CHAPTERTHIRTY-THREE
Ardency and joymarked the day on which Mr Bennet relinquished his two eldest daughters. The sun shone brightly upon the Bennet brides with their bouquets of roses from their mother’s garden as they made their way into the church upon their father’s arms, and light streamed through the windows to rest upon the couples as they pronounced their vows with certainty and delight.
Elizabeth Darcy smiled happily as congratulations and toasts rang through the public rooms of Longbourn, driving out many a shadow of the past year, and held tightly to her new husband’s arm as a great crowd of friends and relations saw the newly married couples off to London at the close of the festivities.
“At last,” Darcy sighed a few hours later as he loosened his cravat and relaxed into an overstuffed settee in their private sitting room at Darcy House. Elizabeth smiled indulgently at her husband of half a day; the wedding, the boisterous breakfast, her own spate of tears upon leaving Longbourn, and the formal presentation of his new wife to his London servants—it had all been a great deal of activity for an unsociable man. They had been able to relax to a certain extent in the carriage, of course, but had been mindful that the instant they stepped from it they would be very much on display, so there could be no loosed cravats or removed hairpins. She set to work on those hairpins as she took her rightful place next to him, closing her eyes in relief as the heavy weight of her hair tumbled down. She tucked her newly unburdened head onto his shoulder and revelled in the freedom to touch him as she liked.
“It is longer than I imagined,” he said softly, twining a thick curl around one finger.
“Do you like it, or shall I have it cut?” she asked with a smile.
“I like it very well indeed.” He drew her close and she felt his lips brush the top of her head. “How do you fancy your new home, Mrs Darcy?”
“Oh, a great deal, and yet not nearly so much as I fancy my new husband,” Elizabeth murmured. She felt his silent laugh beneath her cheek. “Mrs Darcy…how well that sounds.”
“I am glad you think so,” he said, “for I shall take great pleasure in saying it often. After all the effort required to convince you to take the name, I cannot soon grow weary of repeating it.”
She raised her head and leant away a little, that she might see his face. He was smiling lazily, his eyes half closed, his fingers still languidly moving through her hair. Never had she seen him so at his ease, so unburdened and tranquil. She wanted nothing more than to ensure he reached that state often. She gasped as his fingers began gently stroking her neck, and she felt a frisson sweep over her.
“But what shall I call you,” she whispered, “to enjoy the same novelty? For you have always been ‘Mr Darcy’ to me.”
His eyes opened, his soft gaze replaced by smouldering desire. “Address me however it pleases you, and so long as you do not call me ‘that man I wish I had not married’, I dare say I shall like it.”
“Very well…my love,” she said, and set her lips to his.
* * *
“Oh, Jane, I shall miss you so!” cried Elizabeth the following morning after breakfast, as Mr and Mrs Bingley took their leave. “Though the mail is dreadfully slow from so far away, you will write to me nevertheless, will you not?”
“Of course I shall!” replied Jane, returning her sister’s fierce embrace. “And you must write to me, no matter how stale your news will be when it reaches us. And when we meet again, we will have ever so much to tell each other!”
Darcy could see that although Elizabeth smiled, there was worry in her expression; clearly Jane saw it as well. “Do not fear, Lizzy,” she said quietly. “Smallpox could not take me from you, and neither can the sea. I promise you, I shall return.” She smiled, clasped her sister’s hands, and continued, “Now, I know you shall be well-occupied before you depart for Pemberley, but I hope you will call upon Louisa while she is here in London, or have her and Cousin Portia around for tea. Perhaps you might all go to Hatchard’s together—that would no doubt delight all three of you!”
Elizabeth acquiesced easily. “Certainly I shall, dearest.ThatMiss Bingley has struck me as someone I should like to know better,” she added pertly. “And when they return to Netherfield, our sisters will hardly allow Louisa to be forgotten. When you return, you will no doubt find the house and estate in perfect order, and your new sister as much a part of the community as Lady Lucas.”
With such assurances, Jane appeared content. As the Bingleys’ carriage pulled away, Darcy stood behind Elizabeth, holding her without care for the gaze of the servants, and spoke tenderly to her of all the adventures their own married life promised. His soft whispers led to kisses, and a somewhat hurried trip back to their chamber. Once there, it took all the persuasive power of a new husband to restore her good humour.
That evening the Darcys were roused from their rooms to go to Fitzwilliam House for a family dinner. Though the couple would both have preferred to wait a little longer before going out in company, Lady Matlock insisted that the family must signal its continued approval soon after the wedding. They would attend the theatre with the earl and countess the following week, and then retire to Pemberley until spring. Darcy was very much looking forward to a winter secluded at his home with the two ladies he loved best and very little other society.
Upon their arrival, his cousin, Viscount Hammond, had received the new Mrs Darcy with cool courtesy; Lady Hammond had been a little warmer. The colonel had greeted them with something of his usual amiability, but there was an undercurrent of reserve which Darcy could not ignore. Now that the deed was done, Lord Matlock had thawed a bit further, going so far as to compliment Mrs Darcy on her appearance. Lady Matlock, of course, had made a point of welcoming Elizabeth with open pleasure and a kiss to the cheek, and Georgiana, who was staying with her aunt and uncle for the nonce, was unabashedly delighted to greet Elizabeth as a sister.
Darcy smiled as he watched his wife speaking with the other ladies; his smile widened as the viscountess laughed delightedly at something Elizabeth had said while his aunt and sister looked on in approval. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw his cousin step up beside him, but made no move to acknowledge him.
“I want you to know that I never fed or even repeated the rumours about your lady,” the colonel said quietly after a time.
Darcy nodded once. “Thank you for that.”
“Are you happy with the bargain you have made? You shall need to work hard to dower your own daughters, since she brought you nothing.”
“Shebrought me everything I wanted,” Darcy replied quietly. “To save for my daughters will be a pleasure, not a burden. That is what you have not understood, I think—whatever is done in service of our life together cannot be a hardship. I have no cause to repine.”
It was clear from his expression that the colonel did not understand, but he nodded and held out his hand. Darcy shook it, and allowed himself to hope that their close relationship would eventually be restored.
* * *
Louisa Hurst rose as the sitting room door opened and one of the hotel’s maids showed her sister in. “Caroline. You look well.”
Caroline Bingley swept into the room and took in its fine appointments with one comprehensive glance. “Louisa. It is good to see you. This suite is very elegant; I had not thought Hurst left you so well-settled.”
