by P. O. Dixon
As he was holding her hand, Elizabeth felt compelled to brush a kiss across his knuckles. “Sir, nothing would give me more pleasure.”
“Truly—you mean to say this is finally happening? No more waiting?”
“I would say that you and I have waited long enough.”
Moistening his lips, Darcy leaned forward. As they closed their eyes, their lips met. How she had missed the soft feel of his lips on hers. She missed the sweet taste and his gentle coaxing, urging her to surrender her inhibitions and enjoy all that a kiss from the man whom she loved occasioned.
At length, the sound of someone clearing his throat commanded their attention and thus drew them apart. “This had better mean what I hope it means.”
Biting her lower lip and hence relishing the lingering taste of her lover’s, she looked at the unexpected third party rather sheepishly. The three of them could not help but smile. In such a case as this, what better words of approbation from an older brother might Elizabeth hope for?
Chapter 29 ~ A Tender Moment
Avery’s insistence that Elizabeth’s companion, Miss Greene, accompany her in Mr. Darcy’s carriage on her return trip to Hertfordshire vexed Elizabeth exceedingly. True, decorum dictated that a single woman not travel alone with a single gentleman. However, it was not as though she and Darcy had not bent their fair share of rules over the past several days since their betrothal. With both of them vowing that they never wished to be parted again, it was all they could do to stay away from each other. Be it early morning strolls in the park, middays spent reading in the library, or dinner parties at either Dunsmore House or Darcy’s townhouse, Elizabeth and Darcy were nearly inseparable.
Thus, when Mr. Darcy asked Elizabeth to contrive to sit opposite her faithful companion in order that he might sit next to her, she willingly obliged.
Elizabeth supposed she had the steady lull of the carriage combined with the bright sun peeping through the windows to thank for Miss Greene’s persistent yawns and occasional nods. Oh, how she wished the other woman would simply succumb to slumber’s beckoning call rather than continue fighting it.
Elizabeth was gazing out the window thinking of the promising prospects that awaited her once she and Mr. Darcy were married when she felt a light brush against her hand. Moments later, she felt a gentle squeeze. She closed her eyes and relished the frissons of pleasure coaxing all over her body. In a flash, she opened them and threw a furtive glance in Miss Greene’s direction only to find that her wish had come true. Next, she glimpsed her betrothed. The smoldering look in his eyes told her that he likely had been wishing the same thing.
He raised her hand to his lips and brushed a kiss across her knuckles. As much as Darcy did not like the added scrutiny that his friend had subjected him to of late as it regarded Elizabeth, he could not fault Avery, especially given his body’s reaction to her whenever they were this close. No doubt, were his own sister, Georgiana, engaged to a man so evidently and so violently in love with her, Darcy would exercise the same guarded measures as His Grace.
All he could think about from the moment Elizabeth had agreed to be his wife was how long it would be before the blessed event took place. Fortunately, it would not be very long at all. As much as Elizabeth may have wished for a lengthy stay in Hertfordshire, she dearly wanted Avery to be there on her special day, which dictated he delay his extended wedding journey. Assured his petition for Elizabeth’s hand would be met with Mr. Bennet’s approval, Darcy had even procured a special license. Soon Elizabeth will be all mine.
Releasing her hand, Darcy casually outstretched his arm and then rested it along the back of the seat. He claimed her hand once more with his free hand, allowing his fingers to brush over her skin. Slowly, he leaned in until his lips were within inches of hers.
“Sir,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper, her breath warm, her amazing dark eyes questioning.
Her lips were moist, slightly parted and inviting and he wanted nothing more than to kiss her. He leaned even closer and then whispered in her ear. “I was beginning to think she would never fall asleep.”
The steady rise and fall of her chest surely evidenced the arousing effect this man had on all her sensibilities. She swallowed. “You, sir, are incorrigible.”
At length, Darcy’s arm fell from the back of the seat and rested behind Elizabeth’s body, his fingers about her waist. His lingering touch set every inch of her being tingling inside.
She settled herself a little closer, laid her head on his chest, and the two clasped opposite hands—their fingers intertwined. Closing her eyes, Elizabeth reminded herself to breathe. She had not a single care that Miss Greene might awaken. Enjoying a tender moment like this with the man who had long ago captured her heart was something she would not have traded for anything in the world.
~*~
Soon after Darcy and Elizabeth arrived at Longbourn, he requested a private audience with Mr. Bennet, and the two of them withdrew to the library. This gave rise to a modicum of agitation on Elizabeth’s part. Not that she feared her father’s opposition, but she did not like the idea of his being made unhappy over her approaching removal to Derbyshire.
