Duty Demands

by Elaine Owen

  “No.” They had come to the most difficult part. “When I accepted your offer I had a completely different idea of what our marriage would be like. My uncle said that you wanted to marry me not despite the differences in our station, but because of them. He said that you had chosen me to marry so that I, out of awareness of my inferior status, would make no demands on you: that I would be content with whatever small luxuries came my way. He said that I would be required to produce an heir and very little more.”

  She gulped, trying to take in fresh air to choke out the next words. “And he said that I should not be surprised when you decided to take your mistress to your bed instead of me.”

  Another painful pause ensued.

  “I did not want to believe him at first, but he seemed so certain, and his words had certain logic to them. I had heard of such marriages before in the Ton, and I assumed that he spoke the truth. He also said that, if you followed the pattern he expected, my life would be my own to live after giving you an heir, and I would be permitted to—pursue other relationships.”

  There was absolutely no reaction from Darcy. The silence was more dreadful to her ears than any outburst would have been.

  “Please understand that I realized very quickly that you are not that sort of man. Your conduct at Pemberley was so far above reproach, and your concern for your sister was so exemplary, that I soon began to discredit much of what my uncle had said. It did not seem possible that one who took such care for those around him, even his tenants, would ever treat his wife in such a dishonorable way. And I never wanted to live in such a disreputable manner myself.”

  Still there was no response from her husband. Was he determined to say nothing at all? Was it possible that his rage was building, that he would pull away from her at any moment?

  “That night on the balcony, when we looked at the stars together, you asked me what wish I would make if I could. I told you that I wished to see a falling star for myself, but that was not true.”

  Darcy still did not speak, and Elizabeth suddenly realized that he had not moved for several minutes. The only motion anywhere around her came from the movement of the carriage on the road, and the only sound besides the sounds of travel was the beating of his heart. “William—are you awake?”

  She pushed herself a little away from him in order to look at his face and was relieved to see his eyes focused on her, relaxed but open. “Is there anything else?” he asked.

  “You already know the rest. I resolved to marry you in order to protect my family and to make the best of the circumstances in which I found myself. Can you forgive me for marrying you under false pretenses, for being so willing to think badly of you when I hardly knew you?”

  “Can you forgive me for behaving in a way that seemed to justify what your uncle said?”

  Just like that, he was willing to forgive her. “I have already forgiven and forgotten. In a case such as this, a good memory would be unpardonable.”

  “Then we will put this behind us forever. The only thing I want you to remember now, Elizabeth, is what I told you when we married.”

  In the half light coming in through the window, Darcy took both her hands in his as he had during their wedding. He looked at her solemnly, his eyes gazing into hers. “I, Fitzwilliam Darcy, will love you, comfort you, honor and keep you,”—he paused—“and, forsaking all others, will keep only to you, for as long as I shall live.”

  Deeply moved, she responded, “And I, Elizabeth, will love, honor, and cherish you, forsaking all others, for as long as we both shall live.” She wanted to say more but could not speak over the lump in her throat. Instead she looked at him, willing him to see in her eyes all the tenderness that was in her heart.

  Darcy must have seen understood some of her unspoken message, for after a moment he brought his hands to her face, framing it gently with his fingers, still looking at her with his intent, loving gaze. “What God hath joined together,” he said softly, “let no man put asunder.”

  CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

  Afterward Elizabeth would never remember how long she and Darcy had remained in a passionate embrace, her husband kissing and holding her as their desire for each other mounted. She only knew that she wanted to be with her husband with a fervency she had never felt before, and from the way Darcy murmured her name while he pressed kisses to her lips and neck, she knew he felt the same. Eventually he pulled away, releasing her reluctantly.

  “It would not be appropriate to continue this here,” he said, his voice shaky, and Elizabeth was forced to agree with him.

  “But, Elizabeth”—he paused for a moment—“tonight, when we are at Pemberley, will you come to my bed?”

  “Of course, if that is your wish.”

  “No.” He shook his head in frustration. “I mean, yes, of course it is my wish, but I want it to be your desire as well. I want you to want to be with me, not merely to tolerate my advances.”

  Elizabeth felt her cheeks flame, but she answered with the impudence he seemed to enjoy. “I will do my best to come to your bed only thinking of my own desire. I will take no notice of yours at all.”

  Darcy’s lips curved into a smile, and he let his forehead rest against hers for a moment. Then he exhaled deeply. “May I sleep with you?”

  “I believe we just resolved that issue, William,” Elizabeth could not help teasing once again.

  “I mean, may I go to sleep with you now? I was not jesting when I told you that I had little rest in the commons last night. I have no pillow here, but I might do well if you will allow me to rest on your shoulder.”

  Elizabeth’s heart swelled. “Perhaps you would prefer to lie down instead, and place your head in my lap,” she suggested. “It might be more comfortable.”

  Darcy wasted no time in taking her up on her offer, stretching out on the bench as much as possible. Elizabeth moved over to one side as far as she could and sighed as Darcy laid his head down.

  “You are a very handsome man,” she added, removing a glove to stroke her fingers through his thick hair. She had often wondered what his hair would feel like under her fingertips but had never allowed herself to make free with it before. Now she relished the fine, smooth texture against her palm.

