Page 29 of Searching for Elizabeth (A Pride and Prejudice Variation)

—the next day—

Fitzwilliam Darcy and Elizabeth Bennet were married in a ceremony at the church in Meryton.

Elizabeth’s sister Mary stood up with her, and Darcy’s cousin Richard with him. Elizabeth’s beloved Uncle Edward walked her down the aisle as his wife and children sat in the front row with Elizabeth’s other sisters. The Phillips and Fitzwilliam families attended, along with Georgiana Darcy. Many of the families from neighboring estates came, and almost all of Longbourn’s and Netherfield Park’s tenants attended as well. Elizabeth’s friend Charlotte Lucas was there, although that lady’s betrothed, Mr. Collins, did not travel from Kent for the ceremony. Darcy had invited Bingley, but he had responded with his regrets.

Elizabeth’s parents sat in the very back of the church. Few of their neighbors and former friends and none of their tenants made any effort to speak to them. They were not fully shunned, but they were far from honored as is usual for the parents of the bride.

The Longbourn servants joined with congratulations once the crowd gathered at Netherfield for the wedding breakfast. Darcy had worked with Mrs. Hill to create a menu that would especially please Elizabeth. Mrs. Bennet sniffed and complained, just as the first guests arrived at the manor house, saying that she should have been the one making decisions on the event, but the look Darcy leveled on her in response stopped that whine and prevented any others.

Even Mr. Bennet was grateful to Darcy for doing so.

When it got close to noon, Elizabeth and Darcy said their goodbyes and their thanks to Mr. and Mrs. Hill, Mary Bennet, and Bernie Millcroft. They climbed into Darcy’s comfortable and spacious carriage.

Those who knew Elizabeth and Darcy would have been surprised if they ever found out exactly how the couple spent the four-hour ride to London. Elizabeth was a lady and an innocent, and Darcy’s university nickname, “the Monk,”

indicated that he was always very proper, never given to excess. Some said that he did not know how to enjoy life.

But, it turned out, with Elizabeth by his side, and within the relative privacy of a carriage with curtains drawn, Darcy very much did know how to enjoy himself and bring joy to his wife.

At one point, Darcy consulted his pocketwatch (once he located his pocket!) and peeked out of the window to check for familiar landmarks. He said, “Elizabeth, we will reach Darcy House in about twenty minutes.”

He then proceeded to straighten his clothing, brush off his hat, and re-tie his cravat. His bride fussed even more, attempting to restore her complex hairdo before giving up and merely creating a simple chignon.

She felt a bit mortified to be meeting the servants with her hair less than perfect, but Darcy assured her that she looked lovely. He did not mention that her lips were a bit swollen and darker pink than usual, and he certainly did not mention the mark he had accidentally left on her neck.

“Yes,”

Elizabeth said, “I suppose that all will be well.”

“Because,”

said Darcy, “Will wills it that all will be well.”

Elizabeth shot him a fond glance.

“Do you know what I want to do when we first-first arrive?”

she asked.

Darcy bit his lip. It was asking too much that she was thinking of what he was thinking. After all, she was still a maiden, still innocent of the many different extensions and variations on their in-carriage activity that remained yet unexplored. He asked, “What do you want to do when we first-first arrive?”

“I want to see if there is a letter from Mr. Briggs. I did what you suggested and gave him your London address, and I think there might be an acceptance letter waiting for me.”

Darcy laughed.

“I should have known, Madam Authoress, that it would have been your Tales, not my tails, that were on your mind.”

Elizabeth’s eyes danced and sparkled.

“Well, you look very nice in your tailcoat, husband, and my Tales were quite emphatically not on my mind half an hour ago, but you interrupted those thoughts with all your propriety.”

At that moment, the carriage stopped. A footman opened the door and put down the step, and Darcy exited before reaching in for Elizabeth’s hand.

Elizabeth maintained her composure despite the imposing size of the four-story building. Footmen opened the two lustrous mahogany doors, and she saw for the first time the man and woman who would be most important for her eventual success as mistress of Darcy House. Darcy introduced Mr. Shelton, the butler, and Mrs. White, the housekeeper, and he addressed the other servants flanking them, “I am thrilled to introduce you to your new mistress, Mrs. Fitzwilliam Darcy. She is a wonder, with a list of accomplishments quite singular amongst ladies, and I hope that some of you will eventually be privy to highlights from that list. But for now, let me beg of you that you will serve her as promptly and loyally as you have always served me.”

Elizabeth blushed, greeted the staff with friendly smiles and pretty words, and then emitted a charming bell-like laugh as Darcy swept her up into his arms and carried her up the stairs to her suite. He called over his shoulder, “Shelton, has there been any post for my bride in the past few days?”

