Richard drew a breath. “I wish I could leave tomorrow, but there remain some very angry smugglers at large in our part of the country. I must be certain all is in order before I bring Anne and Lady Catherine back.”
Darcy then turned to the Earl and Countess. “Uncle Henry, Aunt Helen, we are leaving. We stop in London tonight and then travel on to Pemberley. Aunt Helen, I leave Georgiana in your protection until spring. Thank you for keeping her in your care during the first months of my marriage.”
While Fitzwilliam bade farewell to his family, Elizabeth sought her own. She kissed her father and lingered in his embrace. Then she kissed her mother’s cheek and thanked her for all her effortswith the wedding and the breakfast. When she stood before the Gardiners, she kissed them both and, embracing her uncle, she said, “Uncle Edward, but for your invitation to Ramsgate, I might never have come to know Fitzwilliam as well as I do. This marriage may have never come to pass.” She then kissed each of her married sisters and curtsied to their husbands.
As she turned to remove upstairs to change her dress, Alexander stepped forward. “Elizabeth, I wish you well in your future life with Mr. Darcy. I apologize for the disrespect I have shown you over the past several months. You must know that I have always loved you; I have loved you since you were five years old, and I fished you out of the pond. You have the most expressive eyes; even then, I saw that you were a kindred spirit. Now that you are married, the part of my heart that I gave to you when we were children will never again belong to me.” He looked down at the floor, then he looked into her eyes again. “I know that it is all my fault that this wedding was not ours. I threw away our love for money.”
He took her hand and pressed his lips to her gloved knuckles. “I am leaving tomorrow for London, and then I will sail to the West Indies within the next three weeks. I plan to remain abroad for at least two years and perhaps longer. A friend of my father's owns a warehouse there, and I intend to learn how to do for myself without my mother's interference. I intend to learn how to treat a woman of quality as she deserves. Farewell, Elizabeth.”
He turned and walked away before she could reply.
Elizabeth stared after her childhood friend. She realized with some amazement that she did not feel like crying, and she felt no regret. Everything was as it should be. Her heart belonged to Fitzwilliam alone, and she was grateful that she regrettednothing, not even the pain of separation Alexander had put her through.
Glancing up, she saw that Charlotte was watching her. She had seen Alexander’s farewell. Beyond her friend stood Fitzwilliam, and he seemed to be searching her face. She smiled at him and walked to his side, then together they made their way upstairs to change.
Chapter 57: Married
The Darcys' carriage pulled out of the yard at three in the afternoon. The newlyweds would arrive at Darcy House by five.
Darcy sat close beside Elizabeth, leaned back against the cushions, and sighed contentedly. “I wrote to Mrs. Nichols, our housekeeper, and Mr. Higgins, our butler, to be prepared to receive us today around five in the afternoon. Your chambers have been cleaned, but since they were last occupied by my mother sixteen years ago, you will find them sadly out of fashion. I asked Mrs. Nichols to procure samples of wallpaper and rugs. If you place the orders for the refurbishments, all the work will be completed while we are at Pemberley. This way, you will suffer none of the inconvenience or dust that this type of work produces.”
Elizabeth clasped his hand, half to steady herself and half to mask her nervousness. She had been alone with him before, on Oakham Mount, in the grove at Rosings Park, and in the little folly, but never in such close confinement, and never without the restraints imposed by propriety.
He watched her for a moment and, chuckling, asked, “Are you nervous, Mrs. Darcy?” Without waiting for her reply, he bent to kiss her. It was a soft, sweet kiss. Elizabeth returned the embrace, drawing his full lower lip into her mouth, and then he pulled her flush against his body. Her arms went around his neck, and her fingers stroked his thick curls. Within minutes, he pulled her onto his lap. Elizabeth unbuttoned his jacket and waistcoat, then slipped her hands along the thin muslin shirt, feeling his warm, muscular chest and back. She leaned intohim and discovered how exquisite it felt to be gathered into his strong arms and breathing in his masculine scent.
Two hours later, she was straddling his legs, kneeling on the seat, kissing him and being kissed, when the change of sound beneath the carriage wheels startled him. The soft dirt road had given way to the clatter of cobblestones. Darcy broke off his kiss and peered out the window.
“Elizabeth, we are within twenty minutes of Mayfair and must set ourselves to rights before we reach the house. Do you see my cravat?”
Elizabeth pushed back, flushed and breathless, and glanced about. “Your hair is in shocking disarray, Mr. Darcy.”
He grinned. “And I enjoyed every moment your exquisite fingers worked their magic, Mrs. Darcy.”
She searched the carriage. “Your cravat is here, on the floor. It is beyond repair.” She dangled it between her fingers and thumb. Darcy saw it was crushed and streaked with dirt.
He grinned. “My waistcoat, then? And jacket?”
Elizabeth slid from his lap, bent down, and retrieved a crumpled garment. “Here is your jacket. Wrinkled. And your waistcoat is here under my knee. Also wrinkled beyond salvation.”
He buttoned his muslin shirt, then she helped as he shrugged into the waistcoat, and allowed her to tug the jacket into place. She leaned back and studied his appearance with her arms folded across her bosom. “That jacket is cut so perfectly, sir, that your shoulders have leveled away all the wrinkles. You look disarmingly presentable. Save for the absence of your cravat, you are nearly your elegant proper self.”
Darcy caught her by the arms, pulled her to him, and kissed her again. He released her and then murmured, “You were saying, Mrs. Darcy?”
Elizabeth laughed. “Well, you look respectable at any rate. Your behavior is not anything I could have guessed at.” She turned her attention to her gown. He had unbuttoned her bodice, which now hung loose, and far too much of her decolletage was exposed; her skirts were hopelessly creased. She straightened her petticoat and her skirts and then turned her back to him. “Sir, will you button my dress?”
“Only because I must, darling.” She felt his fingers fumbling with the tiny buttons. When he was done, she put on her slippers and tried to tame her disordered hair.
“Your hair,” Darcy said, watching her try to pin it by feel since she had no mirror, “is charming.” He caught a lock between his fingers and rubbed it gently.
Elizabeth gathered what pins she could find from the cushions and the floor, repairing her coiffure as best she might.
When she was finished, he said with approval. “You are as beautiful as ever, my love. Perhaps your hairstyle is less elegant than it was in the church this morning, and your gown somewhat more wrinkled than fashion would approve. Yet I see nothing to repine. Indeed, I can hardly wait to see you in my bed tonight.”
Elizabeth’s face burned, and she turned away. “Fitzwilliam, you are ungentlemanly, sir. How am I to walk into Darcy House with any modicum of propriety when I know you are thinking such thoughts?”
He leaned nearer, unrepentant. “That has been my wish, madam, for many months now.”
She covered her face with her hands. “You are determined to embarrass me.”
