Elizabeth Bennet's Excellent Adventure: A Pride and Prejudice Vagary (18 page)

Darcy shrugged his indifference.

“But I plan to wait just the same; I am quite content with my own company in the time being.”

Unable to be without Elizabeth one day longer, Darcy arrived at Netherfield some three days prior. With a special license and a speedy journey down the aisle, Wickham claimed Miss Sloane to wife. Darcy and the lady’s brother stood witness to the joining before Sloane ferried the couple to a ship for the journey to India. Although Sloane freely shared his intentions with Darcy to send his sister abroad for a time, Darcy suspected that neither Wickham nor the girl knew their true destination. The couple spoke only of the kindness Sloane extended in affording them a wedding journey.

Five days later, Miss Lydia and Captain Vaughan exchanged vows. Bingley escorted Miss Bennet and Miss Kitty to London to enjoy the festivities. According to Elizabeth, Miss Lydia liked the idea of being the first of her sisters to marry.

Among the parties involved, they created a convoluted story of how Mr. Wickham escorted Miss Lydia to London so both Wickham and Lydia could claim other engagements. Thankfully, the connection to Sloane in both Wickham’s and Miss Lydia’s joinings gave credit to the story. As a group, they went so far as to say Mrs. Forster misunderstood Miss Lydia’s hastily written note.

My Dear Harriet: You will laugh when you know where I am gone, and I cannot help laughing myself at your surprise tomorrow morning as soon as I am missed. I am going to Gretna Green, and if you cannot guess with whom I shall think you a simpleton, for there is but one man in the world I love, and he is an angel. I should never be happy without him, so think it no harm to be off. You need not send them word at Longbourn of my going if you do not like it, for it will make the surprise the greater when I write them of it. What a good joke it will be! I can hardly write for laughing. Pray make my excuses to Pratt for not keeping my engagement, and dancing with him tonight. Tell him I hope he will excuse me when he knows all, and tell him I will dance with him at the next ball we meet with great pleasure. I shall send for my clothes when I get to Longbourn; but I wish you would tell Sally to mend a great slit in my worked muslin gown before they are packed up. Goodbye! Give my love to Colonel Forster. I hope you will drink to my good journey.                    

Your affectionate friend, “Lydia Bennet”

The tale was the best they could do with so many in Meryton aware of Miss Lydia’s flight. They each repeated it with stomach-churning seriousness when asked. With Sloane calling upon the Philipses to continue his courtship of Miss Mary, the story knew some credibility. Sloane recognized his role in quashing the rumors with a straight-faced gravity. Throughout their manipulations, it confounded Darcy to acknowledge Sloane as an ally, especially after the damage the man did to Elizabeth’s self-confidence; yet, it was necessary to swallow his trepidation in order to keep peace in his future family.

Sloane, Vaughan’s parents, and several of the former captain’s officers attended the ceremony and the small wedding breakfast hosted by the Bennets and the Gardiners, but held at Bingley’s more fashionable address. Darcy found it amusing how Mrs. Bennet claimed hostess duties at the event, which was the lady’s due as the bride’s mother. Nevertheless, Darcy whispered a warning to Bingley that their future mother in marriage did not do the same once Bingley claimed Miss Bennet to wife.

Darcy held a better opinion of Elizabeth’s mother than previously; even so, he preferred more than three miles separating his household from the Bennets.

“Did you break your fast?” Would you care for tea, Mr. Darcy?” Williamson asked in continued amusement.

“Mr. Sheffield is likely to experience an apoplexy if I would foolishly spill something on his creation.”

Darcy gestured to the ornately tied cravat.

“If my man knew I dared to bring a wrinkle to the cut of my coat by sitting, a mutiny would ensue.”

He nodded to the clergyman.

“Enjoy your meal, Sir. I am content to wait for my bride.”

“As you will, Mr. Darcy.”

Although the church was not the proper place to reminisce over the kisses he shared last evening with Elizabeth, Darcy’s thoughts naturally drifted to that exquisite moment.

Darcy presented her with the necklace he purchased for her in London.

