Beginning, Previous Section, Section VII

Chapter 19

Posted on 2009-12-04

Darcy returned to Elizabeth's room as soon as he finished his correspondence. Although it was late, he had dispatched the three express letters that evening. The rest of the birth announcements could wait until morning.

The one thing that could not wait was Elizabeth. He could not stay away from her, not now that he finally understood – and accepted – what was in his heart.

She was asleep when he slipped into bed beside her. She was so beautiful; if only he could gaze into her fine eyes, then all would be perfect. He wanted to run his finger down her cheek, cup her face in his hands, and kiss away the memory of all the tears that Elizabeth had shed because of his misplaced pride. But she needed rest more than he needed such gratification, and he was unwilling to wake her. Instead, he relived their earlier conversation.

Darcy was humbled by Elizabeth's apparent eagerness to put the past few months behind them. He knew that he had wronged her greatly, so much so that she believed she had lost his good opinion.

Have I been that resentful? Have been that blind to her pain?

Yes, he had. His behaviour towards everyone since he had returned from Lydia's wedding could not be described as anything other than uniformly uncivil. It was a wonder Bartholomew and Amelia would still talk to him, though he began to suspect that they received him more for his wife's sake than his own.

Poor Elizabeth! To know that she had prayed for a daughter so that she would have the chance to become close to him again felt like a blow to the stomach. Darcy was devastated by her admission, all the more so because he understood that she had legitimate reasons to doubt his desire to recover the camaraderie they had shared following their marriage. He was ashamed, awed, and thankful. Ashamed at his misplaced resentment – Elizabeth had nothing to do with Wickham's schemes or his own actions when events had not gone as he had arrogantly directed. Awed that, despite his actions and his near-abandonment of her, his wife still loved him. Thankful that he would have the chance to repair the damage he had done to his relationships with his wife, his closest friends, and his family in Hertfordshire.

Later, a gentle knock on the door preceded the entrance of the new nursery maid, carrying a whimpering, hungry infant. The girl was startled to find the master awake and in bed with the mistress. Mrs. Reynolds had evidently neglected to mention that possibility to her.

"I beg pardon sir, but Miss Darcy is fussing, and will not quiet. She needs to be fed, I reckon."

Darcy nodded and nudged Elizabeth. "Mrs. Darcy, our daughter is in need of attention, and I am afraid that you are the only one who can bestow it upon her."

Elizabeth, slowly wakening, was very happy to see her husband beside her.

A small cry from her baby pulled her attention away from her spouse. She sat up and held out her arms. "Please bring her to me."

The maid complied, then bid a hasty retreat.

Elizabeth smiled. "I think your presence here upset the poor girl."

Darcy responded to her teasing in kind. "I am here at your express invitation."

"True. I suppose that I should have warned her, but I did not think to do so."

"What is the girl's name?"

"Alice. Her name is Alice McBride."

"Alice. Thank you. I will not forget."

Darcy watched with interest as his wife opened her gown to expose her breast to their child. The little one eagerly nursed; her father laughed softly.

"Our daughter was hungry."

"From the feel of it, famished might be a more accurate choice of word. Ouch! Slow down little one," she said as she caressed the baby's tiny head.

"Does it hurt you?"

"Not at all. She was suckling a little more vigorously than before. She has slowed now."

"I still feel guilty that you must do it, but I readily admit that it is a wondrous thing to watch. To know that all children are nourished in this way, I had never given the matter a thought before now."

"Tis how God intended it to be."

"And it is very good."

When Anne was finished feeding, Darcy called for the nursery maid.

"I am told that your name is Alice," he said to the nervous young woman.

"Aye, sir, Alice McBride."

"Well then, Alice, when did you arrive?"

"But a few days ago, sir."

"Welcome. I hope you will be happy at Pemberley."

"Thank you, sir."

"Before you leave, I would like to explain several things to you. First, I am very aware that you did not expect to see me here tonight. From this day, expect it."

"Yes, sir."

"If the baby needs Mrs. Darcy in the night, knock on the door and wait for an answer. If you are not directly given leave to enter, wait a few moments, then knock again. Only after you have knocked twice and received no answer may you open the door. Once the wet nurse arrives, there should be no need to disturb your mistress during the night. Do you understand these instructions?"

