Page 9 of Darcy’s Redemption (Holidays with Darcy and Elizabeth)

W hen Darcy arrived in Hertfordshire a little more than a se’nnight after his proposal had been accepted, Mr. Bennet was still astonished by how quickly his favourite daughter had changed her mind about the man. Her letters, starting with the one immediately after Easter, had revealed her change of heart towards the gentleman, but Mr. Bennet was still surprised when he arrived and formally requested her hand in marriage just a fortnight after that date.

Mrs. Bennet, however, was far more accepting of the situation. Now that Mr. Wickham had been exposed as a rake and a scoundrel, she easily reconciled herself to the idea that Mr. Darcy had been misunderstood all along. While she still hoped that Mr. Bingley would return to Jane, Darcy’s arrival and subsequent engagement to her least favourite daughter mollified her somewhat.

The letter from Elizabeth that Darcy carried to her father eased the way, at least to some extent. As was his custom, Mr. Bennet attempted to amuse himself at Darcy’s expense with his sardonic wit. However, he soon discovered that Darcy was too intelligent—and too self-possessed—to serve as a suitable target for his humour. Although he was somewhat reluctant, Mr. Bennet consented to Darcy’s suit; however, he objected to their marrying at the end of May, as this would give him only one month with his daughter. The promise of free access to Darcy’s library made him finally stop his teasing and acquiesce to the marriage.

Mrs. Bennet was hardly sanguine at the idea of a wedding ceremony in a little over a month, but Darcy promised to assist in whatever way he might. The idea that he would obtain an appointment for Elizabeth with one of the finest modistes in London appeased her, and by the time he left Longbourn, he felt he had navigated through his interactions with both of Elizabeth’s parents well enough. Her father had granted his blessing and consent, the banns would be read beginning the following Sunday, at which point Elizabeth would be home. With luck, Darcy would soon find a place to stay in Hertfordshire so he, along with his sister and other family members, could remain nearby until the wedding.

The next month was a hectic one for Darcy and the Bennet family as they prepared for the ceremony. Georgiana returned to London with her brother, and accompanied Elizabeth to the modiste along with Elizabeth’s sister and aunt. After just a few days in town, Georgiana accompanied the ladies to Hertfordshire in Darcy’s carriage while he rode alongside.

It had not taken Darcy long to find a nearby estate to lease. He briefly considered asking Bingley to allow him the use of Netherfield Park, but hesitated to inform his friend of his plans. After further discussion with Elizabeth, he decided against it when he discovered that Purvis Lodge was available for occupancy at once. While Mrs. Bennet complained that “the attics were dreadful,” this did not bother Darcy since he would not be there long enough to be concerned about the attics.

At times, the month seemed to last far longer than it ought to have, but it passed quickly enough in reality. Elizabeth tolerated her mother’s exuberance well, being accustomed to it, although she sought to protect Darcy and Georgiana from it as often as she could. Soon, the wedding day arrived, and Elizabeth met Darcy at the altar where each pledged their love to the other in front of their friends and family. To their great delight, Bishop Baines had agreed to officiate the ceremony, which felt fitting to the pair.

Happy was Mrs. Bennet on the day her least favourite daughter married.

Ecstatic was the newly minted Mrs. Elizabeth Darcy when she and her husband departed in their carriage for their wedding trip. Her husband had not informed her of their final location, but she knew he had made arrangements for comfortable and, more importantly, private, lodgings for them while they travelled. She would miss her sisters, particularly her dearest sister Jane, but Jane and Mary were to travel to Pemberley with Georgiana where they would spend the summer together.

Kitty and Lydia had begged to be included, but soon had given up on their insistence when Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner invited them to travel north with them in July. The Gardiner children would accompany them, and Darcy had offered the use of a second carriage to make the journey more comfortable. Elizabeth seconded this and asked the entire party to join them at Pemberley for a portion of their trip .

The Gardiners gratefully accepted the offerings; only Mrs. Bennet seemed a little put out because they had arranged everything without her assistance. Likewise, she disliked not being included, but when reminded of her dislike of travel, finally accepted that she would not like to make the journey if it required her to sit in a carriage for days on end.