“Oh, William, it is exquisite,” she said through joyful tears. “I have never seen another like it.”

“The jeweler called the darker stones chocolate diamonds. They hold hints of fire in them, very much like your hair.”

They were alone in the drawing room at Longbourn as Bingley and Miss Bennet sought the dark garden for their time together.

“You noticed,” Elizabeth said in wonder.

“I told you previously, there is little of importance that slips my notice when it comes to you, Elizabeth Bennet.”

“I have something for you also,” she said nervously. “But I fear my gift cannot compare with yours. I find I am lacking in your study of human nature.” She chuckled in irony. “Needless to say this is a blow to my self importance, but I promise to be a most attentive student in the future.”

“You will give me everything I desire or need tomorrow before your Meryton neighbors. I require nothing more.”

Elizabeth rose to cross to a table where a large object was wrapped in brown paper.

“Then consider this a gift to both of us.”

She placed the object in Darcy’s lap.

“Open it,” she instructed. “I asked Miss Darcy for suggestions as to something you would not purchase for yourself, and dearest Georgiana shared an idea she thought to claim as her own.”

Darcy’s fingers suddenly felt stiff as he loosened the string about the package. Without seeing it, he knew the object a book–a very thick book. At length, he lifted the paper to look upon a Bible.

“What is this?” he asked as he placed the paper upon the side table.

“A Bible,” Elizabeth said nervously. “A family Bible.”

She reached to open the front pages.

“Miss Darcy said the one at Pemberley held all the Darcy family names, but your and Georgiana’s names were the last the book would accommodate.”

Elizabeth pointed to the page in the book she purchased.

“I took the liberty to begin where the Darcy family left off. See, I placed the names of your mother and father here and my parents on the opposite side. Then I placed you and Miss Darcy beneath Mr. George and Lady Anne Darcy and me and my sisters under Papa and Mrs. Bennet. If we are so blessed to have children, they will receive a proper place.”

Tears filled Darcy’s eyes.

“I gave you a babble, while you presented me a future. You are the most amazing woman God ever created.”

Setting the book on the table, he gathered her to him, their bodies connected from chin to chest. He kissed Elizabeth with all the passion he felt for her, but it was not enough until she abandoned her defenses, shuddering in his embrace. Darcy tightened his hold as Elizabeth accepted him completely. God! He would be fortunate among the men of his class.

It was all Darcy could do not to claim his wedding night a day early. His breath abandoned him for several elongated seconds before he could reassure Elizabeth that what they shared was beyond extraordinary.

“You could tempt a man of more saintly intentions than I.”

Darcy showered small kisses across Elizabeth’s eyelids and cheeks. There was a time Darcy would curse his lack of control, but surrendering to Elizabeth’s charms was one of his most intelligent decisions.

In the days leading up to her departure from London, they often returned to the conversation topic of their former misconstructions.

“It was most uncomfortable to acknowledge my shortcomings,” she admitted as they sat together in the shadows of her Aunt Gardiner’s garden. “I permitted fear to color my opinions. I should not have run away.”

Darcy reached for Elizabeth’s hand. He came to the opinion of late that even the simplest of connections prevented their arguments.

“You returned to my side, that is all that matters.”

Darcy kissed the back of Elizabeth’s hand. He purposely permitted his breath to warm her skin.

“Elizabeth, I find I often stumble over my words when I attempt to express my feelings,” he said without looking upon her questioning features.

Darcy’s eyes remained upon their locked hands.

“It grieves me how often I failed to explain what I assumed was blatantly clear.”

“I never provided you the opportunity. I was too quick with a saucy rebuke meant to protect my pride,” Elizabeth countered.

“We are a pair, are we not, my dear?” Darcy said in earnest. “But a pair, we will always be. I cannot bear to think of my life without you.”

Elizabeth caressed Darcy’s cheek with her free hand.