Mr. Darcy’s absence did not immediately concern Mrs. Bennet, and, for that, Elizabeth was grateful for it allowed her time to converse intimately with her dearest Jane.
Speaking softly, Jane said, “First, Mr. Darcy escorted you to Longbourn from London, and then he immediately sought a private audience with Papa. Pray tell me this means exactly what I think it means, dearest Lizzy.”
Elizabeth could not hide her joy. “Indeed, Jane, I am the happiest creature in the world. Perhaps other people have said so before, but not one with such justification, I am sure.”
“It is just as I always knew it would be. I contend that you and Mr. Darcy were fashioned for each other. I do not know that I have ever seen you as happy as you are when he and you are in mutual accord.”
“Indeed. There was a time when we were all together in London when I was given to believe that this moment would never come.”
“Oh, Lizzy, let us not dwell on misery when we had much better embrace your philosophy to think only of the past as its remembrance gives you pleasure.”
Jane would receive no argument from Elizabeth on that score and soon they began to talk about the events of the past few days leading to that particular moment. When Mr. Darcy appeared again, Elizabeth, a little relieved by his smile, took Jane’s hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. In a few minutes, he approached the table where she and Jane sat. “Go to your father,” he said in a voice barely above a whisper. “He waits for you in the library.” She was gone directly.
Mr. Bennet was standing at the window, looking out at the garden when Elizabeth entered the room.
“Mr. Darcy said you wished to speak with me, Papa.”
“Yes, come closer, my dear Lizzy,” said her father, turning to greet her. “I have given him my consent. He is the kind of man, indeed, to whom I should never dare refuse anything for which he condescended to ask. I now give it to you, although I contend that no one can be truly worthy of you. Nevertheless, if I have to part with you, it ought to be with him. You will pardon my saying this, but I had hoped this day would have come much later. To own the truth, the instant I watched you step down from the carriage the past autumn, I knew our time with you was not meant to last.”
“Papa, you speak as though you’re losing me, when nothing could be further from the truth.”
“In all the ways that matter, I am losing you. Say what you will, but you are a young bride. I imagine your entire focus will be on building a life with your husband, as it ought to be.”
“Perhaps you should not think of this as losing a daughter, but rather as gaining a son.”
Mr. Bennet spoke of what a fine son-in-law Mr. Darcy would be. To complete her papa’s favorable impression, Elizabeth then told him what Mr. Darcy had voluntarily done for Lydia.
Having listened to his daughter wi
th astonishment, Mr. Bennet said, “This is a day of wonders, indeed! And so Darcy did everything: made up the match, gave the money, paid the fellow’s debts, and got him his commission in the north of England! I had supposed it had been your uncle’s doing, in which case I would have insisted on paying him. I suppose I ought to extend the same consideration to your Mr. Darcy.”
She held up her hand. “No, Papa. He would not want you to.”
“The truth is that, even if I lived on for another two hundred years, I scarcely doubt I would ever be able to truly repay him for all he has done on behalf of our family, but in this case I think I shall offer to pay him all the same. No doubt he will rant and storm about his love for you, and that will be an end of the matter.”
“Oh, Papa,” cried Elizabeth lovingly. She threw her arms around him. “I shall miss you exceedingly. Promise me you will come to Pemberley.”
“I shall ponder the matter, my Lizzy.”
“Indeed you must and should you need any greater inducement than your affection for me, I beg you to take into account that the library at Pemberley, being the work of many generations, is splendid.”
Chapter 30 ~ Incandescently Happy
Happy for all their maternal feelings was the day on which both Mrs. Bennet and Lady Sophia Montlake watched Elizabeth and Mr. Darcy exchange wedding vows.
Her ladyship could rightfully say that she always knew it would be this way. She had known even before Elizabeth did that the latter was destined to marry the handsome Mr. Darcy. But, then again, she supposed, a mother always has a way of knowing such things.
Avery had been overjoyed to delay his honeymoon journey for the sake of seeing his sister and one of his closest friends united in matrimony. To Elizabeth’s surprise, Avery was quite happy to play the role of the dutiful, protective older brother, and he insisted that Mr. Bennet do the honors of negotiating Elizabeth’s marriage settlement. Her fifty thousand pound dowry aside, Avery contended that the older gentleman was her father after all, a status that trumped everything, even the prerogative of a duke.