Of the four sisters who travelled to Pemberley that summer, only two returned at the end of it. Mary and Georgiana formed a friendship almost as close as the one that existed between Elizabeth and Jane, and they both remained at Pemberley until they married. Even when they married, they wed brothers, and remained in close proximity all their lives. Georgiana married the elder, a viscount, while Mary married the second son, who inherited an estate only ten miles from the family’s primary estate near Chesterfield. Even their children came near together, and they each had a boy and a girl within their first few years of marriage.

Although she did not marry that summer, Jane found a husband while at Pemberley. At one of the first events hosted by the new Mrs. Darcy, she met Mr. Andrew Livesay, a friend of Darcy’s from his university days. Mr. Livesay, who resided at his ancestral estate in Lancashire, was a few months older than Darcy but had yet to inherit. Due to a scandal involving a rather substantial gambling debt and rumours regarding his habits with women, Livesay’s reputation in town had suffered in the years since leaving university. However, from nearly the moment he met Jane, he became determined to win her and do whatever it took to convince her to accept him.

At his request, he was permitted to extend his stay at Pemberley well beyond the fortnight for which he had initially been invited. He courted Jane earnestly, yet she refused to accept his suit outright given his reputation. Instead, she agreed to a courtship on the condition that he prove himself constant. As he could not remain at Pemberley indefinitely, they maintained their acquaintance through letters, with Mr. Livesay writing to Darcy, fully aware that his words would be shared with Jane. Darcy, in turn, allowed Jane to read his friend’s letters, as had been Livesay’s intention all along. Over the autumn and winter, their correspondence deepened their understanding of one another, with Jane often including a few lines in reply.

When the Darcys went to town for the following Season, Jane accompanied them. There, she met Mr. Livesay once again, and after observing his conduct for a time, finally accepted his proposal. She had insisted upon this period of waiting, to determine that he should not fall back into his bad habits when surrounded by temptation. He proved faithful, and in May—one year after the Darcys’ wedding—Jane became his wife.

Unlike their elder two sisters, Kitty and Lydia returned south with the Gardiners when they departed. Their time at Pemberley had left a lasting impression—especially on Kitty. During her stay, she had become acquainted with the rector of Kympton and quickly believed herself to be in love. The rector, however, hesitated to offer for her, concerned that she was too young and too flighty to manage the responsibilities of a parson’s wife.

After speaking with Darcy, he sought an opportunity to talk with Kitty under Elizabeth’s chaperonage. With kindness and sincerity, he encouraged her to take time to mature, learn from her elder sisters, and develop the steadiness required for such a role. Though disappointed, Kitty heeded his advice. Over the next few years, she grew in both confidence and sensibility, gradually distancing herself from Lydia’s more reckless influence.

When she and the rector met again several years later, their feelings had not faded. Now possessing a newfound poise and sense of purpose, Kitty quickly won his regard, and he proposed. Their marriage proved to be long and happy, blessed with several children.

Lydia, on the other hand, was by far the most difficult Bennet for whom to find a suitable husband, as she remained adamant that she would marry only a soldier. Unlike Kitty, she had learned little from their time at Pemberley. Only her connection to the Darcys prevented her from making the worst of mistakes. After Lydia embarrassed even the battle-hardened Colonel Fitzwilliam with her shameless pursuit of him, Darcy decided to intervene. Sitting her down, he spoke to her with the gravity the situation required, impressing upon her some much-needed truths.

At nineteen and the only Bennet daughter still at home, Lydia found herself in a precarious situation. Despite Darcy’s warnings, she believed that an officer from the newest militia encampment in Meryton was serious when he promised marriage in exchange for her virtue. A few months later, when she realised she was carrying his child, the officer had already left the area without a trace.

Heartbroken, she wrote to Lizzy, expecting that Darcy would come and force the man to marry her.