“We are likely two of the most opinionated people God ever created, and we are not likely to change, Mr. Darcy. I recently told my mother I possessed Mr. Bennet’s natural intelligence, mixed with a large dose of Mrs. Bennet’s passionate emotions. I would go so far as to say you are cut from similar cloths. Nevertheless, I believe we are the perfect pair. I believe it so profoundly I mean to claim a lifelong adventure of being the Mistress of Pemberley.”

* * *

Darcy stood at the front of the church and waited for Elizabeth’s appearance. He pretended not to hear whether it would he who left the church alone this time; even so, Darcy knew Elizabeth would come.

At length, the sounds of whispers increased, and Darcy turned his head to see Elizabeth step into the opening from the vestibule, her hand rested upon her father’s arm. She was magnificent in the gown Georgiana chose for her. Darcy enlisted Mrs. Bennet’s assistance in convincing Elizabeth to accept his gift.

A shear green overdress, embroidered with gold leaves and white roses on the hem and the mid-arm sleeves covered a simple off-white gown. Darcy ordered white roses and leaves of ivy for a bouquet for her to carry, and Elizabeth added several of the flowers to her hair. She went without a bonnet so as not to crush the flowers, chosen from his conservatory. A simple pearl necklace graced her neck.

Darcy watched Elizabeth’s expression, expecting a moment of panic to claim her, but no signs of “second guesses” were evident. Their gazes collided, and Darcy’s heart opened to the sunshine Elizabeth brought to his life. Her chin lifted in the beautiful defiance Darcy adored. Logic and common sense went out the door the day Darcy rested his eyes upon her at the Meryton assembly. A bond existed before he could give it a name. Now, Elizabeth Bennet would be his.

She reached where he waited for her. Together they turned to face Vicar Williamson. With a clearing of his throat, the cleric began, “Dearly beloved…”

* * *

Darcy watched as Elizabeth circulated among her neighbors, accepting their congratulations. His wife was certainly not his customary type, but from their first encounter Elizabeth’s bold gaze fascinated him. She was a finely crafted ornamental tracery, shaped from passion and sympathy and a quick intellect, as well as a comely countenance and a playful seduction. The new Mrs. Darcy held no idea the feminine powers she wielded.

At length, she reached the place where Darcy waited for her. Without his reaching for her hand, Elizabeth laced her arm through his. He leaned down to whisper for her ears only.

“You are quite beautiful, my dear.”

Ducking her chin, Elizabeth glanced up at him; a twinkling of impish humor crossed her features.

“What woman would not he beautiful with such a delicate necklace gracing her neck. I received multiple compliments upon it.”

His wife’s delight was all that Darcy hoped.

“Mr. Sloane’s men did not think to steal it?”
she asked as she cuddled into Darcy’s embrace.

“As foolish as it may sound, I made certain that I protected the necklace and your ring from theft,”
Darcy explained as he tightened his hold on her.

“Oh, William,”
she gasped.
“What I ever did to deserve your regard, I shall never know, but I am most grateful you chose me when I had so little to offer. But you must promise me you will never place yourself in danger again. The jewels are of little significance, but our future family is.”

“The only compliment necessary is the one from your luscious lips,” Darcy murmured.

“Mr. Darcy,” Elizabeth breathed in a voice that said his boldness affected her.

“Yes, Mrs. Darcy,” he teased as his eyes traced the links holding the diamonds and topaz in an intricate embrace.

“We should speak our farewells, Sir.”

It did Darcy well to hear the hitch in her breathing. He permitted the teasing tone to remain as he lifted the back of Elizabeth’s free hand to his lips.

“See how well matrimony suits us. We agree at last.”

From the overhang, Darcy looked
down upon his wife of some three months. Elizabeth crossed the open field, her skirt hiked high enough for Darcy to have a peek at her shapely calves and ankles. He returned to Pemberley after spending time examining the new forge with his steward to discover that Elizabeth meant to call upon the Burrells’ cottage to take Mrs. Burrell a basket of welcome for the woman’s new daughter. Immediately Darcy set out to find her, not because he did not trust Elizabeth to exercise her duties properly, but because he missed her with an ache never quenched.