Although Elizabeth and Miss Darcy had spent little time together during the past, they would soon make up for it. Indeed, Darcy and Elizabeth decided that Georgiana would be removed from her London establishment to reside with them at Pemberley. Having grown accustomed to the idea of having sisters, Elizabeth liked this scheme very much.
As for Darcy’s other relatives, Lord Matlock did indeed send his daughter away, but not to Bedlam as he had suggested. He surmised she was cunning and clever, not stark raving mad. A year in Scotland with her mother’s distant relations was to be her penance.
Lady Catherine was extremely indignant over the marriage of her nephew. Giving way to all the genuine frankness of her character, of which she so often boasted, she replied as one might have expected to the letter Darcy sent announcing his engagement. Her language was so very abusive, especially of Elizabeth and her relatives, and she decried with equal venom the degradation of the shades of Pemberley being thus polluted, that he pronounced her ladyship would be considered a stranger to him.
Being ever the loyal friend, Bingley returned to Netherfield for the wedding, which was indeed a very good thing. His declaration that he planned to stay for the remainder of the year was truly a cause for joy. Moreover, in spite of Jane’s insistence that she and the gentleman were no more than indifferent acquaintances, her mother’s renewed hopes and effusive affirmations that her eldest daughter was to be the next mistress of Netherfield did not meet with Jane’s displeasure.
Later that day, when all the wedding breakfast guests were gone, Mrs. Bennet said to her husband, “Two daughters married and with hardly any trouble to myself. I do not need to tell you how much easier this makes the rest of my job. Soon I shall have nothing left to wish for.”
“How do you suppose that, my dear?”
“Why, surely you know that Lizzy’s marriage alone shall put the other girls in the path of many rich gentlemen. It is already happening to our Jane as it has been the means of Mr. Bingley’s return. I have it on good authority that he means to do right by her this time. Oh, what a happy day this is!”
~*~
Dunsmore Estate, some weeks later
How different it was walking along the pristine lane leading to the Dunsmore burial place now than when she first went that way during that mournful day when the former Duke of Dunsmore was laid to rest. The feelings she now suffered were in no way akin to those she had felt then. The last time she had traveled that path, she felt sorrow, pain, and loss. Now she did not know exactly how she felt. All Elizabeth knew was that she needed to be there.
When she arrived at His Grace’s tomb, she was silent and reverent. At length she spoke. “I came here to tell you that I do not hate you, Your Grace. Nor do I forgive you.” Elizabeth swallowed back her tears. “From the moment you abducted me from the streets of Lambton and in so doing forever altered the course of my life until the day I sat by your bedside and watched you take your final breath, I never knew you at all. You were a stranger to me.” Here, she paused again for a bit of quiet reflection.
“More than once, of late, I have been reminded of my own philosophy to think only of the past as its remembrance brings me pleasure. As I can think of no more fitting occasion to embrace that sentiment, I must hereby vow to think of you no more.”
Elizabeth exhaled deeply when she came from the cemetery and saw Darcy standing there by the gate waiting for her. Each closing the distance between them, they soon stood face-to-face.
Darcy rested his forehead against hers. “Are you ready to leave, my love?”
“I am indeed. Please take me home … to Pemberley.”
He kissed her and then they joined hands. Walking hand in hand with her husband, Elizabeth was overcome with a sense of knowing. With him was where she belonged. Forever more there would be no doubt as to who she was. Not Lady Elizabeth Montlake. Not Miss Elizabeth Bennet.
I am Mrs. Elizabeth Darcy, the mistress of Pemberley and the incandescently happy wife of Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy, whom I shall forever regard as the best man in the world.
Acknowledgments
I offer heartfelt thanks to Betty, Regina, and Ken: the former two for being such wonderful first readers and the latter for such helpful editorial support.
My deepest gratitude to Miss Jane Austen for her timeless classic, Pride and Prejudice. Weaving Miss Austen’s words throughout my what-if stories is always fun. I hope readers, when coming across them, will smile fondly.
The Author
P. O. Dixon is a writer as well as an entertainer. Historical England and its days of yore fascinate her. She, in particular, loves the Regency period with its strict mores and oh so proper decorum. Her ardent appreciation of Jane Austen’s timeless works set her on the writer’s journey. Dixon delights in weaving diverting tales of gallant gentlemen on horseback and the women they love. Visit podixon.com and find out more about Dixon’s writing endeavors.
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Copyright © 2015 P. O. Dixon
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This book is a work of fiction. The characters depicted in this book are fictitious or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
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