Page 45 of Moments Frozen in Time (Pride and Prejudice Variation)

DARCY

I t was nearly the end of January, and so far, I had still had no word of Elizabeth.

Between my men and me, it seemed as though we had searched the whole of the area between Gretna Green and Dumfries without learning anything about Elizabeth.

I wondered if her captors had realised what she had been doing and prevented her from speaking at any inns further north, but although a man had searched as far as Glasgow and Edinburgh, he had found no trace of her.

Each time I was tempted to grow despondent, I heard the voice of my mother encouraging me to keep searching.

On the last day of January, I received a letter in my room at the inn. I did not recognise the handwriting, and the lettering was crude, not what I would expect from any of my friends or acquaintances. I opened it, feeling more curious than anything else.

To my surprise, the note contained only a few words and a roughly drawn map. It simply said, “Elizabeth,” and then named a small village I had been to within the last week and some drawings that seemed to point to a cottage that was hidden in a forest .

It was too late for me to search that day, so I determined to go as soon as I was able the next day.

I started as soon as the sun began to rise, offering me enough light to make my way to the village mentioned in the letter.

By the time I reached there, I had enough light to follow the sketch and, a few hours later, found a cottage in a glen just as the map had indicated.

For a moment, I merely stood staring at the door.

I had barely eaten breakfast and had not stopped at all for lunch; instead, I had allowed my horse to rest as he needed it.

It suddenly occurred to me that I could be walking into a trap since I had not spoken to anyone of my plans for the day, other than Morris, and I had the map with me.

“It is too late now,” I murmured to myself, right before I knocked on the door.

A kindly-looking, older lady met me at the door and greeted me with a curt greeting. “How can I help ye?” she asked after a moment.

“Excuse me,” I said, remembering who I was and what I was doing. “Do you have a young lady staying here? A Miss Elizabeth Bennet?”

“Who be you?” the woman asked again.

“I am Fitzwilliam Darcy,” I said, straightening my shoulders. “She is my intended, and she was taken from me some weeks ago. I have been looking for her since she left me, and I have been led to believe she may be here.”

“Darcy,” she repeated, and for a moment, I thought she would close the door in my face. “Does the lady’s father know you are pursuing her? Did he send you here?”

“I have not spoken to that man in more than two months,” I informed her.

“The last thing I said to him was that I would marry his daughter, with or without his blessing. Then, I brought her youngest three sisters to my home in Derbyshire, in England, where I could protect them since their father seemed uninterested in doing so. ”

I was still not certain that she would let me in, but at that moment, it no longer mattered. For coming down the stairs behind her was Elizabeth, my Elizabeth.

“Elizabeth!” I cried, my voice rough with disbelief and relief, barely able to keep myself from pushing past the woman blocking the door. “Elizabeth, you are here—are you well?” My eyes darted over her, desperate to see for myself that she was whole, unharmed, real.

At the sound of my voice, Elizabeth looked up sharply—and then a radiant smile bloomed across her face. With a soft cry, she rushed down the last of the steps towards me.

The woman at the door finally stepped aside, but I barely registered her movement. I was already across the threshold, my sole focus on the woman before me—my Elizabeth. The world faded to nothing but her presence, and a heartbeat later, she was in my arms, solid and warm and real.

I do not know how long we stood that way, with her tightly embraced in my arms. We merely stood there, together, holding on to each other as long as it took to convince ourselves that the other was not a mirage.

“I love you, Elizabeth,” I breathed, the words escaping in a whisper that carried all the weight of the weeks I had spent searching, fearing, hoping. She looked up at me, her eyes wide with emotion—relief, joy, and something deeper still—and I knew I could not hold back.

Glancing about and seeing no one nearby, I bent my head and captured her lips in a kiss.

It was not chaste.

It was the culmination of every sleepless night I had spent imagining her lost to me forever in some cruel twist of fate. Every moment of despair when I feared I might never hear her voice again. Every prayer I had uttered when it seemed that all else had failed .

Her mouth met mine with equal urgency, and the world seemed to narrow to that single point of contact, where everything that had been broken suddenly felt whole again.

I pulled her closer, feeling the heat of her body pressed against mine, the soft tremble of her breath as our lips moved in perfect synchrony.

Her fingers curled against my coat, and I deepened the kiss, unable to get close enough.

After so much longing, I needed to remind myself that she was here—real, safe, and mine.

When at last I drew back, it was only by force of will. Her cheeks were flushed, her lips parted slightly, and her eyes—those bright, intelligent, maddening eyes—held a look that nearly undid me.

“I feared I would never find you,” I said, my voice thick with emotion. “But I would have searched the world ten times over. And I still will, if ever you are lost to me again, my dearest Elizabeth.”

She smiled up at me, her eyes shimmering with warmth and a touch of mischief.

“Well, that settles it, then,” she said softly, her arms still wrapped around my waist. “Since we are in Scotland, I shall declare us married—and I see no reason we must wait for any further formalities. You are mine, and nothing shall ever separate us again.”

I laughed—helplessly, joyfully. I could not have stopped myself if I tried.

Elizabeth was everything I had ever wished for, everything I had not even known I needed.

In that moment, with her in my arms, the long months we had spent apart faded into nothing.

All that mattered was that she was here, and she was mine.

I kissed her again.

It was midafternoon when I found Elizabeth, and as I had arrived on horseback, there was no way to bring her back to the inn with me that night.

Fortunately, the housekeeper extended a gracious invitation for me to stay the night.

