“Madam, I am very sorry for my forwardness. Please allow me to explain. I have asked for your daughter’s hand in marriage, and she has accepted me.” Elizabeth smiled, not only at hearing those precious words, but for the joy in Mr Darcy’s voice at claiming her.
Her mother gave a yelp of surprise and pleasure. “Oh, how delightful! Lizzy is most honoured, are you not, Lizzy? Oh, what a happy day!” she exclaimed. Without pausing for so much as a breath, she began talking of wedding plans, what his intentions for a wedding trip might include, and whether he intended to invite his new family to Pemberley for an extended stay. She had heard so much about the beautiful gardens of Pemberley since Lizzy had returned home…
Elizabeth could only laugh. She was too overcome with joy and relief even to mind her mother’s less than genteel manners. After tea, Mr Darcy made his departure and returned to Netherfield to share the joyful news. That night, Elizabeth and Jane sat up talking late into the night.
“Soon, you will know what it means to be this happy, Jane. I am sure of it,” Elizabeth said. They sat atop her little sleeping pad at the foot of their mother’s bed. Mrs Bennet had been snoring softly for quite some time, no doubt content for the first time since Jane had been an infant that one of her daughters was taken care of and would soon be settled.
“I can only hope,” Jane said softly. “To have the love of a man like Mr Darcy,” she said, shaking her head as a smile spread over her face. “It is a blessing indeed.”
Elizabeth leaned against the bed frame. “I never knew I could be so happy,” she sighed. “This morning I awoke nearly in despair. Tonight, I am engaged to a man I love more than life itself.”
Jane flashed a mischievous glance over at their mother’s sleeping form. “I believe there is only one person who might claim to be even more delighted than yourself and Mr Darcy — our mother. I have never seen her so content! Indeed, there was not one mention of her nerves throughout supper.”
Elizabeth rolled her eyes heavenward. “This will only be a brief reprieve. I am willing to bet that she will be telling Lydia she needs to find a husband at the breakfast table tomorrow morning.”
Jane laughed. “Well, you will certainly have the means to place foolish bets such as that, now that you will soon be married to a man who has ten thousand a year.”
Elizabeth swatted playfully at her sister. “You know I did not take him because of his fortune!”
Jane giggled softly. “Of course not. But it has made Mama much more forgiving of that kiss she witnessed. I always knew you were a bit of a rebel, Lizzy.”
Elizabeth’s cheeks grew warm at the memory of Mr Darcy’s arms enfolding her, his lips kissing her. “I suppose I cannot argue against that point. First, I began writing dreadful Gothic novels. Allowing my fiancé to kiss me before my wedding day was just a natural progression, I suppose.”
Jane giggled again. It was good to hear her. There had been little laughter in this cottage since they had fallen on hard times.
Only one thing remained missing from Elizabeth’s happiness — that her father had not lived to see it. Mr Bennet would never meet Mr Darcy, nor give him his blessing. “I wish Papa were here,” Elizabeth admitted.
Jane took her hand, giving her a sad smile. “He is,” she said. “He lives on in your smile.”
Elizabeth smiled. “And in your blue eyes.”
Jane nodded. “And in Mary’s philosophy,” she added.
“And in Lydia and Kitty’s mischievous natures. I will never forget how mercilessly Papa used to tease Mama.”
They were quiet for a moment, both of them remembering their father, so much loved, and so much missed.
At last, Jane suggested it was time for bed. Upon curling up under the blankets on her little sleeping pad, Elizabeth was grateful for the chance to share a room with her sister as she had rarely been before. Soon now, they likely would never share a room again.
“I am happy for you, Lizzy. After everything you have done for us over the last few years, you deserve your happiness.” Jane said, her voice growing soft and sleepy. “And I know one thing more. Our father would have been happy for you, too. Proud of the woman you are, and happy that you have found a man as wonderful as you deserve.”
“Thank you, Jane,” Elizabeth breathed. “That means the world to me.”
As her sister’s breath evened out into sleep, Elizabeth stayed awake a little longer, thinking about what Jane had said.
She could believe it now — that her father would be proud of her if he knew what she had done to save their family. It did not matter that, as Mrs Laurence, she might be considered almost notorious. If Mr Darcy could understand her, could see the value in both her sacrifice and her writing, then so could Papa. At that thought, Elizabeth smiled. She already had a thousand reasons to love Mr Darcy, but he had just given her one more — the gift of truly understanding herself.
“Oh, how I love you,” Elizabeth murmured, picturing his face as she at last gave herself up to sleep, and the certainty of pleasant dreams.
Epilogue
Christmas Day, 1814
Beautiful in every season, Pemberley was very nearly magical at Christmas. The halls had a rich scent of evergreen boughs — hardly surprising, considering how many garlands were hung in them — and the strange white light of snow falling outside only added to the feeling of wonder and good cheer.
Christmas meant very different things to Mrs Darcy than it had to Elizabeth Bennet. Three years ago, she had been alone in her uncle’s house, writing feverishly away to provide for her mother and sisters. Now she was preparing to enjoy a Christmas feast, with all of her family gathered around her in her own home.
“How is that, Mrs Darcy?” her maid asked, placing the last silver comb in her hair.