"Perfectly."

"Good. Good night, Alice."

"Goodnight, Mr. Darcy, Mrs. Darcy."

Elizabeth gently chided her husband after Alice left. "You frightened the poor girl."

"She will not enter hastily again. I would not want to scandalize our newest servant."

"Fitzwilliam!"

"Come here," he commanded. Elizabeth allowed Darcy to tuck her body against his.

"Gently, dearest, I am very sore in many places."

"I will be gentle. Now go to sleep."

Within minutes, Darcy felt Elizabeth's body relax, her breathing deep and regular. She was fast asleep.

"I promise never to hurt you again, my love," he whispered into her hair. Finally, his mind calmed, Darcy joined Elizabeth in the world of dreams.

The next several days passed with Elizabeth confined to her chambers. Darcy insisted that she stay in bed to rest and heal. At first, she was inclined to acquiesce to his demands, but as the days went on, Elizabeth grew restive and less compliant.

"I cannot stay in these rooms any longer. At least let me walk in the hall."

Darcy was pleased to see her spirit returning, even if she did direct her challenge toward him. He laughed to himself, realizing that she would not desist until she got her way, and agreed to walk with her. Donning a robe before he could change his mind, she walked to the door and waited.

"You mean to walk now?" Darcy asked with an upturned brow.

"Yes, now," came the exasperated reply.

Gallantly he joined her, tucking her arm into the crook of his. "Who am I to disappoint my lady wife?"

Darcy was careful to stay clear of the wing where rooms were being prepared to receive Elizabeth's family. Mr. Bennet had answered his letter immediately, strongly hinting that the invitation to Pemberley be extended to the Gardiners. No sooner had Darcy read those words than he dispatched an express asking the Gardiners to come. He had also received a reply from Bingley, but no one else, and he could do nothing but order enough rooms be made ready in the event that all his guests arrived.

He watched each night as Elizabeth fed baby Anne. In her tired state, Elizabeth's emotions were not hidden from him. Darcy could see the joy she derived from nursing their child. He had instructed Mrs. Reynolds not to bring the wet nurse to Pemberley until it was certain that the woman was completely healthy. The fever had lingered, and it was feared that her ability to fulfil her function would disappear, and indeed, so it proved to be. Mrs. Reynolds conveyed the bad news to her master.

"The girl is unable to nurse?" he asked.

"That is correct. I have continued to search for a replacement but have yet to secure anyone suitable."

"Continue on then. I will speak to Mrs. Darcy."

If Mrs. Reynolds was surprised with her master's calm acceptance of the situation, she was too well-trained to show it.

Darcy immediately went to speak with Elizabeth.

"Your wet nurse is recovered from her fever, but it has robbed her of the ability to discharge her duties."

"I can continue on until another is found."

"Do you wish for another to be found?"

"I … I would be willing to continue without one, but you can not be happy with such an arrangement." Elizabeth's voice betrayed the confusion of her feelings. Darcy winced. The Elizabeth of the first months of their marriage would have told him her opinion unreservedly. This Elizabeth was still circumspect in regard to his pride. He had much to make right.

"I asked you if you wished for another wet nurse to be found. Please, I want to know what you want. Do you wish for one, or would you rather not?"

"A woman of my station does not nurse her own child. I will not expose you to further reproof or ridicule."

Darcy's expression softened. "Elizabeth, all I want is for you to be happy. I have watched you feeding Anne. I can tell that it pleases you to do this."

"It does fill me with joy when she is at my breast, I will not deny that. But neither will I allow you to be looked down upon in any way. The Darcy name is too important to you and to me."

The old Darcy's pride was assuaged by her commitment; the new Darcy knew he must allow her to decide without worrying about what society dictated she should do.

"Elizabeth, tell me this. If you believed that no one would pass judgment one way or the other, would you continue to nurse our daughter?"

"Yes, I would, and happily."

"Then it is settled. I will tell Mrs. Reynolds that there is no need to find a new wet nurse."

"Fitzwilliam, I cannot allow this if you are in the least uncomfortable with it."