Darcy did come—but not in the way Lydia had imagined. Instead of chasing after the officer in Brighton, he presented her with two options. She could travel to Scotland to stay at his estate near Aberdeen—a journey that would require a sea voyage—or she could marry a stranger. An acquaintance of Darcy’s cousin had recently lost his wife and was in need of someone to care for his two-year-old son before departing for the Americas. The marriage would provide Lydia with protection and respectability while ensuring the man had a wife to care for his child without diverting the funds he needed to establish his business in Boston.

Faced with few alternatives, Lydia accepted the second option. Within a fortnight, she was married and standing aboard a ship in Portsmouth, preparing to depart for the New World. Briefly, she indulged in self-pity, lamenting that none of her family had come to see her off. But then she recalled Darcy’s harsh words and, for the first time, admitted to herself that she was responsible for her predicament. Still, she consoled herself with the thought that her new husband was rather handsome. While he was not as wealthy as Darcy or even Jane’s husband, he was more successful than Kitty’s. That, she decided, was triumph enough.

Their marriage was eventually consummated. After Lydia gave birth to a little girl, she went on to have two more children with her husband. They were happy enough, she supposed, and kept in contact with her mother and sisters only through infrequent letters.

WHAT ABOUT OUR DEAR COUPLE?

As one might expect of two people so deeply in love, they lived happily ever after. That is not to say they never faced challenges—two such passionate individuals could hardly live in perfect harmony at all times. Yet, perhaps their marriage was all the stronger for it, as their reconciliations surely led to at least two of their five children.

The first came several months before Jane’s wedding, not long after they had travelled to town for the Season the spring after they married.

While Elizabeth had suspected she was with child, she had decided to wait until she felt the quickening to inform her husband of the blessed event. This occurred just days after arriving at Darcy House and in the midst of the various appointments with the modiste to ensure they would all be well dressed for the balls and parties they were obligated to attend.

When Elizabeth first told him, he was delighted by the news, but the declaration that followed shocked Elizabeth. “We must return to Pemberley at once,” he said, after releasing her from his embrace.

Elizabeth, seated comfortably on the settee, arched a brow. “At once? I have only just unpacked my trunk. We were to spend the season in town. I have no desire to repack only to spend another three or four days in the carriage.”

“This is no jest, Elizabeth,” he said firmly. “You must have fresh air, rest, and?—”

“—the company of sheep instead of my family?” she teased, but at the dark look he gave her, she sighed. “Fitzwilliam, truly, I am well. My mother carried five children without difficulty, and hundreds of children are born in town on a daily basis in far worse conditions. Are you truly so worried?”

“You are my wife, and I would have you take every precaution,” Darcy protested. “I cannot imagine losing you to any of the illnesses that are rampant in town. Pemberley is the best place for you right now.”

“And Jane?” she challenged. “Would you have me leave her in the midst of her courtship? She has been separated from Mr. Livesay for months. They were to court openly so she might have a chance to learn more of him.”

His jaw tightened, and for a moment, she thought he might insist, but then he exhaled slowly. “You would deny me the chance to care for you?”

Elizabeth softened, reaching for his hand. “I would never deny you that. But must it be in Derbyshire? Can we not find a compromise?”

It was not their first argument, nor would it be their last, but both had taken to heart the advice given to them before their wedding. Bishop Baines had reminded them in the marriage ceremony to heed Paul’s words in Ephesians: Be ye angry, and sin not: let not the sun go down upon your wrath. Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner had offered similar counsel, and the Darcys had tried to abide by it.

Thus, as the night wore on and neither would yield entirely, a solution was reached in the early hours of the morning. Darcy had heard from Mr. Phillips recently, who told him that Netherfield Park was newly available for lease, and so they would divide their time that spring between Hertfordshire and London.

Elizabeth remained unconvinced that the air in Meryton was any fresher than in town, but she could not deny that she enjoyed the frequent opportunity to escape the bustling city—and the satisfaction of knowing she had, in part, won the argument .

