Page 28 of Unwillingly Mrs. Darcy
Elizabeth
E lizabeth and Jane strolled leisurely through the gardens of Pemberley. The pretty hues of the late summer blooms now gone, and the gardens were awash with the golden and amber tones of the turning leaves. Autumn had always been Elizabeth’s favourite season. It brought her soul rest, as odd as that might appear to some.
Their shoes crunched softly along the gravel paths, while the occasional trill of birds added a melodic backdrop to their conversation.
“You and Mr Darcy seem much more at ease with one another than your letters led me to believe,” Jane observed, her voice as gentle as the day itself. She glanced sideways at her sister. “But I can tell something is still troubling you, Lizzy. What is it?”
Elizabeth hesitated, her gaze fixed on the path ahead. “I wish I knew,” she said at last, her voice tinged with uncertainty. “I wish I weren’t so confused.”
“Confused about what?” Jane asked, slowing her pace and turning to her sister with a look of quiet concern.
Elizabeth sighed. “My feelings. For Darcy.”
“If I may speak plainly, looking at you, I would never have suspected such inner turmoil. The way you look at him, Lizzy, it is unmistakable. There is affection there—genuine affection. The kind I hope is reflected in my own gaze when I look at Charles.”
Elizabeth felt a faint blush rise in her cheeks. It was true, she did look at Darcy often, more often than she realised, and with a softness she had never associated with herself before. And yet…
“It is not that simple,” she said quietly. “I think… I am fond of him, Jane. More than fond. I enjoy his company. When I enter the parlour, I feel a sense of disappointment if he is not there, and when he is there, my heart…” She paused, searching for the right words. “It leaps.”
Jane looped her arm through Elizabeth’s, giving it a reassuring squeeze. “Lizzy, that sounds to me like your heart knows what it wants. But something is holding your mind back. What is it?”
Elizabeth hesitated, her thoughts a tangle of emotions. “It is his reasons for marrying me,” she said finally. “You know he proposed to me once before, and I declined.”
“In rather emphatic terms, if I recall,” Jane said with a small, knowing smile.
Elizabeth could not help but chuckle softly. “Indeed. I made my feelings towards him very clear. And yet he came to me again, despite it all. He offered to save our family, Jane. Does that not strike you as somewhat calculated?”
Jane’s expression grew thoughtful. “Perhaps, if that were his only reason. But was it not also true that he needed to marry to avoid scandal with his cousin? You both entered the marriage with some understanding of each other’s circumstances. Besides, you cannot deny that you also married him for practical reasons. It was a mutual arrangement, was it not?”
Elizabeth nodded slowly. “Yes, it was an arrangement. But I worry that I have been manipulated. Not by Darcy, but by my own foolishness. That my feelings now are simply a result of our proximity, of gratitude for what he has done for me, for us.”
Jane stopped walking, forcing Elizabeth to stop with her. She turned to face her sister fully, a rare firmness in her voice as she said, “Lizzy, what has brought this doubt into your mind?”
Elizabeth hesitated again, then admitted, “I spoke with Mary. She suggested that gratitude can sometimes masquerade as love. She believes I am mistaking one for the other.”
Jane frowned, her brow creasing with disbelief. “Mary told you this? Dearest Lizzy, since when has Mary been your guide in matters of the heart? I do not wish to sound unkind, but Mary has always had a rather cynical view of the world, and romance in particular. She has never known love herself.”
Elizabeth bit her lip, recognising the truth in Jane’s words. Mary had always been pragmatic to a fault, her outlook more academic than emotional.
Jane continued, her tone softening. “You are letting fear cloud your judgement. Fear of loving him, fear of being vulnerable, and perhaps even fear of happiness itself. Have you considered that?”
Elizabeth looked away, her mind racing. She could not deny the truth in Jane’s words, though admitting it to herself was a far greater challenge.
They resumed their stroll, the silence between them now one of contemplation rather than unease. After a while, Jane spoke again. “And what of Mary? Mr Darcy mentioned she has been quieter of late.”
Elizabeth’s face fell slightly. “She has not been herself. At first, she seemed to thrive here. Darcy arranged for her to have music lessons and opportunities to volunteer at a convalescent home. She made friends there and seemed to have found purpose. But lately, she has become withdrawn. Darcy thinks it may be homesickness, though I am not certain.”
“Mary always spoke of adventure and independence,” Jane said thoughtfully. “But I think it was easier for her to dream of it than to live it. Perhaps being away from home is harder than she anticipated. We could take her back to Longbourn, if she wishes it.”
Elizabeth sighed, guilt washing over her. “Perhaps we should. I wonder if I have done enough for her. I wanted so badly for my sisters to find happiness here, and when Mary seemed content, I focused more on myself and Darcy. I should have paid more attention.”
Jane gave her sister’s arm another gentle squeeze. “You have done more than most would in your situation. When Mary and Kitty return from Matlock, we can discuss what would be best for them. Kitty may wish to return to Longbourn as well.”
“Then I would be alone with Darcy,” Elizabeth murmured, almost to herself.
Jane smiled. “And that does not seem to trouble you as it once did, does it?”
Elizabeth returned the smile, a faint blush colouring her cheeks. “No, it does not trouble me at all. In truth, I think I would enjoy it. I have found myself longing for time alone with him.”
