Elizabeth sank to the ground beneath a tree well off the garden path. She needed time alone, time to think, time to breathe. Tears spilled down her cheeks, her strength and composure shattering.
She longed to return to the happiness and tranquility of a week ago before those men had kidnapped her before she had acted so brashly to defend herself from the fear which had threatened to engulf her.
It had been a long, arduous day. After leaving the cottage and arriving at Netherfield, she had found herself first whisked off to bathe and change her clothing, then after a light meal and a forced rest, she had been asked to relate the details of her captivity.
For an hour, she had paced the length of Netherfield’s sitting room and spoke, beginning with the tea in the garden on the night of the assembly and concluding with being left at the cottage that morning. Occasionally, she was required to stop to clarify a point or to allow Georgiana to fill in details about Elizabeth’s behaviour which Elizabeth would have gladly left out.
She had watched the faces of those who listened to her tale. Richard often raised his eyebrows in surprise over the details she could give about her whereabouts. Mr. Samuels and Mr. Fredericks frequently smirked over the reactions of the two true captors to the tenacity she had displayed, while others alternated between looking shocked and relieved.
However, there was one in the room whose face she had watched most intently and whose expression of growing unease throughout the recounting caused knots to form in her stomach. What Elizabeth could not decipher was the cause.
Was Mr. Darcy purely uneasy with the fact that those he cared about had been in danger? Or did he find the actions she had taken during her captivity to be displeasing?
She pulled her knees toward her chest and rested her forehead on them. What must he think of her? How he must question the sort of woman to whom he had attached himself! She sighed allowing herself to feel the full weight of her emotions.
“Elizabeth?” a familiar voice called to her.
Elizabeth stiffened and quickly wiped at her eyes with her handkerchief. “Yes?” she managed to reply.
There was a swish of skirts and soon she felt a presence sitting next to her under the tree pulling her close. “Now, my dear daughter, there is no need for tears.” A gentle hand stroked her hair, and she felt a light kiss on the top of her head.
“What must he think of me, Mama? I am so ashamed of how I acted when I was a captive, and he has heard all of it. You always did say that my impertinence, if I did not control it, would one day cost me dearly.” A small sob escaped her.
“Shhh…I will admit your impertinence has always been a source of great vexation to me. How many times did I scold and berate you for your quick mind and even quicker tongue? Did I not tell you no man wished to have an intelligent wife?”
Elizabeth nodded. She braced herself for the lecture which was sure to follow such statements.
“But neither you nor your father would listen. ‘Fanny,’ your father would say, ‘you must trust that I know what men desire in a wife, and although some men do not wish for a wife with a quick mind, there are those who do.’
“What could I do? He was your father, and I was to bow to his edicts. So I allowed him to indulge your interest in learning, at the expense of some of the more sought after female graces such as music.”
Elizabeth sniffled. “I am sorry, Mama.”
“Sorry?” questioned her mother in surprise. “For what are you sorry?”
“For being an embarrassment to you. Had I but listened…” Another sob stopped her from speaking further.
“If you had but listened, you would not be the fine, accomplished young lady you are today. I am not embarrassed by you. I am proud of you. Your father was right, as he often is.” Mrs. Bennet placed a knuckle under Elizabeth’s chin and tipped her face up so she might see her eyes.
“There are men who prefer an intelligent wife, and your Mr. Darcy is one of them. Elizabeth, trust me when I say he loves you. He has not slept in his room for three days. I found him each morning in a chair in the sitting room near a window as if he kept vigil in case you and his sister returned, and he ate only when forced.” Mrs. Bennet smoothed back a stray curl from her daughter’s face. “Many young girls hope to one day be loved in such a fashion. Your keen mind allowed you to do what was necessary to keep yourself and Miss Darcy safe. Mr. Darcy will only love you more for it.”
Mrs. Bennet nodded toward the path where Mr. Darcy walked. “He is searching for you. Shall I tell him where you are?”
“Thank you, Mama. But, I do not know if I can face him just yet.”
