Page 53 of Beyond Pride, Past Prejudice

“Could you let me ask first if you would be my wife?” he enquired, amused, failing to grasp the meaning of her words or mistaking them for the embarrassment of a maiden slowly surrendering her innocence.

“Darcy! How can you ask me to marry you?” she cried, suddenly furious. “And Anne de Bourgh?”

“Anne? What has Anne to do with us?”

“Lady Catherine—” she began but then stopped, for in that instant, they both understood: her ladyship had lied.

A great sigh of relief escaped her, and she began to cry. He, stricken, tried to wipe away her tears, for he had never seen them before; perhaps he had even believed that Elizabeth Bennet did not know how to weep.

“My dearest,” he murmured, frightened. “My love do not cry, I beg you. I am engaged to no one…though perhaps to you…if you will have me…”

And she, still unable to speak, nodded with desperation and love, waiting for him to kiss her again—this time, no fears or doubts troubling her heart.

∞∞∞

Elizabeth and Darcy walked slowly back to her aunt and uncle, who held hands as though bracing themselves for news, uncertain whether it would be good or ill.

Yet even from afar, the youngsters’ happiness was plain to see, and Mr and Mrs Gardiner breathed in relief.

There was no need for words because their joy was apparent.

Although their niece was about to become the mistress of Pemberley on that beautiful summer day, the only thing that truly mattered was love.

“Thank you!” Darcy said, shaking Mr Gardiner’s hand.

“Why are you thanking them?” Elizabeth wanted to know, already glowing in that mist that any woman in love carries about her.

“Because they brought you to Derbyshire…to me.”

“So that engagement to Miss de Bourgh was a…fantasy?” Mrs Gardiner asked graciously, still worried for her niece.

“Entirely,” answered Darcy with a short bow in Mrs Gardiner’s direction, thanking her this time for her delicacy. Lady Catherine had done something horrible, yet she was still his aunt.

“Finally, all’s well that ends well,” Darcy said, and they tacitly agreed that the previous day’s visit was forever forgotten and forgiven.

Meanwhile, Darcy’s carriage arrived, and they embarked once again, this time in the opposite direction—to Pemberley.

∞∞∞

They paused for a moment to admire Pemberley from the top of the hill, just as Elizabeth had wished from the instant the carriage began to move.

At the sight of the estate, spreading before them in quiet majesty, she took a deep breath, the sign of her strong emotions.

“It is your home,” Darcy murmured in her ear, and her joy shifted into that strange, unknown trembling she had first known in the woods beneath his kiss.

As for a reason for her turmoil, she no longer knew whether it was the man beside her or the life that awaited her, but it did not matter any longer; all that was happening contributed to her happiness—the beautiful house, the joyful expression on his face, the hand that found hers and lifted it to his lips as though they were the only souls in the world.

Everything merged together, and a symphony of sensation arose in her, a stir within her body, for being his wife meant also becoming the mistress of Pemberley.

But the moment did not last long, for two tiny figures moved restlessly on the front steps of the house, waving to them with unmistakable eagerness.

“Oh, good heavens!” exclaimed Darcy. “It is Georgiana and Anne—they are waiting for us.”

Indeed, they had barely stepped down from the carriage when Georgiana ran to them and embraced Elizabeth with all the warmth and joy of a perfect welcome. Anne followed more shyly but just as delightedly.

“I should like to speak to Miss Darcy and Miss de Bourgh for a moment,” Elizabeth said, and Darcy turned to the Gardiners, ready to accompany them while the young ladies disappeared into the house.

In the entrance hall, Elizabeth stopped, spellbound, forgetting for a few seconds why she had asked to speak to the girls alone.

“How beautiful,” she whispered, and Georgiana blushed with pleasure at Elizabeth’s emotion.

She had longed for this intelligent, sensitive, and beautiful woman to become her brother’s wife and restore the spirit of joy and gentleness to Pemberley that she had only heard about—her mother had died when she was just a child, taking with her a significant part of the elation that was, in her time, Pemberley’s emblem.

“I wish to speak to you both,” Elizabeth said, “and then you must show me the house—all of it.”

But Georgiana shook her head gently, smiling.

“That will be Fitzwilliam’s pleasure. He must be the one to show you the house.”

Surprised and grateful, Elizabeth caressed her arm, for truly it was he who should show her the house, and his sister accepted that fact with a light heart and a radiant smile—a sign that she welcomed the great change soon to come to the Darcy family.

“I asked you here…” Elizabeth began as they entered the drawing-room. Still, again, she paused to take in the beauty of the room, feeling that, if she closed her eyes, she could always see herself here—surrounded by what would become her family, in days, in months, in years…

“You asked us…?” Georgiana prompted.

Elizabeth gave a slight nod, drawing herself back to the moment.

“I asked you,” she said to Georgiana, “because I wish to tell you that I shall be Mr Darcy’s wife and your faithful sister—and you will see, my sisters will be just as pleased as I am that there will be six of us now, not five.”

Georgiana embraced her without a word. For some time, she had been haunted by a terrible dream—Lady Olivia arriving as the mistress of Pemberley—but that was only a dream. The reality was this woman—this lady—whom she already loved and who would bring happiness to them all.

“There is one more thing…” Elizabeth said and hesitated, looking towards Anne, who blushed deeply, afraid that Miss Elizabeth might hold her mother’s schemes against her.

“I wish to know whether Miss de Bourgh—”

“Anne,” whispered the young woman, still flushed.

“Anne,” Elizabeth continued, “ever believed Mr Darcy was promised to her—”

“No!” cried Anne with sudden conviction, her cheeks still red but her voice sure.

“No, that was entirely my mother’s plan.

Fitzwilliam is my cousin, and I have never seen him in any other light.

On the contrary, I was always terrified that she might succeed—and I might one day wake up betrothed to him. ”

Only then did Elizabeth breathe freely. Not long after, with Darcy at her side, she opened every door in the house, eager to see it all—every room, every hall, the library, the ballroom, the music room, the family apartments.

All the rooms surrendered to her fervent desire to feel at home in the heart and in the house of the man next to her.

∞∞∞

Lady Catherine descended to meet them in the drawing-room only shortly before dinner.

She entered with the majesty of a queen.

Yet, the sight of Elizabeth and her family clearly displeased her, for she seated herself in an armchair without making the slightest effort to be introduced to those she did not know.

Darcy, however, was not to be intimidated. He calmly named his guests—Mr and Mrs Gardiner—and gestured for them to sit, for no one, save a monarch, had the right to receive bows and curtsies while seated.

“We shall leave tomorrow,” she declared to her daughter as though they were alone. But to everyone’s astonishment, the usually timid Miss Anne de Bourgh rose and spoke clearly, saying she had no intention of departing, for Fitzwilliam had invited her to spend the summer with them at Pemberley.

“We will leave!” Lady Catherine cried, beside herself. “This is not a place where I shall permit you to stay!”

Just when all believed Anne had surrendered to her mother’s command, she spoke again—and this time, her voice was entirely different: calm, steady, more resolute than anyone had ever heard it.

“Mother, I am twenty-six years old. I do not need your permission to live my life as I wish.”

Lady Catherine stood, furiously angry, and swept from the room.

Darcy gave the butler quiet instructions to have her dinner sent to her chambers, making it clear that they did not want her to participate in the meal even if she changed her mind.

Then he turned back to those he already considered his family and invited them to dinner with a smile.