It was the oddest realization that he frequently abandoned his work to seek out Elizabeth in his manor house. One would think as often as they enjoyed intimacies that Darcy would tire of her closeness, but all it took was the sweet scent of lavender to set his groin afire and have him on the move through Pemberley House.

Their first night together remained the most spectacular of Darcy’s life. Certainly they shared more passion on other evenings since, as Darcy taught Elizabeth how to please him, and he learned something of his new wife’s preferences, but their wedding night came after months of longing.

From Longbourn, Darcy escorted Elizabeth to Brighton where they spent their first evening together at the same inn Fitzwilliam claimed a month prior. The following day, they boarded the yacht bearing his wife’s name to spend three leisurely days enjoying the calm seas, the excellent food prepared especially for them, and many moments in undress.

“You are magnificent,” Darcy whispered in Elizabeth’s ear when the innkeeper closed the door behind him, and they were alone in a room with a large bed for the first time.

He took her in a loose embrace.

“I will treat you kindly,” he assured.

“I do not fear you,” she admitted. “Only disappointing you.”

“That would be impossible.”

Darcy kissed her forehead.

“We will enjoy some champagne and permit things to happen naturally. There are no expectations other than the pleasure of looking upon you wearing my ring.”

Elizabeth held her hand up to admire the band.

“It is beyond exquisite. There is none to compare to it.”

“And none to compare to you.”

Darcy lifted her chin to brush his lips across Elizabeth’s. He heard her breathing turn ragged, and on impulse Darcy swayed to a tune demanded by their hearts. At Netherfield, he wondered what it would be to hold Elizabeth close and to dance a waltz with her. Expertly, he turned his wife in a tight circle, his left hand pressing against Elizabeth’s lower back to edge her closer to his center.

They gazed into each other’s eyes. A sizzling bolt of heat warmed Darcy’s desires, and he knew the exact instant Elizabeth knew a shock to her control. It still bothered Darcy that his absence from their first wedding ceremony injured Elizabeth so deeply. His heart reached out to her; somehow, he would wipe those memories clean.

Darcy sucked in a breath to reclaim his senses, but the scent of woodsy lavender filled his lungs. It was a scent that held promises of wildflowers and sensual delights. Its essence declared this particular woman Darcy’s heart. Elizabeth’s eyes reflected Darcy’s passion, and he kissed her fully as they swayed to a halt.

He threaded his fingers into Elizabeth’s hair, sending pins and rose petals drifting to the floor.

“You are trembling,” he whispered, his mouth hovering above hers.

“I never dreamed of this…” Elizabeth said in what sounded of confusion. “Until your letter, I never permitted myself to consider love as a possibility. I did not know it would be like this. So overpowering.”

Pressed closely to him, Darcy felt her heart beat with his. His mouth returned to hers for only that gesture erased a remnant of Darcy’s fierce need for her. For a moment, he thought to savor Elizabeth’s acquiescence, but her lips parted, and his wife yielded to the rising heat between them.

Darcy swept Elizabeth into his arms to carry her to the bed. Unable not to touch her, he followed her down. Darcy’s world melded into a swirling mix of past, present, and future. For more months than he cared to consider, he desired Elizabeth beneath him.

“I love you,” he murmured, his lips skimming her skin.

“And I love you,” she whispered.

What ensued played out before Darcy’s eyes, mixed with the image of the woman, who haunted all his dreams, crossing the field. Despite reliving every second of their first coming together, his conscious mind registered when his wife stopped to turn in playful circles, her arms spread wide.

Darcy eased his desire for Elizabeth to begin his descent to the field below. As he crossed the rock ledge, he watched Elizabeth remove her bonnet to toss it in the air in pure abandon. Setting his steps along the path, Darcy recognized how often his wife likely experienced such pleasure. Miss Bingley’s remark of Elizabeth’s petticoat being six inches in mud brought a smile to Darcy’s lips as he approached.

“There is my darling girl,” he called as Elizabeth stumbled to a halt.

She glanced up to Darcy and smiled.

“You searched for me, Sir?” Elizabeth teased.

“Always,” Darcy said as he swept her into his arms. “Searched until I found
the one
.”