"I would only be uncomfortable were I to see you gaze wistfully and enviously at our daughter being nursed by another. You shall perform that duty for Anne for as long as you choose to do so."

He finished his speech then kissed her before leaving the room.

Elizabeth sat astounded. Her heart leapt with hope as she considered the import of his words.

A coach pulled into Longbourn late in the afternoon. Mrs. Bennet did not recognise it and wondered who was coming to call at this strange hour. She shrieked with joy as her darling Lydia was handed out of the equipage by a plainly dressed stranger. Mr. Bennet walked up to the couple and shook the man's hand.

"Mr. Pritchford, welcome to Longbourn. This is my wife, Mrs. Bennet."

"We came as soon as we could."

"You are most welcome, sir! Oh, Lydia, I think you have grown since you went away."

"Oh, Mama, I have missed you. But the boys are asleep in the carriage. The poor dears are exhausted."

"You brought your sons as well! Let me see the darlings."

Mr. Pritchford reached in and picked up the larger of the two boys, who stirred briefly when he was handed to a servant. The second made even less movement as his father carried him into the house.

"I think you might need to wait a little longer, Mama."

"We have time enough. Your father said not a word of your coming. What a wonderful surprise! How long will you be in Hertfordshire?"

Mr. Bennet answered for his daughter. "They leave tomorrow."

"Tomorrow? They must stay longer."

"I am afraid their plans are fixed, but so are ours. We will all be leaving in the morning. For Pemberley."

"Pemberley?" Mrs. Bennet exclaimed.

"I received an express four days ago. Elizabeth has been delivered of a daughter, and Mr. Darcy has summoned all of her family to Pemberley. That is why Lydia and her husband have come. Jane and Bingley will be travelling with us as well."

"I have a granddaughter! Oh, my! I am a grandmother! Elizabeth! Oh, is she well? And the child?"

"Both mother and child are well."

"Thank goodness." After a moment of revelling in the idea of finally having a grandchild, she remembered the rest of her husband's proclamation. "Mr. Darcy invited us to Pemberley? He wrote to you? I thought he forbade Elizabeth from even writing to us?"

"Yes he did. He has changed his mind and wrote himself, and I, for one, am overjoyed to be seeing my Elizabeth again."

It then occurred to Mrs. Bennet that they would be leaving in the morning. "You should have told me four days ago! I must see Hill!"

Harriet Bennet might have been silly, vain, and ignorant, but faced with the task of entertaining four unexpected visitors for the night and packing for a long trip to commence the next morning, she forgot her nerves and set about organizing everything with an easy precision that surprised everyone except her husband.

The next evening found the Bennets, Bingleys, and Pritchfords settling into their rooms at an inn on the road to Derbyshire. They were surprised when familiar voices greeted them.

"You have caught us," Mr. Bennet said as he offered his hand to his brother Gardiner.

"We left at first light, hoping to find you tonight. Fortunately, we made excellent time."

"We would have waited, had you sent word."

"That was unnecessary, and we did not have much time to prepare. All is well, and we can travel together the rest of the way."

The large party steadily made its way north, the pace an easy one out of consideration for the young Pritchford and Gardiner children.

The Darcys were advised that four coaches were approaching Pemberley. Elizabeth was at a loss to know who could be coming in such vast numbers. Darcy had not mentioned that either the Arnolds, or the Fitzwilliam clan, or any other large party was expected. She went with Darcy to the front of the house to greet the mysterious visitors. But as soon as she saw the coaches, her mood changed from curiosity to apprehension.

"Fitzwilliam, that is my family! I swear to you that I did not invite them. Please do not be angry with me."

"Elizabeth," he said calmly, "they are here at my invitation."

She looked at the man next to her as though she did not recognise him. She would have stood rooted to the spot had not the first carriage come to a stop. Her father stepped out of the compartment.

"Go," Darcy whispered as he nudged her forward. Elizabeth did not stop to think; she flew into the waiting arms of her beloved father. Darcy went to the open door of the coach and helped out Mrs. Bennet, Mary, and Kitty.

