The end, as she understood it, was:
“Her friendship with Georgiana is something I value as well, and I think you make too much of this. It is a childish infatuation which is barely perceptible the majority of the time. It is, for the most part, confined to long looks and blushing.”—Fitzwilliam.
“And the occasional head on your shoulder?”—Mr. Darcy.
“She really did simply fall asleep.”—Fitzwilliam’s sweet defence of her.
“Of course. Shall we review Stearns’ letter, or should we wait until the morning?”—Mr. Darcy.
This was when young Elizabeth stopped listening—she had been so thoroughly mortified. Had this feeling not overwhelmed her, she would have, according to Fitzwilliam, heard the following additional exchange:
“Yes, of course,” Fitzwilliam answered, his mind already moving on to the letter in question.
“I would add one thing before we take up other matters—Elizabeth Bennet is a treasure, and though just a girl presently, this will not always be the case.”
Elizabeth was moved to hear Mr. Darcy’s sentiments now that he was gone, even though he had never been shy aboutpraising her. This previously unknown compliment was a gift. The next conversation Fitzwilliam relayed had taken place at the Twelfth Night celebration after she and Georgiana had retired. Fitzwilliam indicated he had thought it simply a jest at the time, but came to think differently after he found his father’s birthday note to Elizabeth and especially after he encountered her again last summer.
“It was just after you and Georgiana left, and your newly minted admirer was asking all manner of questions about you after he had kissed your hand! I was irritated and did not understand why,” he told her. “I assumed it was because a friend was being too familiar with someone I considered under my protection.”
“Your father had other ideas?”
“Yes, when the others had drifted away, I told him I thought John had been inappropriate and I meant to speak to him,” Fitzwilliam told her, his eyes shining with amusement at the memory. “He did not object but urged me to understand why I wanted to reprimand John as he had, in reality, done nothing wrong. He was expressing admiration for a beautiful woman and making sure she and others saw it. When I failed to take his meaning, he simply shook his head in that way of his when he has been trying to get you to see things as he knows them to be. He asked that I consider that you were nearly a woman, and John was likely not the first and would not be the last man to seek to pay you attention and that I could play the role of brother if I wanted, and here, he looked at me for a long moment before insisting I should be sure this was in fact the role I wanted.”
“Oh, Fitzwilliam,” Elizabeth sighed as she pictured father and son that night. “Thank you for sharing that with me. Toknow he might have considered this, might have approved of us. Though I love the jewellery and will wear it with pride, that is the greater gift.” She felt the sting of tears just before her beloved drew her into his arms and, like many times before and countless times after, she was anchored by both the chaos and calm of him, of them.
One month later, when Elizabeth Bennet strode down the aisle on her father’s arm, eyes shining with joy gazing lovingly at her groom, who awaited her with equally unconcealed affection, she wore on her neck, finger and ears the tokens of love passed down for generations in her new family and which carried for her the perhaps more valuable distinction of being reminders of the wisdom and love of her dear friend and of the legacy of which she was now a part. When she next walked down that aisle, as Mrs. Darcy, Elizabeth knew a joy greater than anything she had felt before. In each of her friends and family that they passed, she saw a love and happiness for her and Darcy that added again and again to this already overwhelming sense of uncontainable exhilaration. It is unsurprising that it overflowed from her in a burst of laughter as they erupted from the church.
“Is there any sound more beautiful than the laughter of Miss Elizabeth Bennet?” Darcy asked, taking the hand not resting on his arm and turning her into him.
“That of Mrs. Elizabeth Darcy, I suppose,” she countered.
This elicited a burst of laughter from her husband that she would argue was, in fact, the most beautiful sound, but rather than argue, she went up on her tiptoes and leanedinto him. He had learned over the past two months what this portended and eagerly complied, leaning down and into her kiss.
Their guests, who now emerged from the church, surrounded them and offered congratulations and well-wishes. The whole assembly made their way back to Longbourn, where a sumptuous feast awaited them.
The newlyweds circulated among the guests side by side, seemingly unwilling to be parted for even a moment. One parting Elizabeth allowed, with only a small protest from her husband, was with Jane. They snuck off to the room they had shared all their lives to say their private goodbyes.
“Lizzy, I am so happy for you. Have there ever been a couple so perfectly formed for one another as you two?”
“Well, I think not, but perhaps you should reserve some hyperbole for your own beloved,” she teased.
“No, you may have that. If I were to reserve something for Stephen and myself, it will be some other perfection which I hope we will discover together,” Jane answered.
“You need not fear, Jane, Stephen will return to you. I am certain. You are meant to be,” Elizabeth assured her sister with a hug.
“Thank you, Lizzy, though I do worry, I remain sanguine. I believe he will be well.”
“You are too good, my dear sister. I cannot wait for you to join us at Pemberley for Christmas. What a merry party we shall be.”
The sisters talked for a few minutes of travel plans and Christmas plans and even their heretofore unknown cousin, who would be visiting Longbourn later that very week. Jane promised to tell Elizabeth all about the man, who sounded nothing but ridiculous in his letters to their father. They returned to the main drawing room, where wedding guests continued to mill about and partake of the varied and delicious fare provided by Mrs. Bennet, who presided over it all with predictable joy and perhaps a little unpredictable modesty.
An hour after Jane and Elizabeth returned, Darcy whispered to Elizabeth, “Might we say our farewells now, my love?”
“Yes,” Elizabeth said with pronounced eagerness. She would be embarrassed at her unconcealed enthusiasm if she did not know her husband was of like mind.
It took a full hour to traverse the room, once again offering farewells, accepting more congratulations and sharing their plans for the coming months. But finally, finally they were off. Once ensconced in their carriage, Darcy wasted no time in pulling his wife into his arms.
“So it begins, Mrs. Darcy. Our life together,” he whispered between kisses.
