Page 48 of To Love And To Cherish (Pride And Prejudice Variation #3)

Elizabeth awoke to a golden slant of light stretching across the chamber floor, warming the counterpane and glowing against the faded wallpaper. She blinked, momentarily confused. The fire had been stoked; the room was comfortably warm. She lay nestled beneath a thick coverlet, alone in the bed.

The previous evening returned to her in a sudden flush of memory: her husband’s hands, his whispered endearments, the way he had kissed her with such uncharacteristic fervor.

It astonished her still. The Fitzwilliam Darcy she had come to know was proud, quiet, measured in every word and motion.

But last night, and again early this morning, he had been anything but.

She found her wrapper on the floor, a casualty of that new, ungovernable intimacy, and tied it quickly about her waist just as a knock sounded at the door. A second later, the key turned.

Darcy stepped in, followed by a maid balancing a tray heaped with food. His hair was wind-tossed, and his cheeks ruddy with cold. He grinned.

"So, you’ve decided to wake at last. It is ten o’clock, Mrs. Darcy."

She stared at him. This was not the Darcy she had known in Hertfordshire, nor even the man she had come to admire here in Scotland. This man was grinning, smiling, even. One might almost call him cheerful.

The maid set the tray on a small table by the window, fed the fire, and curtsied herself out.

Darcy stepped toward her, more cautious now, and took her hand gently. "How are you this morning, Mrs. Darcy? Are you well?"

She understood at once what he meant. Her smile bloomed with warmth. "I am very well, Mr. Darcy. More than well. I am gloriously happy."

His expression softened into something she had not seen before: unguarded joy. He pulled her into an embrace.

"I am gloriously happy, too. I’ve written to your father and to Georgiana to tell them we were married yesterday. Your father will expect us at Longbourn. He has the marriage settlements already and awaits my signature."

She pulled back in surprise. "How does Papa have the settlements?"

Darcy looked faintly sheepish. "I had them drawn up at the same time as the sales contract for Ellan House.

I wrote to your father of my intentions and enclosed the settlements, so he might be assured I acted in good faith.

I asked that he make no announcement until he heard from me regarding your answer. "

Elizabeth blinked. "I see. So you contrived, and you succeeded."

He laughed. "And now we are both gloriously happy. All’s well that ends well, my dearest, loveliest Elizabeth."

He kissed her, then stepped back and motioned to the tray.

"Come, let us eat. The weather is cold, but fine.

We have about eleven hours of daylight remaining and sixteen miles to cover before reaching Tom Aitinn.

I sent a boy yesterday to bespeak lodgings.

The innkeeper says it is a small village on the River Findhorn.

A quiet place, but he directed me to a couple who take in travelers.

There are clean beds, good food, and room for horses and our servants.

We can reach it in three hours without hurry, or one and a half if we ride swiftly. "

They sat to eat, but Elizabeth found herself under constant observation. Darcy, seated directly across from her, seemed to find her infinitely fascinating.

She took a bite of bacon and glanced up. "Mr. Darcy, I cannot eat while you stare at me so intensely."

He grinned. "Mrs. Darcy, I cannot help myself. The most beautiful woman in the world is sitting across from me in a state of dishabille."

She flushed. "Well, sir, I would be bathed and dressed by now on an ordinary morning, but as my husband kept me awake more than half the night, and then woke me again before sunrise, I can hardly be expected to be punctual."

He chuckled. "You are a siren, Mrs. Darcy. I do not know how I shall ever get anything done, with your beauty and charms calling me as they do."

She covered her face. "I cannot eat. This is mortifying."

Still laughing, he rose. "Do not trouble yourself, Mrs. Darcy. I have finished my breakfast and will leave you to yours. The maid will bring your bathwater shortly. I’ve already sent James and the coach ahead; luncheon should be waiting for us when we arrive in Tom Aitinn.

Don’t mind me, love. I am hopeless, and I know it.

I’ll run along and give you peace and privacy. "

The sun shone brightly, and the skies were clear and blue, a lovely day in Scotland.

She wore a bright red riding habit and sat atop Kelpie like an indulgent Venus.

The mare’s black coat gleamed in the Highland sun.

Between that noble creature and her striking rider, Darcy found it difficult to look away.

Why had he resisted her for so many months? Had he understood the joy she would bring, he might have proposed the moment he saw her again in Hertfordshire.

He grimaced. If he had done so, he would not have needed to apologize for the many foolish things he had said and done, particularly humiliating her in public.

That memory was still embarrassing. He shook his head.

He had resisted her because of her low station and connections to trade, but when had he ever truly cared for the opinion of society?

He had never enjoyed balls, nor card parties, nor the tiresome theatrics of the London season.

At such gatherings, he had refused to dance and spoke to almost no one.

He had never courted their good opinion.

Fortunately, Elizabeth would not miss the crowded drawing rooms or the endless hours of trivial conversation, not having been brought up to value a busy social calendar or the good opinion of the ton.

Still, she must be introduced. There was Aunt Helen and Uncle Henry to face, and the sooner it was done, the better.

He would take Elizabeth directly to London after they visited Longbourn.

There, they would shop for new gowns, and she would be dressed as befitted the wife of Mr. Darcy.

Then to Aunt Helen, who would know how best to navigate the introductions.

Perhaps a dinner party with his married friends from Cambridge? Or a quiet supper with a few former colleagues; men from the Service who had since left their work in espionage? Aunt Helen would guide them.

He glanced at Elizabeth again. She would do well anywhere.

With her grace, wit, and goodness, she would charm every person of sense and disarm the rest. Still, the cats of society, those who had long imagined themselves as future Mrs. Darcys, would not take kindly to her.

They would seek to hold her down. Let them try.

His Elizabeth had strength and wit enough for any drawing room.

He smiled at the thought. They would not stay long in town. This first year would belong to them. Long days, long nights, just the two of them at Pemberley. The rest of the world could wait.