Page 39 of Lord Lonbourn’s Daughter
“Pemberley at last. I cannot remember a time when I have relished more the thought of being home—with my wife,” Darcy admitted.
“The grounds are magnificent! Could we stroll in the gardens before we venture inside? I long to stretch my legs,” Elizabeth begged.
“My thoughts exactly, and since I have something to show you, I am doubly pleased.”
After a swift introduction to the housekeeper and steward, who were waiting for them under the portico, the Darcys strolled down to the lake.
“I would have thought you would lead me to the formal gardens, but I must admit that I prefer the banks that are neither formal nor falsely adorned. I have never seen a place where natural beauty has been so little counteracted by an awkward taste,” Elizabeth praised.
Too late she noticed the contrite countenance of her husband.
They rounded a bend, and before them, a folly was being raised with a beautiful view over the lake.
Elizabeth bit her lip; she had not meant that nothing at all could be added to advantage.
The location was private and offered a respite from the sun.
“There used to be a stone bench here, which was my mother’s favourite.
I thought I might surprise you with a folly where you could rest and watch the swans.
We could name it after you. You deserve to have something here that is your own—something tangible and not ladled with ancient history.
You have made me want to be a better man, and for that I am forever grateful. ”
“Lady Elizabeth’s folly? It does have a certain ring to it and is certainly an apt description of its namesake, I am sure… Dear Fitzwilliam, I could not help but notice the look on your face, but I assure you that I love it. What a beautiful gesture to your wife!
“You are the best man I know, Fitzwilliam. Although your first impression left much wanting, I am glad to say that you improve upon further acquaintance. Yet you puzzle me exceedingly. I must know—what could have made you fall in love with a dowdy lady?”
Mr Darcy groaned and ran his hand across his face.
“Did you not pronounce that we should only remember the past as it gives us pleasure?”
“Yes, a good memory in cases like these is unpardonable. I shall remember it only this once, just to satisfy my curiosity.”
“I was enthralled by your eyes upon our introduction. I was humbled by your rebuke during dinner. Enslaved by your softness after we married, but love—love cannot be explained by worldly features. It is divine and impalpable.”
The twinkling in Elizabeth’s eyes was one he had come to recognise; he was about to be rewarded in the most pleasurable sense of the word.
“Perhaps we should return to the house?”
“Yes, I have yet to see my chamber…or yours.”
#
The change was subtle, but those who knew them well could sense a difference in Darcy and Lady Elizabeth’s relationship.
There had always been a unique connection between them, even when at odds, but they seemed to have become aware of it themselves by the time Lady Jane walked down the aisle on the arm of the Earl of Longbourn.
Colonel Fitzwilliam had an excellent view over the congregation and noticed the clandestine looks and covert touches exchanged between his cousin and his wife before his attention was arrested by his own lovely bride.
Darcy was still grave and taciturn, but he chose to behave so in close proximity to his wife during the breakfast following the wedding rather than hiding in his usual corner.
Lady Elizabeth had not changed at all but flitted about, exchanging a few words with each guest, assuring herself everyone was comfortable and had everything they needed. The only alteration being a husband following, one step behind at all times—a feature she seemed not to notice.
The colonel almost laughed aloud when Lady Elizabeth found an abandoned teacup, which she picked up and handed to her husband without even looking behind her.
She must have been abundantly aware she was never alone, although the surreptitious glances everyone she addressed sent over her shoulder might have given him away.
The look on Darcy’s face was priceless; the gentleman was not prepared to do the work of a servant.
Relief flooded his countenance when an embarrassed maid hastened to relieve him of his burden.
The incident spurred him to take the lead.
Darcy laced his wife’s hand around his arm and guided her in his direction.
The colonel schooled his expression into a contented neutral one, as he knew Darcy resented being laughed at.
Therefore, it was with surprise that he noticed Elizabeth was currently laughing at her husband.
One corner of Darcy’s mouth twitched in what might have become a smile if he had not possessed the renowned Darcy self-control.
Standing in front of him, he saw Lady Elizabeth’s delight falter a little.
Like with most people he had encountered after his brother’s commitment to Bedlam, it had taken him time to get used to the title of Mr Fitzwilliam.
He had resigned his commission as he was the guardian of his brother’s children.
He and Jane had already removed to Matlock before the wedding to raise his fatherless nephew and niece; the Earl of Matlock did not trust the viscountess with the endeavour.
He had better guide his thoughts away from the tragedy at Wingerworth; it was his wedding day, after all, postponed for three months out of respect for the Duke of Chesterfield’s death.
“Lady Elizabeth, you are glowing despite the questionable company of my dour cousin.” Darcy and Lady Elizabeth both blushed fervently, while the lady’s hand flew to her stomach, which was quite telling for an old perceptive soldier.
So that was how it was—a little rascal on the way.
What a blessing after a difficult year and a reasonable explanation as to why his cousin was vigilantly following his wife around the ballroom.
Darcy would be overbearing in such a circumstance, considering the losses he had suffered.
Would that he and Jane would be as fortunate too.
A little fair-haired girl with soft ringlets appeared in his mind.
His eyes sought her through the crowded din of the Matlock ballroom. She stood out as an angel amongst mere mortals. He gravitated towards her, his cousin and his wife completely forgotten.
#
The conversations at Wingerworth had affected Mr Darcy to such an extent that he offered to run for Derby in the next election.
To his surprise, the majority of the six hundred and fifty voters in the borough deemed him the most fit for the seat.
His purpose was that the eight children he would eventually father, and their grandchildren, would grow up in a safer environment.
Changing the British legal system and the watchmen’s operations were not tasks accomplished in a short amount of time.
Englishmen valued their freedom above all else, and new restrictions were frowned upon even when beneficial to society at large.
It would take Darcy years before the culmination of Peel’s Prison Act of 1823, where they, as a first step, classified the different crimes and standardised penalties.
Although the three words of a declaration of love occasionally slipped from Mr Darcy’s lips, the eloquence he had proved himself capable of on the night of their only quarrel never quite repeated itself.
Elizabeth found that by knowing him better, she could understand him better.
What he could not pronounce was in everything he did for her.
What she had believed to be condescension from a superior mind was quite the opposite—the protection of a love most ardently felt.
A love that encompassed everyone she loved as well as herself.
Which was proved when the childless Wickhams re-entered London society less than a year after they left.
The Earl of Longbourn never quite managed to discipline his youngest daughter, who was of a similar disposition to the wife he had lost. Fortunately, Wickham excelled as a man of leisure; no improper pride prohibited him from living off his father by marriage, and the earl did not mind the company.
Especially after Mary and Kitty chose to live with their sister at Mr Darcy’s insistence.
PS: For those of you who wondered what happened to the heir presumptive, Mr Collins married a sensible wife, Charlotte Collins née Lucas, who did not mind living in the ruined castle’s dower house, which was in a slightly better condition than the castle itself. It at least had a roof.
The End
[1] The hair fashion was short and more natural after the flour shortage in 1795 and the increase in wax taxes, but the Earl of Longbourn was an eccentric man and showed his disdain for fashions by wearing his queue.
[2] Deminoratio – Latin for injury/degradation
[3] St Giles, London was nicknamed ‘Holy Land’ or ‘Little Ireland’ after Irish Catholics sought escape from poverty in the slum.
[4] Rookery – criminal district.
[5] Carriage with a long forward boot with a mattress for extending the seat into a full-length bed.
[6] Blue ruin – a drink containing gin.
[7] Coldstream Tollbooth was, in addition to Gretna Green, a popular destination for Scottish clandestine marriages.