Page 16

The days passed with Elizabeth growing stronger in body, and she was eventually allowed to venture out of her room, though her sister made her promise to only remain above the stairs, as she did not feel Elizabeth was quite so recovered as to venture farther.

Elizabeth was strolling through the gallery, looking at the various pictures of Darcys through the years, when she heard the sound of children laughing and feet running along the wooden floor.

The next moment she saw the three boys – James, Henry, and David – enter the gallery and all came to a sudden halt, their feet sliding on the floor and the youngest, David, nearly falling as he followed behind the two older boys.

She chuckled, though she tried to hide it so as not to encourage them.

“I see that you have lost your way to the nursery,” she said to the three.

James spoke up, “I am sowwy, Mama. We will go there now.” With his head low, he turned to lead his cousins back to their designated play room.

“James,” Elizabeth called out to him, “would you like to walk with me while your cousins return to the nursery for their tea?”

His face brightened, and he turned to his cousins, saying, “Pwease save me a biscuit,” before he ran over to take Elizabeth’s hand.

The two Bingley boys left, promising to save the treat for their cousin, and Elizabeth took great joy in walking along the gallery with James’ hand tightly holding onto hers.

When they came upon a portrait that looked to be only a year or so old, she stared at the four individuals depicted – the current Darcy family: Fitzwilliam, James, Rose, and her.

She did not yet remember much more, but she took great joy in the contented looks upon the faces of those in the portrait, especially her own.

They each looked happy and at peace, though she could see the pent-up energy in the eyes of the boy who stood beside her now.

“James, do you remember sitting for this portrait?”

James shook his head, “No, Mama. Papa says I was too young.” Suddenly his eyes brightened and he turned to her, “Maybe you don’t memember because you were too young, just wike me!”

She couldn’t help but chuckle at the way his mind worked. “Perhaps,” was all she said, before they were interrupted by a deep voice.

“Mrs Reynold’s is looking for you, Master Darcy.

She wishes to go over the last details for your birthday celebration tomorrow.

” Darcy walked across the gallery towards his wife and son.

He ruffled James’ hair, smiling as he said, “She and Cook are determined to make it a day to remember, but if you do not go and add your own say, it is possible you shall have kidneys and squash for your special supper.”

The boy’s face scrunched up. “I do not like kidneys or squash.”

Darcy chuckled, “Then you had best go and talk with Mrs Reynolds and Cook.” He leaned down to whisper into his son’s ear, “Perhaps you can tell them that you wish for a chocolate cake this high,” and he held his hand up as high as James’ head.

James’ eyes grew large with excitement and he ran from the room, saying, “And they cannot forget Mama’s favorite, lemon tarts!”

They both laughed at their son, then, when they were alone, Darcy turned and held out his arm, asking, “May I escort you?”

Elizabeth took it. “Thank you. I was becoming restless in my room, so I decided to explore and I found myself in here. I hope you do not mind?”

“Elizabeth, Pemberly is your home. You are the mistress, and you have every right to explore any room within its walls, so long as your sister approves of your activity.” He leaned closer and whispered, “I would not wish to upset Mrs Bingley by you doing too much too soon. She is a formidable caregiver.”

Elizabeth smiled, “Yes, she can be.”

They began walking slowly as Darcy pointed to the portraits and told of the stories of each generation of Darcys, going all the way back to the first Darcys who walked the halls of Pemberley.

The time they strolled through the halls soon came to an end, and Elizabeth returned to her room feeling a connection to the man beside her that she had not felt before now.

Her husband… she could now say those words, at least in her mind, without feeling any anxiety.

He was proving each and every day how much he cared for her and their children, and Elizabeth found that her heart was growing more devoted of him with every interaction.

She was not yet ready to admit it, even to herself, but the word love was often in the back of her thoughts.

The day of celebration of their firstborn child dawned bright and cheery, with the sun beaming through the curtains and the temperature warm enough to melt the snow drifts that had been accumulating all winter long.

The trees were beginning to show tiny shoots of green, and spring was clearly on the cusp of blooming in full force very soon.

Elizabeth stood before the open window breathing in deeply as the wind blew lightly into her room.

She had been up for nearly two hours already and had not yet seen anyone else besides her maid Betsy.

She had already chosen her dress and completed her toilette with Betsy’s help.

Now she only awaited word of what the day would hold, as the others had been vague in their descriptions of what James had planned for his special day.

They would only tell her that he had several very special things he wished to do with the whole family.

A knock sounded at the door, and Elizabeth smiled.

She knew that knock to be that of her husband.

Her husband. Her heart was delighted at the thought of Fitzwilliam Darcy being her husband.

Such a change from just a few short weeks ago, when his presence brought on such anxiety that she had frightened him.

He never admitted to such feelings, but she could tell in his eyes how frightened her memory loss had been for him.

Over the weeks she had slowly come to realize just how solicitous and caring he was, and she was finally able to look upon him with admiration and love. Love… yes, she could say with certainty now that she loved him, though she still wished she could remember what had been lost to her.

A second knock brought her back to the moment, and she called for him to enter.

She was not surprised that he was dressed impeccably in his blue coat, for his man always had him turned out with flawless precision.

Her cheeks flushed and she looked away from him when her mind wandered to her memory of him when she had first awakened – him in his shirtsleeves, chest showing through his open neckline, hair wet, and shoeless in his buckskin breeches and stockings.

Her cheeks grew warm at the thought, and her heart soared with love for this man who stood before her.

She would need to tell him soon of her change of heart.

“Good morning,” Darcy said in greeting. “I see that Betsy has already helped you with your preparations. Would you care to accompany me to the breakfast room?”