Mr. Shelton looked unaccustomed to calling loudly in the house, but he raised his voice enough to be heard: “Yes, sir, it is in the master-suite sitting room.”

Elizabeth laughed again, but a low, pleased sound that only Darcy could hear.

“You remembered what I wanted to do first-first!”

“I did.”

He had arrived at his new bride’s suite, and he was pleased to personally show her the bedroom, the water closet, the dressing room with a perfectly enormous tub, and a sitting room, which was connected to his own dressing room, water closet, and bedroom. He also introduced Elizabeth to her new lady’s maid, Pearson.

“I wonder if second-second, we might take a bath,”

Darcy lightly suggested as Elizabeth fell upon her expected letter.

“There is room for two in your tub,”

he whispered in her ear, and she felt his words vibrate into her, down to her core.

“But it will take quite a while to fill, so I should give the order ahead of time.”

“Oh, yes, that sounds lovely,”

Elizabeth said. She managed to look very eager and very shy at the same time.

A short while later, she crowed: “William, Mr. Briggs accepted my manuscript! I will soon have another published book!”

“I had no doubt that Mr. Briggs would want it,”

Darcy calmly opined.

“But you have not even read that one, yet,”

Elizabeth replied. She scrunched her nose.

“If you tell me that Tales from the Hedgerows is good before you have even read it, then how am I to believe anything you have said about my writings that you actually have read.”

“Oh, my darling girl,”

Darcy laughed.

“First, I never said that it was good; I said that Mr. Briggs would want to publish it.”

He went on, “Naturally, the fact that your previously published books and essays are all very well written and a pleasure to read — that fact means nothing, and of course I assume that this latest work is quite boring, rife with errors of every kind, and overall quite dreadful. However, given the commercial successes Mortimer Press has had with all of your other publications, I was justified in being quite certain that they would publish just about anything you cared to submit.”

Elizabeth laughed, too, archly protesting, “I say, Mr. Darcy, you need not be quite so positive about everything pertaining to a field in which you know little. Unlike you, I have read the Hedgerows volume, and I must say that it only borders on being boring; it is merely chock-full of errors, not rife with errors; furthermore, only five sorts of errors are to be found within the pages, which as you know is not even a fifth of every kind of error; and overall the book is merely terrible, not dreadful. What say you now, sir?”

Darcy had seen a signal from a footman who was passing the open door to the mistress’s dressing room, and he told Elizabeth, “I say, let us bathe!”

Elizabeth went alone into the dressing room, and her maid helped her out of her clothing and into the tub.

“I am putting your towels here, madam,”

Pearson said.

“Would you like some scented oil, or a wash ball? Or both?”

“Just the wash ball, thank you. And then you can go.”

Elizabeth rubbed the ball with her hands to release some of the soap into the water. As she had hoped, the water became more cloudy. She was positive that her beloved husband wished to join her—

As expected, there was a soft knock on the door.

“May I come in?”

Darcy asked.

“Yes, please.”

“Yes, I am very pleased,”

he said as he removed his robe and quickly got into the tub. Elizabeth’s eyes went wide as she glimpsed a body part that, when she had seen it on a life-size statue, looked much, much smaller. She looked alarmed, but Darcy just chuckled and said, “Remember, the part of your body that you are now certain is too small can enlarge enough for a baby to pass through.”

He held out his hands to show the rough dimensions of a newborn.

“So…definitely not too small.”

“Oh, Will, I feel ridiculous for not thinking about that. And I am blushing too much. I promise you, I will not go entirely missish on you!”

“Your courage always rises at every attempt to intimidate you,”

Darcy reminded her.

Elizabeth giggled.

“Well, in this case, you are not attempting to intimidate me, although you may eventually attempt to impale me, and you are the one rising, not me!”

Darcy loved her wit even more when they were sitting together in a beautiful copper bathtub. He gently washed Elizabeth, using the ball and a soft cloth, and he intrigued her with some touches in regions where she had never previously been touched, and the more he did all of that, the less ridiculous she felt, although the blushing continued apace. By the time the couple had used the fluffy towels to dry one another and had reached the bed in the next room, Elizabeth felt that she needed more of something—what she did not know—and the dialogue between the two became less erudite and more repetitive.

“Right there, right there.”

“Please, more, please, please.”

“Yes, yes.” “Oh, oh, oh, ohhhhh.”

And even though this was a couple who had been drawn together over their mutual love of intellectual debate and witty repartee, that night they had a tremendous time despite the lack of four-syllable words.