“With all my heart,” she breathed.
“Then — I should very much like to kiss you.”
“Please,” Elizabeth whispered, and in the next moment, his lips met hers, his arms tightening about her body. After a long moment, he pulled away, looking deeply into her eyes. A wave of feelings crested over her, leaving her shaken, feeling at once confused and overcome with delight.
“Elizabeth, my love, you are exquisite,” Mr Darcy whispered. She could not account for what she heard in his tone. There was love there, and she delighted to hear it, but it was coupled to something that sounded very much like awe. “Your glorious eyes — I believe it was these dark, sparkling eyes that first enchanted me.” He trailed light kisses over her jaw, her neck. Elizabeth’s eyes widened. It was the first glimpse of what might be between a man and wife — something rather more than a simple meeting of lips.
With a rather regretful smile, Mr Darcy stepped away. He kept his hand on her shoulder, and for that, Elizabeth was grateful. She rather thought she might have fallen down without that stabilising touch.
“That must be all, until we are wed,” Mr Darcy said. “Though perhaps, given sufficient time and privacy, you might allow me another such kiss.”
Elizabeth’s heart hammered in her chest. “I should like that. Very much,” she said, her voice hardly above a whisper. With an effort, she composed herself. “Shall we announce the good news to my family?” she asked.
“Yes. Well, yes, I suppose there is only one formality left to dispose of. I shall have to ask your father’s permission again.” They shared a laugh, but she saw no reason to stand upon ceremony. She went to the door and called her family back in, asking for someone to go for her father this time. When everyone was assembled, she and Mr Darcy faced them and he told them the news.
“I have asked Miss Elizabeth if she would be my wife, once again, and with your permission, sir, she has accepted.”
The drawing room erupted with congratulations. Elizabeth’s father was the first to join them and extended his hand for Mr Darcy to shake on it. “I heartily give my consent, even more readily than I did before.”
“Oh, I thought it would never happen!” her mother exclaimed. “I thought all was lost after she let you get away the last time.” Elizabeth tried not to roll her eyes at her mother’s antics, but Mr Darcy only smiled patiently. “There is no need to delay, is there? You must marry at once!”
“Do not fret, Mama. I shall never let him go,” Elizabeth said.
He beamed at her, offering her his arm, which she gladly accepted. “Only this time, no one will have to feel that they are forcing the other into an unwanted marriage.”
“No, indeed,” Elizabeth exclaimed. “It is true love that joins us, for all it may have started in a compromise.”
“And what a fortunate compromise it was!” Lydia said with a giggle.
Everyone joined in with her laughter. Elizabeth and Mr Darcy turned to face each other as everyone else began discussing the upcoming weddings. Without bothering to inquire into the opinions of the parties most concerned, Mrs Bennet and Lydia began discussing how lovely it would be for Elizabeth and Jane to be married on the same day, and had rapidly moved on to whether Mr Bingley ought to purchase a special license.
Elizabeth could not bring herself to attend to them. She was simply glad to have her love standing there with her, never to be parted from him again. She smiled up at her betrothed. “Yes, it was a fortunate compromise, indeed.”
With that, Mr Darcy cupped her cheek, and leaned in close. Elizabeth closed her eyes, relishing the feel of his lips against hers.
Epilogue
Twenty Years Later
Elizabeth Darcy sat in the best drawing room of Pemberley, looking out through the broad windows as her children walked in the sunlit garden. A smile crossed her lips. At nineteen years old, her eldest was on the verge of manhood. Henry had grown into a serious man, much like his father in many respects. He would be a good steward of his father’s holdings when the time came—hopefully many years in the future.
Her daughter, now sixteen, was the picture of loveliness. Amelia had inherited Elizabeth’s spirit and was the spitting image of her aunt Georgiana at sixteen, with flowing curls and bright blue eyes.
And then there was James, their youngest. At thirteen, he was so spirited, he sometimes rather reminded Elizabeth of Lydia. Thankfully, high spirits were not nearly so vexatious when a parent was prepared to guide and discipline their child. He would take a commission, perhaps, like his beloved Uncle Fitzwilliam. Even as Elizabeth watched, James shouted and leaped at his brother, playfully knocking him down. She smiled as the boys began tussling in the grass, as they had often done during their boyhood. Henry was sometimes rather solemn, just like his father, but not too solemn to enjoy a bout of wrestling with his younger brother.
Elizabeth sighed contentedly and turned back to her book. The years had been kind to her, indeed. Perhaps even kinder than she deserved, Elizabeth thought, but she intended to take her good fortune and be grateful for it.
Elizabeth had not yet forgotten the events of twenty years before — nor was she likely to. After many a loud debate, Mrs Bennet and Lydia had to brook disappointment on the topic of the double wedding. After all, Mr Darcy had not really procured a special license during his trip to London, and neither he nor she had any objection to waiting for the banns to be read. In the end, they were married just a week after Jane and Mr Bingley.
Then Mr Darcy had brought her home to Pemberley, and Elizabeth had learned that her husband’s estate was no less worthy of her adoration than his character and his person. The wooded grounds took her breath away, no less than the glorious house itself, and best of all was the respect and liking with which Mr Darcy was viewed by all about him. Elizabeth did not think she had ever seen a landholder so esteemed by his tenants, nor a master so praised by his servants. If she had not already learned a better understanding of Mr Darcy’s character, her first meeting with his dear housekeeper, an intelligent and able woman who had known him since boyhood, would have corrected all her old injustices to him.
In her sister-in-law, too, Elizabeth was even better pleased than she had hoped to be. It had seemed not impossible that Georgiana might see her as an intruder, taking over duties as mistress of Pemberley that had formerly belonged to her. In Georgiana, however, Elizabeth found a very shy and unassuming girl, not jealous of her place, and very willing to love and to be loved. Hardly a week had passed after their meeting before they had become fast friends.
The two sisters-in-law were kindred spirits in many ways, and each found inspiration for self-improvement in the friendship, as well as companionship. With delicate, hesitant courtesy, Georgiana pushed Elizabeth to improve her skills as a pianist, and with less diffidence but great good humour, Elizabeth helped her sister-in-law to overcome her lingering tendency to low spirits. Within a few short months, Elizabeth felt Georgiana was well and truly one of her sisters. The time of silent brooding over Mr Wickham slowly ebbed away, and her sister-in-law’s vibrant and cheerful personality returned, much to Mr Darcy’s joy.
Mr Wickham was not mourned — certainly not at Pemberley, and likely not anywhere in England. There had been a letter a few weeks after Elizabeth and Darcy’s wedding, telling them in no uncertain terms that Mr Wickham had received his just desserts. After much deliberation and consulting with Elizabeth, Mr Darcy chose not to inform Georgiana of his fate. Even after all she had suffered at his hands, her tender heart would have grieved for the boy who had grown up at Pemberley, unable to see the traitor and scoundrel he had become. She had suffered enough at Mr Wickham’s hand, and he had feared that bringing it back up would only bring on unnecessary distress.
Thankfully, there was much to distract the little family as Elizabeth and Darcy prepared for their wedding trip. Georgiana would stay with her aunt for a time before travelling on to Longbourn for the rest of the time Elizabeth and Darcy were gone. After the wedding, Georgiana and Mary had become fast friends as well, and would spend their time together playing the pianoforte to their heart’s content.
