Elizabeth wiped her tears silently.
“I trust you are crying with joy,” he continued, attempting a light-hearted tone.
“I no longer know why I am crying,” she replied, and he silently thanked her for her honesty. He allowed himself to hope that, among her emotions, there was a sliver of regret for him. Yet he said nothing—not for her, but for himself—unsure he could maintain composure in such a conversation. It was better for certain things to remain unspoken and the atmosphere between them to stay calm.
“How was it possible to find such a fabric?” she asked, accepting his decision to steer the conversation towards safer ground.
“You do not want to know. I believe I was about fifteen years old, and our house was flooded with silks in these colours for several days, brought from every corner of England—or the world, to be more precise. My father threatened to move to Pemberley to escape the deluge, but in the end, my mother found what she sought, and theLady Darcy gownwas created.”
“It is perfect.”
He nodded, for the gown, paradoxically, seemed to mirror Elizabeth herself—a fusion of joy and vitality tempered by sobriety rooted in her reflective, slightly sarcastic nature. From beyond the grave, it seemed as though Lady Anne had bequeathed this dress to her, crafted as if for her alone.
“If my mother were here, I am certain she would insist you wear this gown the day after tomorrow,” he said.
“The day after tomorrow?”
“Yes, the duke has sent word that the vicar of our church will marry us the day after tomorrow—” He paused, gazing at her. “I am asking you for the last time. Are you certain this is what you want?”
His voice still wavered with uncertainty, but Elizabeth, disregarding the turmoil in his heart, looked at him and replied, “Do not be foolish. Who would not marry in such a gown?”
Chapter 22
Two days later, early in the morning, a knock at the door adjoining the master and mistress’s chambers startled Elizabeth awake, her heart leaping violently in her chest at the frightened voice of Darcy’s valet. She believed her betrothed had left the earth before they were married, and her first thought was for Georgiana. That terrifying future, which she was certain had suddenly unfolded, played out vividly in her mind, for until that moment, his death had been a hypothetical event she had never imagined becoming real.
What would she do without him? How would they live?
She rose from her bed, ready to go to his room, but her legs refused to obey. After murmuring, “Just a moment, Parker,” she leant against the headboard, struggling to breathe and regain a fragment of her shattered composure, hastily wrapping herself in the robe that had once belonged to Lady Anne. She pulled it tightly around her as if embracing a memory carriedthrough time. Silently, she pleaded with his mother to let him remain by her side a while longer.
An immense dread gripped her when opening the door, but to her relief, Darcy was watching her from the bed. His eyes were wide open, filled with so much love that her heart throbbed painfully again. She wanted to scold him, but his smile stopped her. She turned her gaze to Parker, ready to reprimand him instead, but the worry on his face restrained her once more.
“What is it?” she asked.
“Madam, I beg you to help me, I am desperate. The master insists on getting out of bed.”
“Darcy!” she exclaimed, but the smile on his face made her forget her worry, yet she continued rather severely, “This cannot be considered, sir. I do not understand what you want.”
“I am determined to dress and sit in an armchair. I refuse to remain in bed on my wedding day,” he declared with unwavering determination, his voice filled with a resolute tone that echoed through the room.
“But the physician said—”
“Forget what he said. I am still the master of this house, and I continue to give the orders. I promise you I shall not do anything reckless. Besides, I have been sitting upright for a week, and nothing untoward has occurred. If they help me move to an armchair, I shall not suffer for it.”
They both looked at Parker, who appeared too frail for such a task.
“Go, Parker, and fetch John and Ben. They will hold me, and you will assist me in dressing and shaving—”
“No!” Elizabeth exclaimed, and Darcy looked at her in surprise, ready to argue and defend his plan at any cost. Yet he saw that she had accepted his idea, and the “no” was for another reason.
“No?” he asked.
“I like the beard,” she said, blushing because it was precisely how she felt, and she had spoken before reflecting on her feelings—it was something that had come from her heart. He looked at her with disbelief, for her voice had been tender and cheerful, but her face looked confused.
“The beard stays, then,” Darcy said with infinite pleasure, seeing that in her heart, Elizabeth had a place for him that she was not wholly aware of. It was the most exquisite revelation on his wedding day, and one that filled him with joy. “You heard what your mistress wants,” he told Parker. “Now, prepare my clothes and fetch John, Ben, and Mr Talbot. Together, we shall manage.”
Parker left the room, but it was obvious that he still hoped his master’s plan would eventually be abolished.
“Do not leave,” Darcy asked Elizabeth, and even though she had many things to do, she sat in the chair beside his bed.