  Darcy grasped her hand in his to give it a quick kiss. “I love you Elizabeth,” he said just before closing his eyes and relaxing deeply.

  “Sweet dreams, William,” Elizabeth answered, and felt herself relax as well.

  It was hours later when Elizabeth woke once again, feeling the change in the carriage’s motion as it made a sharp turn to the left and began moving over a smoother surface. The passing foliage outside the window looked familiar somehow, and as she saw the great wrought iron gates of Pemberley go by, she realized—they were home.

  “William,” she said gently, hating to disturb his rest. For a few moments she simply enjoyed the sensation of watching him in his sleep, her hands lightly caressing his face. “William, wake up. We are at Pemberley.”

  Darcy opened his eyes, but he seemed in no hurry to sit up. He reached to her instead, pulling her head down to his, somewhat awkwardly, for a kiss. “How very beautiful you are, my dearest.”

  Elizabeth could not resist teasing. “Am I correct in thinking that you now find me handsome enough to tempt you?”

  “It has been many months since I first thought of you as the most handsome woman of my acquaintance.” He kissed her again, just to make his point, and then sat up, still looking somewhat the worse for wear. He and Elizabeth managed to restore their appearances to normal as much as possible before the carriage stopped in front of Pemberley.

  Georgiana and Colonel Fitzwilliam came out of the house together as the carriage came to a stop, and as the steps were placed and the door opened, Elizabeth could see them anxiously trying to peer inside the vehicle. They both smiled in relief when Elizabeth appeared in the carriage’s doorway, but they smiled even more when Darcy followed closely behind her. The colonel gave them both a knowing look
.

  “Mrs. Darcy, it is good to see you again—so soon,” he said pointedly, and Elizabeth laughed in response.

  “Colonel! As if I did not know that you spoke to the driver behind my back! Surely you knew I would uncover your clever misdirection sooner or later.”

  “But not until it was too late to avoid Darcy, which was precisely my goal.”

  “Your assistance has been invaluable, cousin,” Darcy told him, shaking his hand heartily, “and I am grateful. Without your help I might have had to travel all the way to Meryton.”

  “Your happiness is my best reward,” the colonel answered with a gallant little bow, and Elizabeth felt, from his pleased expression, that his pleasure at their reunion was sincere.

  Georgiana had already embraced Elizabeth and then moved to do the same with her brother while this conversation went on. “But I do not understand,” she said, stepping back and looking between the two in confusion. “I thought Elizabeth was needed at home, to comfort her family.”

  “Other issues took priority, and our plans have changed,” Darcy answered, volunteering no details.

  “Yes,” said Elizabeth. “I realized it would be better if I stayed at my husband’s side so that we can work through this crisis together. Besides, I am assured that Jane, at least, probably has no need of my poor support at the moment.”

  “Your timing is fortuitous,” the colonel said, still beaming his pleasure at their presence. “The afternoon post came but two hours ago, and there was a letter in it for Mrs. Darcy. We were just debating whether to send it on to Longbourn for you or not, but it would seem odd to return it so quickly to the place where it originated.”

  “It is from Longbourn?” Elizabeth asked. “Then perhaps Lydia has been discovered. I hope Jane wrote to tell us that Lydia and Wickham are now married.”

  It was news of a very different wedding which surprised her when she entered the house, briefly refreshed herself, and then joined the rest of the family in the parlor. She took her letter from Georgiana and read eagerly, turning each page rapidly and with a growing smile, and then looked at her husband with shining eyes.

  “You were right,” she told him. “Jane and Mr. Bingley did not break their engagement. In fact, they are probably already married!” Exclamations of surprise and pleasure rose all around, and Elizabeth was happy to note that of them all, Georgiana was the loudest in her approval, though her eyes were wide with amazement.

  “Was Mr. Bingley already attached to your sister?” she asked. “How did this come about so quickly?”

  Elizabeth reminded herself that Georgiana knew nothing of the aborted courtship between Bingley and Jane. “They met last autumn in Hertfordshire,” she told her now, “and they were on the point of announcing their engagement when Lydia disappeared.” Georgiana appeared satisfied by this brief explanation, and Elizabeth turned her attention back to the pages in her hand.

  “The letter is from my sister Mary,” she said. “I suppose Jane was too busy to write herself.”

  My dear sister, Elizabeth began.

  I have been commissioned by our eldest sister Jane, and compelled by the bonds of sisterly love, to inform you of what has happened in this household since she last wrote and told you of Lydia’s elopement. It would appear that when you write back, you will have to address me, your younger sister, as Miss Bennet, since Jane will have resigned the title by that time.

  The precipitous event came about in this manner: but three days ago, the day following Jane’s last letter to you (so she tells me), Mr. Bingley arrived to call before ten in the morning. The hour being unconscionably early, Hill absolutely refused to admit him, but he would not listen to her. He claimed the rights of an engaged man and positively pushed his way past her, then seated himself in the parlor and refused to leave until he had spoken with Jane himself!