Elizabeth moved from her father to her mother and then to her sisters. She looked at the next carriage and saw Bingley helping Jane. She nearly stumbled as she ran to embrace her dearest sister. Through tears of joy, she saw the Gardiners coming out of the third vehicle and moved to greet them as well. She had nearly forgotten that a fourth coach also had arrived until she looked up and saw Lydia, standing with her husband and his two boys, afraid to approach. Darcy appeared at Elizabeth's side, and escorted her to her youngest sibling. He took it upon himself to make the introductions.

"Mrs. Darcy, may I present Mr. and Mrs. Pritchford and their sons, Thomas and Phillip? I believe you know Mrs. Pritchford." Again Darcy urged Elizabeth forward and the two sisters fell upon each other with unrestrained affection.

Eventually all made their way inside the house. Darcy decided it was best if his guests where taken directly to their rooms and Elizabeth was allowed a little time to recover from the emotional upheaval.

An hour later, the entire party reconvened in one of the larger drawing rooms. Darcy had rarely seen his wife so happy. Elizabeth had Anne brought in to introduce her daughter to her family. All eyes were fixed upon the infant as Alice handed her to her mother. Before Elizabeth could speak, Darcy walked to her side, put his hand on the small of her back, and addressed the group.

"It is my great honour and pleasure to present our daughter, Anne Harriet Amelia Darcy."

For the second time that day, Elizabeth's husband had managed to both delight and amaze her. Her head was spinning, and she did not know what to think. She gave Darcy a dazzling, if somewhat teary smile, then turned as her mother came to her and asked to hold the child.

Baby Anne calmly suffered the admiration of all, including many comments on how much she looked like her mother. Mr. Bennet allowed a tear or two to escape down his cheek as he gazed at his first grandchild. Even Darcy smiled when Mrs. Bennet proclaimed the child beautiful, then almost in the same breath ordered Elizabeth to next bear a son.

When Anne started to fuss, Elizabeth laughingly told those not so fortunate to as yet hold her daughter that they would have plenty of opportunities in the days to come.

Marie's eyes twinkled while she worked on her mistress' toilette before dinner. Elizabeth had chosen to wear an elegant deep blue gown to complement the diamond and sapphire necklace that Darcy had given her a few days before to commemorate Anne's birth.

Elizabeth recognized the knowing smile on her maid's face; it was the same as she had spied on most of the servants since her family had arrived at Pemberley.

"Am I the only person on this estate who did not know that my family was arriving today?"

"Oui, Madame." Marie laughed. "The master was most specific in his instructions. Everything was to be made ready so you would suspect nothing."

"You all certainly succeeded. I do not think I have ever been as completely surprised in my life."

Marie said nothing.

"Hmmm … Yes, well, my husband has often extolled the discretion and efficiency of his staff, and today has done nothing to discredit his praise. I must remember to give my compliments to Mrs. Reynolds."

But her pleasure tonight mirrored that of the rest of the staff. They were satisfied with a job well done. Their mistress was proud of them and astonished at their assignment.

Supper at Pemberley was unlike any Elizabeth had ever hosted. Although she had entertained a large party when Amelia and Bartholomew married, this was decidedly different. The guests at her table were people, other than Bingley and Jane, she believed she would never see again. Elizabeth was full of joy, but she was subdued in its expression. Her husband was seated opposite her at the other end of the table, and though he spoke with the Pritchfords who were seated on either side of him, she could tell he was uncomfortable. However, she could also see that his discomfort was not from disgust over the manners of his companions. Gone was the mask of hauteur he had always worn before in the presence of her younger sisters. In its place was a man taking pains to become better acquainted with his family.

As endearing as her husband's efforts were, her youngest sister's behaviour was a revelation. Lydia was … subdued! More than once, Elizabeth found herself staring at Lydia. The Lydia she remembered would not have been content to eat in relative silence. She would have loudly dominated the discussion around her and never deferred to others. She would have been flirting outrageously with any male seated nearby. Yet there sat Lydia Pritchford, listening politely to the discourse between her husband and Darcy. She even had a small, shy smile on her face when she looked at Mr. Pritchford.