She offered us two choices: to “marry” immediately by declaring ourselves husband and wife before witnesses or to remain in separate chambers and wait for a more formal ceremony.

Although every part of me longed to make Elizabeth wholly mine without delay, we agreed to wait.

We wished for a proper ceremony at a kirk once we returned to Dumfries—something that would leave no room for questions about its legality once we were back in England.

We had waited this long; a little longer would not matter if it meant our union would be indisputable.

That evening after dinner, a fire crackled gently in the hearth, casting a soft, flickering glow over the worn but tidy sitting room.

Elizabeth and I sat close together on the faded settee, our fingers curled around teacups, drawing what little warmth we could from them.

Outside, the wind howled through the trees, and I suspected we would wake to snow blanketing the ground.

The tea was weak, but neither of us minded.

After so many weeks apart, the comfort of one another’s presence was all we truly needed.

At Mrs. Mackenzie’s instruction, the servants had left us largely to ourselves following our reunion. I was grateful for their discretion—Elizabeth and I had much to say to each other.

“I suppose,” I began, glancing over at her where she sat snuggled beside me, “you should know what happened in Meryton after… after you left.”

Her eyes remained fixed on the flames, but she nodded slightly at my words. “I have wondered even though I have feared the answers. How did you know where to find me?”

I gave a low hum of agreement before telling her of how Miss Lydia had learnt about Elizabeth’s destination through eavesdropping and my attempts to gather information.

Finally, I told her what happened at the ball and my subsequent actions regarding Elizabeth’s other sisters.

“When I confronted her, Miss Bingley collapsed, and since then, she has refused to speak to anyone. She lies in bed, mute and motionless—or so they claim. ”

Elizabeth turned to me then, one brow lifted. “You doubt the truth of it?”

“I do,” I said frankly. “She may be truly ill, but it seems convenient that she woke but cannot speak or communicate in any way. The doctors say it is apoplexy, and I suppose we will one day discover for ourselves whether it is illness or obstinacy. Still, I suspect the latter. Miss Bennet has been visiting her regularly hoping to gain information.”

Elizabeth’s expression darkened. “I would not be surprised if she is merely pretending. She hoped to sink my reputation by ensuring I stayed away for more than nine months.”

I reached for her free hand, threading my fingers through hers.

“Bingley writes to me on occasion—his letters slowly find their way north. Through your sister’s efforts, he has kept me somewhat informed about what has happened in Meryton.

It seems both the Bennet and Bingley families have been largely shunned in Meryton, especially after the news about your father so easily relinquishing his guardianship to me became known.

Yet your sister remains welcome amongst friends and neighbours. ”

“As it should be,” Elizabeth replied quietly. “Jane deserves only kindness. I hate that she felt it necessary to remain behind at Longbourn.”

“Your other sisters are now at Pemberley,” I added. “With Georgiana. It seems your younger sisters have taken a great liking to her, and I was glad they had one another whilst I was searching for you.”

Elizabeth gave a soft laugh, and I felt the weight in my chest ease for the first time in weeks.

“I worried,” she confessed. “Not so much about Jane, but about Mary and Kitty—and especially Lydia. We had only just begun to guide them, and I feared they might be lost without that influence. Mary would have done her best to carry on, but I know too well the sway Mama holds over the younger girls. ”

“Mrs. Annesley—my sister’s companion—has taken to the task with enthusiasm,” I said gently. “She is quite pleased to have three more young ladies to instruct, and I daresay Pemberley has not been this lively in years.”

Elizabeth smiled faintly and gave my hand a grateful squeeze, her gaze drifting back to the fire.

“I am so thankful that you found me—and that we are here together this evening,” she whispered.

Her voice caught slightly as she turned towards me and pressed her face into the folds of my cravat.

“I never doubted that you would keep searching, but I feared it would prove too difficult. I realised quickly how isolated this place was, and the crofters… they do not speak easily to strangers.”

“I am grateful as well,” I murmured, lifting her hand to my lips and pressing a kiss to her knuckles.

We continued talking well into the night. Elizabeth asked a few questions about my weeks of searching and told me how she had spent her days. For the most part, however, we just sat together, basking in each other’s presence.

When the fire began to waver, I took out my pocket watch, discovering the late hour.

“My love,” I whispered, for Elizabeth was now sleepily snuggling into my side. “You will sleep better in your bed. Tomorrow, we will find our way back to the inn where I have been staying, but if we cannot, we will seek out the village minister and have him marry us.”

Elizabeth murmured something in response but did not fully wake. Smiling at her, I carefully stood before lifting her in my arms and carrying her into the hall.

Mrs. Mackenzie found me in the upstairs passageway. Seeing the bundle in my arms, she opened the door to Elizabeth’s room, allowing me to set her upon her bed before she shooed me out of the room so she could help Elizabeth undress in preparation for sleep .

Before I left the room, she spoke to me quietly.

“The storm’ll be rollin’ in soon, and I dinna reckon the pair o’ ye’ll be leavin’ for a few days yet.

I’ll send word in the mornin’, see if the good reverend might come up this way to perform the ceremony.

Yer Elizabeth’s a fine lass—a guid-hearted soul. I’ll be sad tae see her go, I will.”

Although I was not thrilled about the idea of a storm, I could only be happy that if I had to weather it, at least I would have Elizabeth by my side.

My valet would worry when I did not return, but he would realise that I would not attempt to travel if the storm was as bad as Mrs. Mackenzie seemed to think.