“And yet we have come and disrupted your peace,” Jane said with a light laugh. “I told Charles we ought to write ahead before visiting.”
“Nonsense,” Elizabeth replied warmly. “I am so glad you are here, Jane. This conversation alone has brought me so much clarity. I would not trade it for anything.”
Jane’s eyes sparkled with affection. “Very well. I shall not feel too guilty for taking time away from your Mr Darcy. But can you imagine it, Lizzy? You and I, both married. Charles has even spoken of settling here in the North. He is fond of our family, but I daresay the idea of living within three miles of Mama for the rest of his days does not sit well with him.”
Elizabeth laughed, a genuine sound that felt like sunshine breaking through clouds. “I can well imagine it. And I daresay Darcy would not care to take up permanent residence in Hertfordshire either. So, you are thinking of moving here?”
“Perhaps not Lambton, but Sheffield,” Jane said. “Charles has relations there on both sides of his family. They have invited us to visit, and he seems keen to live closer to them.”
Elizabeth smiled softly, glancing ahead to where Darcy, Mr Bingley, and their aunt were seated in the garden, laughing over tea. The sight warmed her heart in ways she could scarcely describe. For the first time, she allowed herself to dream of what could be, a life where she and Jane were neighbours, their husbands as dear friends as well as brothers-in-law, and their families bound together by love and affection. She could almost see it—a future filled with laughter, friendship, and yes, perhaps even happiness.
***
Jane, Mr Bingley, and Aunt Gardiner stayed for two more days, filling the halls of Pemberley with warmth and laughter. Their presence brought a liveliness that was infectious, and Elizabeth found herself increasingly at ease. The easy camaraderie between her sister and Mr Bingley, so natural and unburdened, painted a picture of a happiness she had long desired for Jane. Watching the way Mr Bingley looked at her, a soft adoration evident in his every glance, reminded Elizabeth of all the blessings that had been bestowed upon them after so much hardship.
For Elizabeth, these two days offered something of a glimpse into what life at Pemberley could truly be—what it ought to be. She envisioned her days filled with moments like these. Intimate gatherings in the drawing room, walks through the gardens where the sunlight scattered softly upon the ground, and animated conversations over dinner.
Darcy, too, seemed lighter during this time. His sense of humour, subtle yet delightful, emerged more often, drawing smiles from all present. Even Aunt Gardiner, often a reserved observer, laughed openly at his dry wit. Watching him in such moments, Elizabeth felt her heart soften further. The reserved, almost haughty man she had once believed him to be, had slowly but surely revealed a capacity for warmth and tenderness that never failed to surprise her.
In the evenings, Darcy insisted on reading aloud to the group, his deep voice commanding attention as he recited poetry that Elizabeth was sure he had chosen with her in mind.
One particularly poignant moment came during an after-dinner stroll. Mr Bingley and Jane walked ahead, their low murmurs a soundtrack to the twilight. Elizabeth lingered behind with Aunt Gardiner, her arm looped through the older woman’s as they made their way towards the lake.
“Your husband,” her aunt said softly, “is a very agreeable man, Lizzy. And one who, I think, loves you deeply.”
Elizabeth was quiet for a moment, her gaze fixed on the distant shimmer of the water. “He has surprised me,” she finally admitted. “In so many ways. When I think of how I first judged him…” She trailed off, shaking her head at her own folly.
“That is the mark of growth,” Aunt Gardiner replied. “To re-evaluate and learn. And, I might add, it is also the mark of a good match. You both challenge each other, do you not?”
Elizabeth could not suppress her smile. “Constantly,” she said.
The two women walked a while in companionable silence, their footsteps on the gravel path the only sound. When they returned to the house, they found Jane and Mr Bingley at the piano, their heads close together as they tried to decipher a piece of music. Darcy was at his desk but looked up immediately when Elizabeth entered. Their eyes met, and for a brief moment, it felt as though the others vanished, leaving only the two of them in the world.
***
The following day, as Jane and Mr Bingley prepared to depart, Elizabeth felt an unexpected pang of sadness. She had grown accustomed to the added cheer of their company, and the thought of returning to quieter days made her heart ache just a little. Still, she knew she would not be alone. Not truly.
Standing in the front hall, Jane embraced her tightly. “Lizzy,” she said, her voice soft with emotion, “I am so happy for you.”
“And I for you,” Elizabeth replied, her voice catching slightly. “Jane, I hope we can make this a habit. Regular visits.”
Jane smiled. “I would like nothing better.”
Mr Bingley, ever enthusiastic, assured Darcy that they would not be strangers and promised to host them at Netherfield soon, a plan to which Darcy agreed readily.
As their carriage disappeared down the driveway, Elizabeth turned back to Darcy, who offered her his arm. Together, they returned to the drawing room.
“I daresay I shall miss them,” Elizabeth said, a soft laugh escaping her.
“They will return,” Darcy assured her, his tone warm. “And in the meantime, there is much to occupy us here.”
Elizabeth looked up at him, feeling a strange new certainty settle over her. Perhaps she had always envisioned her life here. Not as Darcy’s reluctant bride, but as his true wife—sharing joys, challenges, and the quiet, precious moments of everyday life.
For the first time since their whirlwind marriage, she found herself looking forward to the future with hope rather than apprehension. The life she could see before her was a promising one, and she began to wonder if perhaps her heart had already decided its course.