After the meal, Darcy invited the men to share in port and cigars. Considering the events of the day, Elizabeth had hoped that he would not insist on this ritual, on this of all evenings. She did not know that he had a particular purpose in mind, one that could not be fulfilled if he did not separate the men from the women.

Bingley, Mr. Pritchford, Mr. Gardiner, and Mr. Bennet made their selections and waited on their host. No one had said much to him other than a perfunctory greeting since they had arrived. Darcy nervously cleared his throat.

"I want to start by thanking all of you for coming to us. I know I gave you little time to prepare for travel, especially Mr. Gardiner and Mr. Pritchford. With that said, I believe you are all entitled to an explanation.

"I will begin with the events of last August. When we received word of Lydia's flight with Wickham, my intent was to travel to London, discover her whereabouts, and separate her from the knave, then quietly send her away. As soon as I arrived in Town and learned that they had not married, I knew what game Wickham was playing. I was confident that I could defeat him. I sought a man such as you, Mr. Pritchford, and arranged for you to meet and, if you were agreeable, to marry Lydia. Everything went according to plan, and I believed the matter behind us and that, minus Lydia's presence, we would go on as we were before. Frankly, I expected never to see Lydia again after I left Devon. Wickham was sent from England; the danger had passed."

The men shifted in their seats, looking at each other to see who would be the first to speak. Darcy raised his hand to forestall them. "Yes, I know, I was an arrogant ass, but please let me finish.

"Unfortunately, my former boyhood companion had a trump card up his sleeve, and the news of what he had done with my sister-in-law became the fodder of the scandal sheets. My uncle, the Earl of Perryton, brought that news to my attention. He had received a letter from Wickham. I can only guess that someone posted letters for him by previous arrangement, for he had no opportunity to do such before his ship set sail. It was at that point that I did the most selfish and foolish thing of my life. I ordered Elizabeth to cease all contact with her family, save your wife, Bingley. I only allowed that because of our long friendship. I am ashamed to admit that I thought only of my own position when I decided on this course. I wanted to mitigate the effects of the scandal on the Darcy name."

Darcy took a breath and continued. "I was completely wrong in my actions. I recognize that I have offended you all and deeply injured my wife. I stand before you now to ask you to accept my apology and to beg your forgiveness. Your presence here gives me hope that you are willing to at least consider healing the breach that I have caused. If you cannot bring yourself to forgive me, then I ask that you absolve Elizabeth from any blame. She was neither consulted nor in any way involved in my decision. Her only fault might be that she kept to her marital vows too assiduously and obeyed my commands completely."

The men all looked to Mr. Bennet, who finally broke the silence. "Have you told all this to Elizabeth?"

"No, sir, not all of it. I will tell her tonight."

Mr. Bennet took a sip of his drink, put down his glass, then fixed his gaze on his son-in-law.

"Darcy, your actions wounded me in ways that I never thought possible. For many months, I have grieved for a daughter whom I believed was lost to me forever. You caused all my family great distress. Yes, the scandal reached Hertfordshire, but it was made infinitely worse by your severing all connection to us. Yes, Lydia's folly shamed us, but that was nothing compared to the grief of losing Elizabeth and the threat of never knowing the grandchild she then carried.

"You placed a higher value on the approval of the very society you said that you despised for its hypocrisy than on the pain you would cause your wife and her family. You put the Darcy name before ties of blood and marriage. Perhaps I should have expected that. You have never held my family in high esteem." Mr. Bennet raised his hand in dismissal as Darcy looked as if he were about to protest. "You made no secret of it. Must I remind you of a certain conversation we had in my library last spring?

"Make no mistake. My family and I are here now for my daughter and her child, not for you. I know Elizabeth, and I know that she feels things deeply. I can only imagine, because you decreed that she could not correspond with us, how she must have suffered these last months. Elizabeth, a completely innocent party, isolated, alone, and with child. I have no doubt that you withdrew your good opinion even of her, because she formerly carried the cursιd name of Bennet.

"But may I also remind you that your past history with Wickham and your alliance with my family very likely influenced that man's decision to abscond with my youngest daughter. I make no excuse for Lydia's lack of judgment, but when all was said and done, you, sir, you went too far."

