Page 40 of Wedding at Pemberley

“You can hardly imagine what it means to me, with your own parents still near you. My parents have been gone for many years, and I miss them…I miss family. Your father welcomes me as a son rather than merely a son-in-law!”

Elizabeth laughed in response. “I daresay he secretly hoped for a son each time a daughter was born!”

Darcy smiled in turn. “Well, Elizabeth…I want you to give me a daughter first.”

A blush crept over Elizabeth’s cheeks. She had been confident that, from such a distance, he could do nothing to disturb her composure or stir her feelings. Yet he proved her wrong. Mentioning their future daughter carried an intimacy that made her feel his kisses and his arms around her. She continued to gaze at him, marvelling at the powerful effect he had on her even from four feet away. His eyes revealed how he intended to carry out his plans, though she remained ignorant of the details.

Darcy seemed to possess a remarkable ability to read her thoughts, for just before the Gardiners returned, he whispered, “I shall teach you everything, my love!”

At long last, a semblance of tranquillity settled upon them. Only a week earlier, their lives had been consumed by despair and apprehension. Still, Lydia’s approaching marriage brought some order back into their lives, though it was far from the peace their family had once known, when the absence of a yellow ribbon on a hat could unleash chaos. Mr Bennet could not recall a more wretched period than the one they were enduring.

And it was unfair, for Jane and Elizabeth were both engaged to be married. Instead of rejoicing over these happy events, they still feared for Lydia. Mr Bennet worried that their troubles were not yet over; it was inconceivable that such an affair should leave no lasting mark. Elizabeth and Jane were betrothed, but at least three long weeks remained until their weddings. Despite Mr Darcy’s efforts, their family’s reputation was grievously tarnished.

Mr Bennet fervently prayed that Lydia’s predicament would not keep his other daughters from happiness. Society was unmerciful, and a family could easily lose its good name.

Mr Bennet observed that Mr Bingley had hastened to Hertfordshire at the first opportunity, and Mr Darcy had not announced his engagement to London society.

They mainly met at the Gardiners’ house, but Darcy never invited Elizabeth to visit a friend or walk with him in the park. They seemed to be hiding, and Mr Bennet disliked it intensely. They visited Darcy’s home or dined with him, but they should hardly spend their engagement that way.

“I do not like this!” Mr Bennet remarked to Elizabeth one evening, revealing his anxieties. “You are hiding, and I fear his family opposes your marriage.”

“Papa, it is a little more complicated.”

“Oh,” Mr Bennet sighed. “How I hate complications. A wedding ought to be simple. Two people in love and a clergyman.”

Elizabeth wanted to tell him everything, but he was already so distressed by Lydia’s conduct that she decided to say nothing of her own troubles. After their conversation, she worried even more; she could neither sleep nor eat, waiting anxiously for Darcy to tell her more.

∞∞∞

Elizabeth adored his house; at times, she and the Gardiners visited in the morning with the children, who delighted in Georgiana’s former nursery, unchanged since her infancy.

“I believe Mama hoped for another baby, a little girl, which is why this room has remained unchanged.” He was speaking to Mrs Gardiner, but his words were meant for Elizabeth. He had intended that room for the child he wanted with her. She imagined her baby girl wandering among the toys and children’s books, her father watching over her with a radiant smile.

His house combined elegance and comfort, the intimacy of the parlours and drawing room with the symmetry, proportion and exquisite craftsmanship of the library. It was a refined yet inviting home that reflected the grace and taste of its owners.

Frequently, Elizabeth came with her father and Mr Gardiner, and on such occasions they were naturally invited to the library.

In that splendid room, Mr Bennet and Mr Gardiner, captivated by the volumes surrounding them, became oblivious to the world. With a fine brandy and some salted biscuits within reach, they happily passed books between them, as children might in a room full of toys.

“I should like to show Miss Elizabeth some paintings and other works of art,” Darcy remarked one morning, yet neither gentleman paid them any attention.

“Come,” he whispered to Elizabeth, who hesitated to accompany him but ardently wished to explore more of his house.

“They did not notice us leave,” Darcy remarked with undisguised affection for the two gentlemen.

Elizabeth nodded, though she doubted that her father and uncle were unaware of what was happening. Nevertheless, they seemed to tacitly agree that the young couple deserved a little time alone, given how much attention the scandal surrounding Lydia and Wickham had consumed.

They went upstairs and reached a richly decorated hall with paintings and sculptures that Elizabeth would have liked to stop and admire, but Darcy motioned her towards one of the rooms, and she followed him.

It took her a moment to realise he had led her into what appeared to be… his bedchamber. She longed to escape, but he took her hand and opened another door, saying with amusement, “This will be your private parlour, madam, and your bedchamber! Though you will not sleep here, even if the bed is exceptionally comfortable!”

“Was this your mother’s apartment?” Elizabeth murmured, fascinated. She looked around, pleasantly surprised to feel at ease in those elegant rooms at first sight.

“Yes, I have changed nothing here, though I altered my father’s rooms to suit my tastes. When we return after our wedding, you may change these rooms as you wish,” he explained, gesturing towards the spacious wardrobes still containing his mother’s dresses, furs and coats—an abundance that Elizabeth could scarcely imagine.

Still absorbed in that astonishing sight, she heard him speak again. “You and Georgiana may do whatever you wish with these garments, and with those at Pemberley. I assure you, these wardrobes will soon be just as full of your own clothes.”

Elizabeth looked about the rooms in wonder. Sunlight streamed through the high windows, enriching the walls’ faded rose colour. She ran her fingers over the soft velvet curtains, admiring their purplish red shade, and wondered what she could possibly wish to change in rooms so elegant. Lost in that extraordinary atmosphere, she momentarily forgot Darcy, only to remember him when he embraced her and gently guided her onto the bed. Instinctively, she wanted to flee, yet he whispered, “Stay, Elizabeth, I beg you! Do not run!” His lips moved from her neck to her bosom with a deliberate slowness that almost made her cry out. From time to time, he met her gaze as if seeking her acceptance of his caresses. His kisses grew deeper and more ardent until she gently pushed him away.