“Nonsense, child. You can, and you will. You must never hide from your husband, Elizabeth. You must summon your courage and speak to him of whatever is wrong. Never end a day with anything unsettled between you. Your father and I have always held to this philosophy, and we are happy, truly happy.”
Mrs. Bennet gave her daughter a hug and then standing shook out her skirts, stepped out from the copse of trees and called Mr. Darcy. Elizabeth cringed at the shrillness of her mother’s voice. Mr. Darcy turned and a smile suffused his face when he realized why Mrs. Bennet was beckoning him.
In mere moments he was in front of her, ducking beneath the trees and smiling down at her as if he had found a great treasure. “Elizabeth,” he said as he extended a hand to assist her to her feet. “Will you walk with me?”
Darcy noticed the tear stains on her cheeks and the redness of her eyes and nose. He lifted her hand and pressed it against his lips before placing it in the crook of his arm. “Will you tell me what has made you upset? Is it the recounting of unpleasant events or something more?”
He paused and watched Elizabeth look away from the path for a moment as if she wished to escape back to the trees. “I happen to believe it was something more,” he said softly. “Will you please tell me?”
The tender pleading of his voice was not that of a man who disapproved of her. Firmly fixing her eyes upon the path, Elizabeth summoned her courage. “I am concerned about how you might view some of my actions. Many of them were quite unladylike.”
“Ah, Richard told me my face may have bespoken emotions which could be misinterpreted. I can assure you I found nothing that my dearest, loveliest Elizabeth has done to be worthy of censure.”
“You are not embarrassed by my actions and my words? You do not regret being attached to someone who is so impertinent?” She kept her gaze firmly fixed on the ground.
He stopped walking and stood before her, grasping both of her hands in his own. “I am grateful for every action which allowed both you and Georgiana to return to me. And, I find I am quite fond of your impertinence, my love. I believe it was your impertinence that led you to me.”
Elizabeth gave him a questioning look. “How did my impertinence lead me to you?”
He placed her hand back in the crook of his arm and resumed walking. “My uncle, it would seem, thought your impertinence was the perfect counterbalance for my austere nature.”
“Your uncle?” Elizabeth had stopped on the path and looked at him with her eyebrows still drawn together in question.
“Lord Matlock.” Darcy deliberately misunderstood her question hoping that through a bit of teasing, he might lift her from her melancholy and return the twinkle to her eye.
“I know who your uncle is,” said an exasperated Elizabeth. “I just do not know what he has to do with my impertinence, your austere nature, and us.”
“It would seem my uncle is a matchmaker. He and his friends, who include two of your uncles and your father, decided long ago that you and I should meet and hopefully marry. Richard told me of it just yesterday.”
“Your uncle?” repeated Elizabeth.
“Lord Matlock,” Darcy repeated with a lifted brow.
“I know who he is.” Elizabeth attempted to glare at him, but when he waggled that one eyebrow, she could not help but laugh.
“In my opinion, my uncle is a very good matchmaker, for I find I am most ardently in love with his choice.”
“You are not displeased with me?”
“I am not displeased with you. Although,” he said feigning gravity, “I do hope in the future you refrain from undressing in front of any man save me.”
Elizabeth gasped and swatted his arm. “Mr. Darcy! We shall not be speaking of undressing. It is most improper!”
A chuckle rumbled within Darcy’s chest. “I think I understand why your father enjoys being scolded by your mother.”
“You think my father enjoys being scolded by my mother?”
Darcy nodded. “Indeed, I do.”
“And why is that, Mr. Darcy?”
“When you scold me, as you just did, I find it very difficult to resist the urge to kiss your impertinent lips, my dear.”
“Mr. Darcy!”
“That is not helping, Elizabeth,” he replied quite seriously.
Elizabeth smiled at him. The twinkle that he had worked to restore to her eyes was there. “I know, but I find my impertinent lips would welcome your addresses.”
“We are in the garden, in clear view of the house, Elizabeth.”
Elizabeth sighed. “I suppose you are right. But, be warned. I do not intend to complete my day without at least one kiss from you, sir.”