Bennet Alasdair Darcy was born at Pemberley in the autumn, following the longstanding tradition of the Darcy family in naming their heirs after his mother’s family name. Bishop Baines turned down the Darcys’ request that he serve as the boy’s godfather, claiming he was too old for the honour, but still often sent gifts for the child and visited the family at Darcy House and Pemberley as often as he could, acting like a substitute grandfather in place of George Darcy.

At the celebration of the child’s christening, which Bishop Baines attended, Elizabeth asked him why he had come to Kent that Easter.

“I cannot state exactly what it was, my dear Mrs. Darcy,” the bishop had replied after a moment of reflection. “Something told me that I was needed. Being a member of the clergy for so long, I am quite used to these sorts of leadings, and since it was not far, made the arrangement to travel directly to Hunsford. It had already been mentioned to me that the new rector there, your cousin, needed some—direction, shall we say? It was a simple enough matter, and I am glad I visited.”

“We were grateful as well,” Elizabeth replied. “I was holding onto my resentment tightly, and while I cannot speak for my husband, I feel almost certain his pride would have caused him to muddle it, leading to months or years of unhappiness for us both. I know now that he is perfectly suited to me, although I did not realise it at the time.”

Bishop Baines laughed at this. When Darcy made their way to the pair, he enquired about what made the elder man laugh, and the conversation was repeated in part.

“Yes,” Darcy replied, wrapping an arm around his wife, “we are very grateful. I was far too worried about material objections and had forgotten much of my father’s teachings. Elizabeth has quite the temper and had I said to her what I had been thinking when I arrived in Kent, she would have rightfully been angry with me. I think you helped us avoid many harsh words between us.”

Elizabeth smiled up at her husband, a smile that showed everyone who saw it how much she loved him now. Observing this, the bishop smiled, glad that he had been the tool to bring his godson happiness.

After Bennet came Anne Elizabeth, Richard Thomas, William Alexander, and finally, Beatrice Margaret. The couple had debated at length over Beatrice’s name, but when Darcy recalled the moment of his proposal, and how frequently he used Benedick’s words in their marriage, he found it perfectly fitting. Their youngest daughter not only took after her mother but also lived up to her namesake, leading all the men in her life on a merry dance.

In the many years of their marriage, they did occasionally return to their secret garden at Rosings though they never learned the story of how it came to be. There was a vague rumour that it had been built by some far-flung relative of Sir Lewis to commemorate a lost love, but that did not explain why it was so carefully tended. That mystery remained, but some suspected that Sir Lewis had paid a tenant a substantial honorarium to ensure it’s upkeep.

However, in honour of its place in the courtship of Elizabeth and Darcy, not long after their wedding, Darcy had one built at Pemberley. It was at some distance from the manor itself, for it was intended as a private spot for the couple to get away from their responsibility and remember what drew them to each other. Not long after their return to Pemberley after Jane’s wedding, Darcy took Elizabeth in a ride in a cart, for he had become increasingly protective of her the closer she came to her confinement, and brought her to the spot where the garden had been built.

“It is perfect, Fitzwilliam,” Elizabeth said when he showed it to her. “So like the one at Rosings but entirely our own. I will enjoy spending time here with you often.”

“It is for us alone, and for the guests that we invite here,” he whispered, his breath fanning her ear causing her to shiver slightly in response. “Once this little one is born,” he began, bringing his hand around her to lay protectively on her abdomen, which seemed to be growing each day, “we will bring him or her from time to time, but I intended this for us, my love. There is a key for the door. You and I will each have one, as will the head gardener, since it will be his responsibility to care for what is within. But no others will be permitted here without invitation.”

“Oh, really?” she asked, turning in his arms and arching her brow in the way that he loved. “So we will not be interrupted here at all?”

When he shook his head, she rose onto her tiptoes and kissed him, sliding her hands around the back of his head to draw him closer. Many hours passed before they returned to the manor house, and after that day, whenever they visited their little garden, they always brought a blanket and a picnic lunch. When the weather was warm enough—and occasionally when it was not—they frequently lost themselves in the privacy of their secluded retreat. Darcy remained ever grateful for the garden at Rosings that had brought them together and for the chance he had been given that Easter to earn redemption.