Page 58 of Some Natural Importance (Pride, Prejudice and Romance #3)
“Mr Bennet did not prepare so well, until Mr Darcy came to Longbourn.” Mrs Bennet squeezed Elizabeth’s hand and gave her an amused look. “I do not think I need prepare you for marriage and what you may expect on your wedding night. I have seen the looks you and Mr Darcy exchange.”
Then she stood, laughing. “There, I have embarrassed you one last time.”
Elizabeth stared, too shocked to laugh.
“Now we must arrange your hair, Lizzy. Best to begin the evening with it looking perfect.”
Darcy looked upon Mrs Bennet not as the simple widow of his friend but as a lady whose grief allowed her to assert her independence.
His promises of security had settled her, and absent the need to attend to the capricious and sarcastic comments of the late Mr Bennet, her nerves had calmed.
Elizabeth had a greater share of her parents’ best attributes; she boasted not just her father’s intelligence and wit but her mother’s beauty.
Her sensitivity and innate kindness were her own, and this evening, as they followed Mrs Bennet’s direction and collected the books Elizabeth wished to take from her father’s library, he wanted to divert her from any melancholy.
“Copperdale will be let, as you know, and Mr Philips will secure a house in Meryton for your mother and sisters. However, if she does not wish to remain in Meryton come spring, there are other choices.” Darcy looked at her expectantly from the window seat, where he sat holding Mr Bennet’s annotated copies of Milton and Wordsworth.
Standing a few feet away, Elizabeth gave him a wry look. “Your many estates?”
“There is Rosings, a house in Bath, small estates in Warwickshire, Ireland and Wales, and the dower house at Pemberley.”
Shock was too small a word for her reaction. “So many? You are teasing me.”
“I am not. Your family may not wish to be removed from the people and place they have always known, but they are to be my family as well.”
He enjoyed the warm smile she sent him and watched as she began to pack away Mr Bennet’s chess set. Stricken, he realised there were words he had not said to her.
“Elizabeth,” he breathed quietly. “This is perhaps not the right moment, but I will have you know that I am sorry for having ever made you feel replaced here in your father’s library. I too once felt replaced by another, in my father’s heart.”
The confusion and concern in her eyes made him ache with the knowledge that he was blessed to be well-loved. He began and, not wishing to despoil these precious minutes on the last night before they were man and wife, kept the story brief.
“George Wickham was the son of Pemberley’s steward, and a favourite of my father.
We were sent to school together and the wildness he had displayed as a boy grew into licentiousness.
I have spent years paying his debts, and, to shorten a long and sordid history of our acquaintance, he attempted to revenge himself on me by seducing my sister earlier this year. ”
“Dear Georgiana!”
“She is well,” he said, conveying his meaning with his look, “but her spirits have been low. You are the sister she needs, just as you are the wife, friend, and companion I need.”
Elizabeth laid her hand on his arm as she joined him on the window seat and spoke in a gentle tone. “A family we shall be. You, and Georgiana, need not tell me of these events, but you both must know that I am willing to listen and share all your burdens. Please, promise me you understand.”
Darcy felt his eyes sting. “I promise.”
“You have proven how admirably you hold to promises.”
“Aye, but my promise to your father was only a beginning. I was searching for distraction and relief from my family’s coercion. Instead, I discovered precious friendship and a priceless love.”
When their eyes met, Darcy saw that hers were bright with unshed tears and happiness.
She nodded her agreement. “I sought my father’s attention and a means of security. I could not have fathomed that a life of amity and love would be found with the quiet visitor to his book room—a man who unearthed other hidden treasures for my family as well.”
If she had more to say, it was silenced when he leaned in to kiss her and murmur endearments of affection and joy .
Elizabeth Darcy awoke to the scent of chocolate and the warmth of her new husband’s lips on her bare shoulder.
Five days earlier, they had signed the wedding registry and said their farewells to their family and friends in Hertfordshire.
Both had worn sombre colours, but Elizabeth allowed herself a touch of gaiety, with white and yellow ribbons on her bonnet, and solace with a white chess pawn sewn into her seam.
Now she lay naked under the white counterpane, in a room of blue and white.
If she could raise her head and look outside, she would see snow falling heavily outside, covering Pemberley’s rolling lawns, and ensuring this would be a day of close companionship inside the house.
Instead, she rolled over, seeking the man whose kiss had awakened her so wonderfully, and he was all she could see.
He was a fine sight, with his hair tousled, his jaw shaded by the morning’s beard, and holding a cup of chocolate for her. She smiled drowsily and sat up.
“Good morning, wife.”
“Good morning, husband.”
Elizabeth sipped the still-warm chocolate while Darcy draped a thick robe around her shoulders and lay, propped up on his elbow, beside her.
When she finished and felt more fully at one with the morning, he took the empty cup and captured her lips, murmuring silly nothings about sweetness and love against them.
His hand roved underneath the sheets as he whispered, “We shall soon be blanketed in snow and forced to amuse ourselves indoors. Have you any thoughts and wishes for the day?”
He was nibbling her ear when Elizabeth realised that if sense was needed and arrangements for the day must be made, she must be the sensible one.
“We have yet to play one another in chess, so I wish for a match or three. ”
Darcy raised himself up and gazed at her, amusement clear in every feature. “You wish to checkmate me, is that it?”
Elizabeth shivered and pulled the robe against her.
Darcy climbed quickly from the bed and stirred the fire.
When the flames were once again roaring, he turned and stood, gazing at her for a long moment before he came to sit beside her.
The earnestness in his expression touched her heart, and made her wonder at his thoughts.
He took her hand and kissed the ring he had placed there only days ago.
“You have long been beautiful to me, from when I saw you in a field chasing your bonnet to our wedding day wearing your finest mourning dress. But never have I seen you more beautiful than you are at this moment.”
The gentleness in his voice and the happiness in her heart nearly overtook Elizabeth’s emotions. Instead of tears, she leaned towards her husband and joined their hands, gazing at the gold rings that bound them together.
“There is no beauty to equal the tenderness of your heart,” she whispered, moments before he swept her into his arms.