“I will keep that in mind.” Again he raised her hand to his lips. Elizabeth quirked an eyebrow in challenge and with a laugh and a glance over his shoulder, Darcy pulled her into his embrace and kissed her.
~*~*~*~*~*~
“Shall we go stop them, dear?” whispered Lady Matlock to her husband who was standing near a window overlooking Netherfield’s garden. “I do believe you were quite incensed the last time you looked out a window and thought you saw Elizabeth kissing someone.” She chuckled softly.
A low growl rumbled from her husband, the memory of being tricked in such a fashion still rankled him. “No, my dear, I shall not stop them. This time, she is kissing the correct gentleman.”
“Yes, your plans have worked at last. I must say you are a very wise man. His father would be pleased with how happy his son is. You and your friends have fulfilled your promise to him as far as his son is concerned.” Lady Matlock pulled her husband from the window and led him to a seat not far from the window and separated enough from the others in the room so that she might talk to him in privacy.
“Richard told Fitzwilliam of your long-standing relationship with Elizabeth and your matchmaking.”
Lord Matlock stiffened. He had always dreaded the day when his nephew who abhorred all appearance of disguise found out about his manoeuvring. “What was his response?”
“He was not displeased. It seems he is quite content with your choice for him. However, he did have one question.”
“He wishes to know why I waited so long to allow him to meet her.”
Lady Matlock nodded. “It appears it is time for you to have a certain discussion with him.” She laid a hand on his arm to stay him from moving. “You will also need to speak with Elizabeth. I am sure that if she has not suspected your involvement, Fitzwilliam has disclosed it to her. You do have his gift?”
“I do. Do you wish to accompany me? I feel the need for a turn about the garden.” Lord Matlock rose and extended his arm to his wife.
“It has been an emotion filled day. Do you feel it is wise to broach the subject today?”
“You know, as well as I, how Fitzwilliam will brood about a question. If I do not address it now, he will spend yet another sleepless night, and I do not wish to know what explanation his mind might create. I prefer for him to know the truth.”
After a quick stop in his room to retrieve the gift, Lord and Lady Matlock began a quick tour of the garden in search of Darcy and Elizabeth. They found them sitting in the gazebo.
“May we join you?” asked Lord Matlock.
Darcy, who had stood to welcome his aunt and uncle, nodded and motioned for them to be seated.
“I am not one to circle a matter as I feel coming straight to the point is the path that allows for the least misunderstanding,” began Lord Matlock. “I have been made aware that Richard has spoken to you of my involvement in some subterfuge that would involve you and Miss Elizabeth.”
“If you are referring to your part in the arranged meeting of myself and Miss Elizabeth, then yes, he spoke to me of it. If you refer to some other trickery, then I know not of it.” Darcy smiled as he spoke.
“Yes, well…” His uncle was relieved that Darcy did not appear angry and that Elizabeth seemed to also know of what he spoke, yet finding the correct words seemed to be difficult. He knew the topic about which he needed to speak would bring a certain degree of sadness along with, he hoped, eventual joy. “I believe you wished to know why I waited so long to introduce you to Miss Elizabeth since I have known her for most of her life.”
“That part does befuddle me.”
“I truly wished to introduce you to her at an earlier age, but your fathers did not think it wise. They wished to allow you both time to find your own match. Darcy, your father was gravely ill at that time and felt that should you be taken with Miss Elizabeth, as he suspected you would be, the responsibility of Pemberley and a young wife would be too much for you to shoulder at one time. Bennet felt his daughter was still too young and not adequately prepared to take on the role of mistress of such a grand estate as Pemberley–and I suspect, since she has a special place in his heart, he was not yet willing to part with her.”
“How old was I when you all agreed to this plan?” asked Elizabeth.
Lord Matlock looked at Elizabeth’s face and was relieved to find interest rather than anger. He knew he could handle the storming about of his nephew should he be angry, but an angry or hurt Elizabeth was something which would be much more difficult to handle. “You were not yet sixteen.”