Mr. Bennet paused in an obvious attempt to regain control of his emotions. He gave his daughter's husband, the father of his first grandchild, a piercing look as he spoke again. "You disappoint me, Darcy. Had I suspected that your pride and arrogance would manifest themselves so cruelly, I would never have consented to your marriage. I wish to God that I had not."

A shocked silence permeated the room. Mr. Bennet's words had shaken Darcy to his core. For several moments, he could do nothing more than stare at the carpet. His emotions were barely in check: first, anger that Mr. Bennet dared speak to him in this manner; then remorse, as he silently acknowledged the truth of the man's accusations; and, finally, horror, true horror, not only at his own actions, but at the thought of a life without Elizabeth.

"Mr. Bennet, Mr. Gardiner, Mr. Pritchford, Bingley" Darcy said, as he looked in turn at each man, "I do not know how I can express to you how deeply sorry I am. I deserve your censure and your scorn. I was completely wrong. My actions harmed each of you and your families, not the least of all my own wife." He saw no signs of acceptance and continued in a more agitated tone.

"What can I say to convince you that I am sincere in my remorse? I have done little more this past week but review the errors I made. I know my failures. Shall I name them?

"When I first heard that Lydia had gone to Brighton, I meant to send someone to watch over her – I did not follow through with my resolution. Then, after word of the elopement arrived and I travelled to London, I should have told you the entirety of my plan to recover Lydia and asked for your advice. I would have fought just as hard against Lydia marrying Wickham; she would have been condemned to a life of misery shackled to that profligate. But I should have sought your agreement before implementing my schemes. And if I were the man I thought I was, I should have shown my support of you publicly after the scandal became known, even if I could not allow Elizabeth to travel to Longbourn in her expectant condition.

"Mr. Bennet, you are correct; I never held your family in any esteem. I wanted Elizabeth, and only Elizabeth. I used the scandal to remove her from your sphere." Darcy made sure to look his father-in-law in the eye. "But sir, in one thing you are completely mistaken. Elizabeth never lost my good opinion. That … is not possible."

Silence descended. Every man knew that they were at a volatile point. Pritchford spoke next.

"Please, gentlemen. Today is the first time I have met my sister, Mrs. Darcy. She does not appear unhappy."

"Elizabeth was not made for unhappiness," Mr. Bennet admitted. He sighed, seeming ready to relent, but then appeared to change his mind. "Tell me, Darcy, how can we be sure that this reunion you have arranged is not just some attempt to placate your wife? Perhaps Kitty will run away and you will cast us aside once again. After all, you had no qualms about coming into my house and inferring that I was a negligent father."

"Actions have repercussions, even yours, Mr. Bennet. When I asked you to come to Pemberley, I was prepared to apologize and to begin to atone for my wrongs. Please, if only for Elizabeth's sake, judge the sincerity of my repentance by my future conduct. To begin, with your permission, I will offer my apologies to Mrs. Bennet, Mary, and Catherine. And to Mrs. Bingley, Mrs. Gardiner, and Mrs. Pritchford.

"Mr. Darcy," Frank Pritchford began, "I can speak for my wife when I say that she does not expect an apology. Lydia has matured since we married. Mrs. Bennet wrote and told us what you had done. My wife understands why you separated yourself from us, and accepts her own responsibility in the matter. She wanted to write to her mother defending you, but I would not allow it. You owe neither Mrs. Pritchford nor me an apology."

"Pritchford, I thank you, but I must apologize for a completely different reason. I was prepared to shun Lydia not only because I blamed her for all that happened, but because I believed that a man of my station does not claim connections to a farmer. I now see how wrong I was. A man's worth is not determined by his place in society. You are a good man. You took Lydia as your wife under less than desirable circumstances. You did not have to do that, sir."

"You made it to my advantage to do so, and my boys needed a mother."

"We both know that your decision was based on your estimation of Lydia's suitability to raise your sons, not financial gain. It was an honourable decision."

"Be that as it may, I understand why you did what you did, Mr. Darcy. If you insist on offering an apology, I can do nothing but accept it for myself and my family."