  With no plan to deal with a guest who refused to leave where he was not even invited, the house was thrown into confusion. Our mother, who had been sick in her bed until then, suddenly found new life and rose long enough to insist that Jane meet with her betrothed. Jane tried to tell her that their engagement was now ended because of Lydia, but Mama said that certainly Mr. Bingley would not come all the way from Netherfield in the rain if his intent was to break off the match, and, anyway, that Jane is too beautiful for anyone to think of breaking an engagement. This observation did not strike me as entirely logical, but overwhelming logic has never been our mother’s most distinguishing characteristic. At any rate, it was apparent that Jane felt she had no choice but to obey. She went into the room with Mr. Bingley, quite slowly, and then closed the door behind her.

  Mama then directed me to listen at the keyhole and report every word said to her.

  Bingley, as it turned out, had not come to break off the engagement. On the contrary, he had come to hasten its fulfillment. He told Jane that he thought it imperative that they marry as quickly as possible, because he simply could not stand another day away from her when their separation might be ended so easily, and with so much benefit to all concerned. He presented several arguments in favor of the scheme. He had already procured a special license before he left town and still had it in his possession; if they could marry very quickly, it might divert attention from the neighborhood gossip about Lydia, and in this present trouble he could be of much more use to her and the rest of us as her husband, not merely her betrothed. Whatever Jane’s answer might have been we will never know, for at that point Mama came flying down the stairs in her dressing gown, crying, “You will marry Mr. Bingley! You will marry him at once! I absolutely insist upon it!” Poor Jane had no choice at all after that, but I do not believe she was displeased with the development.

  This all happened three days ago, and we have not had a moment of peace since then. Jane wanted to write and tell you all of this herself, but she is at the dressmaker’s with Mama and Aunt Phillips, so that she can have a gown ready to wear the day after tomorrow.

  I have never had a lover. Until now they seemed like very tiresome things, not worth the trouble and distraction from more worthwhile pursuits, such as books and music. But I begin to believe that if I can find a lover like Mr. Bingley, it might be a very pleasant thing indeed—especially this Mr. Bingley, who seems a highly improved version of the gentleman we first met last autumn. I have every reason to think that he and our sister will get on as well as most couples generally do. Even if they do not, I hope to make excellent use of the library and music room at Netherfield after Jane goes to live there.

  Jane, I am sure, will write to you as soon as she can after the ceremony is held, to let you know that you may start addressing her as Mrs. Bingley. Until then I am your own dutiful sister

  Miss Mary Bennet

  N.B. Jane said to convey her appreciation for the beautiful planting sent to her by you and Mr. Darcy.

  Mary’s letter was such a mix of pretension, absurdity, and genuine good will that Elizabeth could not help laughing as she read it aloud. The others laughed with her, and then she looked thoughtfully at her husband once again.

  “You are responsible for this change in Mr. Bingley.” It was a statement, not a question, but Darcy shook his head.

  “I had nothing to do with it. I merely confessed to him my fault of interference with his life and told him that I had reason to believe that your sister still held affection for him.”

  “But then you told him he should go back to Netherfield.”

  “I did not. I told him that if he truly loved your sister, he would not allow any barrier to come between them ever again—not my opinion nor anyone else’s—and that he should not rest until he had made her his own. He decided for himself that he should return to court Miss Bennet.”

  “How can I ever thank you enough?”

  At this point the colonel gave a self-conscious cough and extended his arm to Georgiana. She looked at him in confusion for a moment, but then her face cleared, and she allowed him to escort her from the room. Elizabeth looked at he
r husband once again.

  “Mr. Bingley has been a good friend to you, and he is so easily guided that his value is inestimable. I thank you for giving him such sound advice. My sister will be very happy.”

  “Truthfully, I was speaking more to myself than to him. I had already decided that I should return to Pemberley to try to patch up our marriage and begin our relationship again. I wanted only courage, and saying the words I did to Bingley gave me the portion I needed.”

  Elizabeth felt her face soften as she looked at him. “Then I thank you for giving yourself the advice and for following it so quickly. You have made me very happy.”

  Darcy fairly glowed as he looked back at her. “Your happiness is all I have ever wanted, Elizabeth.”

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

  Elizabeth Darcy took a deep breath that evening as she stood before the communicating door between her room and that of her husband. Darcy had asked her to come to his bed, and she knew that she would be more than welcome, but it was still the first time that they would truly be together as husband and wife since being reunited. Besides this, it was the first time that she was going to him out of desire, not just a sense of duty. Nothing could possibly feel more right. She raised her hand and knocked firmly on the door. Darcy answered immediately.

  He stood for a moment in the open doorway, his hand still on the doorknob, to gaze at her from head to foot. She was wearing the same white nightgown she had worn on their wedding night, a lifetime ago. “You are beautiful, Elizabeth.”

  She licked her lips nervously. “Thank you, William.”

  “No matter how lovely you were on the day we married, or on all the multiple days between that day and this, you are even lovelier to me now.” They were almost the same words he had spoken to her on their wedding night. How had she missed their significance the first time?

  She surveyed her husband up and down as well, noting that he, too, was wearing the garments he had worn the night of their wedding. “I find you quite attractive as well.”