She took his hand, her fingers lacing with his, and for a time they simply stood together in the quiet of the study, a sombre recognition of the trial they still faced.
One bright morning, a full two weeks after their return, as Elizabeth sat in the sun-drenched morning room, Darcy entered. He held a letter with an official-looking seal, but his expression was one of amusement rather than dread.
“Good morning, my love,” he said, his voice holding a warmth that still made her heart perform an undignified tumble. “I thought you might wish to see this. It just arrived by express.”
Elizabeth smiled, setting aside her book. “I am not certain what I find more alarming. A letter from the Arcane Office, or the fact that you are smiling while holding it.”
Darcy chuckled, handing her the letter.
It was a formal decree from the full Arcane Court.
In light of the extraordinary service rendered by Mr and Mrs Darcy of Pemberley in the complete and total vanquishing of the Blight, the Arcane Court, with the full approbation of the Crown, has seen fit to rescind the pecuniary penalty of sixty thousand pounds following the unfortunate incident at Buxton. The courage and innovative spirit demonstrated by Mr and Mrs Darcy of Pemberley are to be commended as an example to all mages of the realm.
Elizabeth looked up from the letter, her eyes shining with relief. “They have rescinded the fine.” The immense weight, a burden she had felt on his behalf every single day, was lifted. “It seems even the Arcane Office can, on occasion, be moved to something resembling gratitude.”
“It appears so,” Darcy said warmly. “Though their commendation belongs to you, Elizabeth. It was your vision, your heart, that saved us.”
“It was our vision. Our hearts.”
His gaze searched hers with an intensity that made the sunlit garden outside the window seem to fade into a soft blur. His expression was that of a man seeing his entire future standing before him.
“My heart has been entirely yours for longer than I dared to admit, even to myself. I love you, Elizabeth. Most ardently.”
The words, words she had once so brutally rejected in the confines of a carriage, came to her now in the peaceful light of their home, stripped of all pride and qualification: a simple and absolute truth. Tears of joy welled in her eyes, blurring his handsome face.
“Oh, William, my heart was yours long before I knew it myself,” she whispered, as she raised a hand to rest against his face, “I love you.”
He closed his eyes for a moment. When he opened them again, they brimmed with a light of such tender devotion that it flooded her with warmth.
Then he leaned in and kissed her, not with the desperate passion of their recent past, but with gentleness. It was a kiss and a promise, a promise of all their mornings to come.
The world around her still hummed with its own magic, but beneath it, she could now feel a deeper, truer resonance — the steady, perfect hum of his heart answering hers.
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
The journey to Longbourn, undertaken a month after their return from the north, was completely unlike the one that had first brought Elizabeth to Pemberley. The carriage was now filled with the easy murmur of their conversation. They spoke of everything and nothing — of poetry he thought she might enjoy, of the healing land they passed, of the places they wished to travel to now that the world was their own to explore. Darcy’s hand rested easily in hers, his thumb tracing idle patterns over hers as they talked.
The hedgerows shimmered with a healthy magic, and the great oaks that dotted the landscape seemed to sing a steady song to Elizabeth’s senses. The hum of the world, for the first time in what felt like a lifetime, was right again.
As their carriage finally turned onto the gravel drive of her old home, the sight of Longbourn overwhelmed her, and she felt the hot sting of happy tears behind her eyes.
Their arrival sent Longbourn into its customary state of happy chaos. Mrs Bennet swept out of the house in a flurry of exclamations, her anxieties of old entirely replaced by atriumphant joy.
“Lizzy! My dearest girl! And Mr Darcy! How excellent you look!” she cried, her voice carrying across the drive as she enveloped Elizabeth in a hug, before turning a beaming gaze upon her son-in-law. “We have heard the most astonishing stories! Surely there must be some great reward for such a service. Have you heard from Court, sir? A knighthood at the very least, I should think! Oh, how well ‘Lady Darcy’ would sound!”
Darcy bore the effusive greeting with a fortitude Elizabeth could only admire, and responded with solemn courtesy. He caught Elizabeth’s eye over Mrs Bennet’s shoulder, a flicker of affectionate amusement passing between them.
Mary, Kitty, and Lydia descended upon them next, the latter two chattering with excitement, their questions a breathless cascade of London fashions, the grandeur of Pemberley, and most importantly, whether Mr Darcy knew any eligible lords.
Mr Bennet emerged last. He bypassed the noisy group surrounding Darcy and came directly to Elizabeth, his gaze searching hers. Seeing the undisguised happiness there, he nodded slightly.
Then, pitching his voice lower so his words were heard only by her, he glanced over at his beleaguered son-in-law and said, “On the day we were summoned to hear of…your most unconventional betrothal, I observed your Mr Darcy’s reaction to the mention of any affection entering the arrangement. It was rather fascinating.”
Elizabeth raised an eyebrow, a questioning smile on her lips.
“I suspected then,” he continued, his eyes twinkling, “that this alliance had the potential to become a great deal more entertaining than most.” He paused, his expression softening with a rare, undisguised warmth, before continuing, “I mustcommend you, Lizzy. The outcome has exceeded all my expectations.”
“I am glad my marriage has become such a satisfactory source of amusement for you, Papa,” she said, laughing.