“My father knew of…Elizabeth?”
Lord Matlock pulled a folded piece of paper from the book which he held. “Perhaps your father could explain it to you better than I. He left this for you, both of you. I will leave you to read it in privacy, but your aunt and I will be walking in the garden should you have any questions.” He handed the missive to Darcy and rising, he placed the book he held on the bench where he had been sitting.
Darcy opened the letter cautiously. He was both eager to hear what his father had to say and apprehensive about what emotions it may elicit.
“Shall I read it aloud to you?” he asked Elizabeth.
“I should be surprised if doing so would not be too great a strain on you,” said Elizabeth. “I shall look on with you.” She slid closer to him so she might see the fine, close writing of the letter.
Fitzwilliam and Elizabeth,
Today I take up my pen and write to you with both joy and a heavy heart. It is with joy that I congratulate you upon your betrothal, and it is with grief that I write this knowing full well I shall not be there with you. I know my time is not long on this earth, but before I go to be reunited with your mother, Fitzwilliam, I feel it necessary to speak of my heart to you both.
Fitzwilliam, I am certain that you are confused as to why this letter is addressed to you and Elizabeth—how could I know who she is? You always were a boy who pondered the how’s and why’s of all situations. It is that inquisitive nature along with your ability to ponder and weigh all available information before coming to a decision which makes you the fine man I know you are today.
Before I tell you how I know of Elizabeth, let me urge you to include her in your reflections and decisions. Your responsibilities are great but can be made to feel less onerous when shared with those whom you can trust for guidance and encouragement. Elizabeth must be one of those persons. Contrary to what most society proclaims, a marriage is not a mere business arrangement, it is the joining of two people to form one family. It is a partnership with each individual having a particular role to play while also lending aid to the other. Is this not what the Good Book teaches? Is it not the intent of creation?
Elizabeth is the daughter of a very dear friend and advisor of mine. Mr. Bennet and I met at school as young men and have kept in correspondence with one another ever since. I have relied on his counsel many times over the course of time. Today, I had the privilege to meet his daughter. While I could go on and on about her — how she was kind to the servants, how she showed sensitivity to my feelings when we spoke of your mother, how she willingly took it upon herself to assist where she saw a need, how she is intelligent and well-read, how she possesses a playful, teasing nature that brings joy to those around her — I will sum up my opinion using the words of Mrs. Reynolds — she is delightfully determined — and add to that the opinion I share of her with your uncle — she is your match in every way.
Your uncle wishes to have you meet her now, but knowing the responsibilities which I will lay at your feet with my departure, I do not wish to put such strain on you or Elizabeth. It would be better, I believed, for you to familiarize yourself with the role of master and guardian of your sister before adding to that the roles of husband and father. I do hope you will forgive me for keeping her from you for those years. I knew that one meeting would be enough for you to lose your heart to her just as I have.
Elizabeth, it has been an honour to meet the lady who will make my son happy and will be the mother of my grandchildren. They will be blessed to call you wife and mother, and Pemberley will be blessed to have you as its mistress. It gives me a measure of peace to leave my son, my daughter, and my estate in your capable hands, Elizabeth. I only regret I will not be here to share with you and my grandchildren stories about Pemberley — stories of our family, of my wife and children. To that end, I have left a gift for you. It is something I know you love — a friend — a book. It is the story of our family. I have begun writing in it today and will record as many stories as I have time to tell. You and Fitzwilliam must add to it with stories of your own and pass it down to your children and they to their children so that each generation may, in turn, add to it creating a lasting and living legacy.
May God bless you.
Your father,
George Darcy
Lord Matlock walked with his wife but kept an eye on where the young couple sat. He saw them both at various times wipe their eyes. He saw Elizabeth slip her arm through Darcy’s and lay her head upon his shoulder as he smiled down at her. Then, he saw her pick up the book and begin to read.
“You have done well,” whispered Lady Matlock. “Theirs shall be a very happy union.”
Lord Matlock took one last look at the couple laughing over some incident written in the book before turning to lead his wife back to the house.