He kissed her gently.

“I was just considering our makeshift waltz on our wedding night. Would you care to attempt it again with a bit more room? A field of flowers to soften our steps?”

“We have a ballroom at Pemberley House,” she taunted as she set her hand upon Darcy’s shoulder.

He chuckled easily.

“That room is for sword lessons and a bit of
wrestling
.”

Elizabeth kissed his chin line.

“Heaven forbid if we decide to host a ball at Pemberley. We will scandalize our guests,” she murmured.

“I care not.”

Darcy stroked her back and hips before he set their steps in motion, sweeping Elizabeth through the twists of yellow, blue, red, and purple. Her laughter filled the air with a tinkling sound to which Darcy accepted his addiction.

“You are scandalous, Mr. Darcy,” she chastised as he reached to loosen the pins holding her hair in a loose chignon.

“I am the Master of Pemberley. If I wish to dance with my wife among the wildflowers, it is no one’s concern, but mine.”

Elizabeth tightened her grip upon Darcy’s shoulder, sliding her hand to the back of his neck.

“What if the Mistress of Pemberley wishes to kiss the Master while standing in said field?”

A catch in Elizabeth’s breath told Darcy his wife’s heat climbed as quickly as his.

“Your wish is my command,” he murmured as he lowered his head.

He kissed her with all the hopes he held those long months they were apart, and Elizabeth responded with a like yearning. The fact his wife expressed her open affection did Darcy well.

Without thinking, Darcy released her to sweep off his long coat, the one he regularly wore when he examined the fields and structures of the estate. He bent to spread it upon the ground before lifting Elizabeth to his arms to place his wife upon the coat.

Kneeling beside her, Darcy looked upon her seductive appeal. Elizabeth’s hair rested in rolling waves about her shoulders, and she closed her eyes to drink in the sweetness of an early autumn day. The sleeves of her gown slipped from her shoulders, and Darcy’s eyes drank his fill of the creamy expanse of skin.

He stretched out beside her, holding Elizabeth’s hand to enjoy the moment.

“I who have everything,” she whispered, and Darcy recognized the source of the words she recited as being from his letter, “still have nothing of value if you are not at my side to share my wealth. You rejected my adoration, proving me unworthy of tempting you with either the luxury of my fortune or the deep affection with which I hold you.”

“That was long ago, Elizabeth.”

“But it was the moment I knew how foolish I acted,” she countered.

His wife rolled to her side to snuggle against Darcy’s arm.

“I realized how lost I would feel if I never were to encounter you again and the misery I would know when watching you offer your attentions to another. A heart that breaks cannot mend unless it joins to another. I cursed myself for never saying the words that I wished you to know. I so feared that your affection would fade away.”

Her hip caressed Darcy’s thigh, and they remained as such in silence for several elongated moments, each lost in his recollections.

Life would never be perfect, but Elizabeth’s presence in his life made Darcy a finer man; he felt it so with his entire being. His wife softened Darcy’s edges, made him wish to achieve all he could for her and their future family, and Darcy loved Elizabeth with all his heart.

“You are lost in your thoughts again,” Elizabeth teased. “You do that often, Mr. Darcy.”

Darcy rolled upon his side to face her.

“My thoughts are always of you.”

“Why ever for?”

Elizabeth placed her hand over Darcy’s heart, and he cupped it to press her palm to his chest.

“Because in both countenance and soul, you are the most beautiful woman of my acquaintance.”

“Your wife and someday the mother of your children,” she said on a tremble.

Darcy leaned over her to roll Elizabeth to her back as he covered her mouth with a kiss of promise of infinite love. A warmth awakened in Darcy’s chest as his wife wrapped her fingers about his nape to hold him to her. Darcy pronounced a silent prayer of thanksgiving as Elizabeth’s sweet breath whispered his name. Later, he would claim the joyful sound of his children’s laughter filling the halls of Pemberley the sweetest sound he would ever know, but until then, Darcy found comfort in his wife’s gasp of “William, we cannot. Not here,” which Darcy skillfully proved her in error.

~ Finis ~