"Thank you. Will you allow me to belatedly welcome you, your wife, and your sons to my family?" Darcy extended his hand to Mr. Pritchford, who shyly but firmly grasped it in his own.

"I would like to discuss some other matters at another time, if you are willing to listen to me," Darcy said to him.

"My pleasure, sir."

Darcy waited for the other men to speak.

"As a Christian, I am required to forgive you, Darcy," Bingley said at last, albeit tersely. "We have known each other too long to allow this to be between us. Still, I must tell you that you have greatly disappointed me."

"I have greatly disappointed many people."

"Yes, you have. And Mr. Bennet is correct; you owe the women of our family an apology."

"I will give it to them, but I must speak to Elizabeth first. Will you grant me until tomorrow?"

Mr. Gardiner answered for Bingley. "Yes, Mr. Darcy. In this matter, your wife comes first."

"Thank you." He bowed, relieved that the first steps toward reconciliation had begun, and was about to suggest that they return to the ladies when Mr. Bennet spoke.

"I have one more question." Mr. Bennet was not ready to relent. "For whom is the child named?"

"Her grandmothers and her godmother."

"Elizabeth was surprised. Did you not discuss it with her?"

"No, sir. Only the child's first name, Anne, after my late mother."

"When did you decide to include my wife's name?"

Darcy again looked his father-in-law in the eye. "The first time that I held my daughter in my arms."

Posted on 2009-12-08

After all their guests had retired, Darcy and Elizabeth settled under the covers of her bed. Elizabeth was overjoyed that all her family was with her – and at Pemberley! She was intensely curious as to how it came about, but exhausted enough to wait until the morrow for an explanation.

Darcy wished he could just let her sleep, but he had given his word, and he did not want to wait.

"Elizabeth, I know you are tired, but we need to talk."

"About our guests?"

"Among many things, yes."

Elizabeth turned and looked at her husband. "I was surprised and worried when they arrived. I thought you would believe that I had asked them to come. I would never disobey you like that."

"I know you would not. It grieves me that you even need say that to me. I should never have put you in a position to fear my reaction about anything. I wanted to surprise you, not frighten you. I am sorry. I assumed that you would comprehend that I had sent for them."

"Why would I? You were very clear when you returned from Lydia's wedding that all discourse with my family was at an end."

A look of pain crossed Darcy's face. "Elizabeth, I give you my word that when I went to London to find Lydia, my only purpose was to rescue her from Wickham and find a husband for her somewhere far from London and Derbyshire. I had no thought then of breaking with your family. It was not until the scandal became public that I made the only choice I believed possible at that time."

"I know you did. I understood your reasoning and never doubted your belief in the rightness of your actions."

"My dear wife, you are far too generous." Darcy briefly smiled before his demeanour again grew serious. "We both know that I did have a choice. I made an unconscionable decision, then compounded my blunder by demanding that you fulfil your marital vows and obey me without question. I commanded that you repudiate nearly your entire family, and in doing so, caused you and them untold anguish. I cannot think of it without abhorrence."

Neither spoke for several moments.

"Is this why you invited my family to Pemberley?" asked Elizabeth softly.

"Yes. I … I have much to atone for. I know I have hurt you deeply."

Elizabeth bit her lip. "You have been honest with me. I shall be honest with you. Though I understood why you did what you did, that did not make it easier for me to accept." Here she paused; Darcy waited for her to continue. Whatever she said, he knew he deserved no mercy. "My heart ached with the loss of my family. It ached even more with the loss of you. It was as if, when you cast them away, you cast me away too."

Oh, God, help me answer her truthfully, yet not make her hate me.

"I was angry and I took some of my anger out on you. I know it was wrong of me. I blamed you for something beyond your control." Darcy rolled onto his back. Suddenly he was aware of how very tired he was. He rubbed his face with both his hands, then ran them through his hair. "How I have wronged you." He sighed and rolled over to face her again. She deserved to see him say what he must say. He shook his head.

"I am no gentleman. Callously, I all but abandoned you when you needed me most. Yes, Elizabeth, although I refused to acknowledge it for an incredibly long time, I am very aware of how alone I left you. You were confined to Pemberley, with no women of the family in the area but Amelia – and she was unavailable for most of that time. Worst of all, I knew you were unhappy. I … I heard you cry the night I returned, and I wilfully refused to comfort you. What a husband I have been to you!