She looked back to him, her eyes wide as she asked, “Is my sister now of a mind to allow me below stairs?”

He walked across the room and began to close the window, then put his arm out to her, saying, “Even Jane would not squash the plans of a very grown up four your old boy. He has the whole day planned, beginning with breaking our fast all together. So, may I escort you?”

Elizabeth placed her hand on his proffered arm and the two quit the room, walking in companionable silence until they finally arrived at a room that had been arranged for their breakfast in a most becoming fashion.

Elizabeth did not recognize it, but she was impressed with the spread of dishes on the sideboard, and she smiled at Jane, who sat at the table along with the other family members awaiting their arrival.

When they entered, James jumped up from his seat and came running over to them. “Mama! Papa! I was waiting for you to come.” He gave an exaggerated whisper to his father, “I memembered to wear my blue coat, Papa, just like yours.”

Darcy released Elizabeth’s arm and gave a bow to his son, saying, “It is your Mama’s favorite, is it not?”

Elizabeth smiled as both father and son looked at her with the same look upon their faces. She chuckled, “I suppose it is, though I cannot say I have much memory to draw from. You do, however, both look very fetching in them today.”

James cocked his head and looked seriously at her, as he asked, “You still do not memember?” then he turned to his father. “Papa, have you tried kissing Mama? She got awaked when I kissed her. So now you have to kiss her so she will memember us.”

The hum of activity in the room was silenced in an awkward pause as Darcy looked to Elizabeth. Not wishing to force his attentions upon her unwillingly, he said, “Son, the doctors have told us that your mother might remember with time. Her body needs to heal.”

James looked over to the table where his aunt sat, then back to his parents, saying, “But Aunt Jane said that a kiss can help. Does the doctor know that?” He said with all seriousness, “Maybe he is not as smart as Aunt Jane.”

Elizabeth chuckled and bent down to kiss her son’s cheek.

“Thank you, James. I think your aunt is very smart as well. Perhaps she is correct and your Papa needs to give me a kiss.” She looked up at Darcy, arching her eyebrow in challenge as she gave him a small nod of her acceptance.

She stood straight, all eyes in the room turning towards Darcy.

He swallowed hard, then stepped closer to his wife’s side and leaned down to place a small, chaste kiss upon her cheek.

“No Papa, that’s not how you have to kiss her. You have to kiss her on the lips!”

Darcy looked to his son with admonition, firmly stating, “James Bennet Darcy, a gentleman does not discuss such intimacies in company, and neither does a gentleman force his attentions upon a lady unwillingly.”

James looked down at the floor. “Sowwy, Papa.”

Elizabeth saw the tears that began to build in the boy’s eyes.

She bent down to his level, saying, “While your Papa is correct that gentleman should always give a lady a choice, I do not believe your Papa has asked for my opinion. Perhaps all he needs is encouragement to give me a proper kiss.” She turned her gaze up toward Darcy and smiled becomingly before straightening.

It had been several days now that she could not stop her mind from wandering towards thoughts of her husband and their relationship.

She had found herself anticipating the moments they would be together, walking the halls or sitting and chatting in front of the fireplace.

She had often buried her face in the wool blanket that held the pleasant lingering smell that she had come to associate with him.

Elizabeth stood with her shoulders straight, her lips curled up in a small smile, and her eyes staring at him in challenge.

She was not frightened at the prospect of receiving a proper kiss from this gentleman – her husband.

Every eye in the room watched as Darcy looked from Elizabeth, down to James, and then back to Elizabeth.

At her small nod, he stepped closer and leaned down, intending to kiss her lips softly.

At the touch of their lips together, a hunger he had not anticipated grew inside him, and his resolve to hold back was failing.

He was just about to step back from her when she wound her arms around his neck and pulled him closer.

He lost all sense of where they were and savored the feel of his wife’s form as his arms drew around her waist.

Elizabeth’s mind could not have prepared her for the feeling of his lips upon her own.

She knew he intended for it to be a chaste kiss, but when he started to pull away, she found her arms reach up of their own to pull him closer.

He deepened the kiss, and the sounds of the room disappeared as Elizabeth was drawn into a place of such peace and tranquility that she could not explain it.

She had expected to have some anxiety at such an intimacy, especially in the company of others, but instead she felt as if she had finally found her perfect place.

Their lips parted and her eyes remained closed as her heart began to beat faster. Memories flooded her mind so fast that she was nearly knocked off her feet. She felt his arms tighten around her.

“Elizabeth? Are you well?” Darcy felt her body shift and lean on him for support, so he tightened his grip on her waist. When she looked up at him and their eyes met, he knew something had changed.

Elizabeth’s eyes filled with unshed tears and she looked deeply into his. “I remember,” she whispered.

Darcy was taken aback. “You remember?”

She stepped just a little closer, burying her face into his chest as she drew in a deep breath, savoring the smell that was specific to her husband and tightening her arms around him. “I remember,” she said contentedly. She whispered for her husband’s ears only, “I love you Fitzwilliam Darcy.”

He smiled and whispered back, “There is no sweeter sound than hearing you say that, my darling wife.”

“You memember?” James could not hold in the joy at this knowledge, and he began to jump around. He turned to address the others still seated at the table, “Mama memembers now! Papa’s kiss worked, Aunt Jane! I knew it would!”

The room burst forth with laughter as joy filled the hearts of all those who had witnessed the love between Mr and Mrs Darcy reignited before their eyes.

It was a love for the ages, one which would certainly make a glorious tale for all future Darcys of Pemberley to enjoy telling as they, too, recounted the stories of their ancestors who graced the walls of Pemberley’s gallery.