"And all the more distressing, I blamed your family, especially your father, for disgracing the Darcy name when it is I who should be ashamed. I spoke of honour and duty, yet when it came to doing my duty to my wife, I failed you completely. I did not honour you."

He was mortified, but he would not look away. His wife saw the anguish on his face. It was she who could not look him in the eye and dropped her gaze.

"Fitzwilliam, I appreciate your taking responsibility for your actions, but you cannot absolve my family for theirs, nor me for mine. I am fully aware of my parents' failures when it comes to their children. Lydia should have known better than to run off, unmarried, with any man. She did know better but refused to do what was right! My father should not have let her go to Brighton. You and I both know that she was too young to be out, much less away from her family with a woman as young as Mrs. Forster for a chaperone. My father was wrong to let her go, and my mother even more so for encouraging the decision."

Darcy was unwilling to allow Elizabeth to shift the conversation away from his misdeeds; he was in need of confession, not excuses for his behaviour. "Elizabeth, how can you blame yourself for your parents' and sister's actions?"

"I do not blame myself for that. I blame myself for my silent acquiescence to the situation. I said that I understood why you made your choices, but that does not mean I approved of those choices. If I loved you as I claimed, I should have challenged you and I did not. If you believe that you misused my marriage vows you, I am just as guilty of hiding behind those same vows to avoid conflict."

"If you had said something to me, I would not have listened. I was too convinced that I was right. I would not have allowed that I could have been wrong. I gave you little choice to behave differently. This is another of my sins against you. I was willing to dwell on the faults of others, but unwilling to admit my own. I do see them now, clearly. I want to be a man worthy to be your husband, my dear wife. To that end I have set about correcting my mistakes, as much as I am able."

"Starting with reuniting me with my family?"

"There was no better place to begin."

"What wrought such a change?" Elizabeth asked.

"Anne," Darcy said simply, and then explained further at the uncomprehending look on Elizabeth's face. "I should say the circumstances surrounding her birth. You were asleep when I came into your chambers after she was born. When … when I held our beautiful little girl something … broke inside me. I … I finally saw my folly and understood what I had done to you and what I had denied you – what I would be denying our daughter unless I could heal the breach with your family and regain your good opinion. I knew what I must do to show you that I had repented from my wretched conduct."

Darcy took a deep breath; it was time. He had confessed his transgressions. Now he must beg for her mercy.

"Elizabeth, I have been supremely arrogant and selfish, and I most humbly importune you to accept my apology. I am not yet deserving of your forgiveness."

She raised her hand to caress his face and smiled, though there was a hint of sadness in her expression. "Darling, do you not know that I have already forgiven you?"

"How?" he said in wonder.

"I came to understand that I must forgive if I was to find peace – and I have." At this pronouncement, her countenance changed and the full intensity of her love poured forth as she beheld him.

Tears threatened to spill from his eyes as Darcy was nearly overwhelmed with emotion. She still loved him. Despite everything that he had done, she still loved him. He could not speak for want of words. "Elizabeth, I do not deserve you," he said softly.

She smiled again, this time without any sign of regret. The look she gave him was one of compassion.

"It could not have been easy to bring my family here."

"You are mistaken; there was nothing easier in the world," he said passionately, willing Elizabeth to understand he would move heaven and earth for her. "The difficulty lay in facing them. They are justifiably angry with me and I expect they will remain so for some time. I apologized to the men tonight, and I will apologize to your sisters, your mother, and your aunt tomorrow, but I do not expect them to welcome me back with open arms. It will take time to earn their absolution."

"Was it so very awful?" she asked quietly.

Darcy laughed mirthlessly. "It was nothing more than I deserved. I had not fully considered the ramifications of my actions upon them. Your father was exceedingly explicit. I hope never to earn such warranted hostility again."

"I did notice a certain coolness towards you when the gentlemen rejoined us after dinner this evening. I rather guessed that words had been exchanged. I am surprised that you did not make a clean breast of it tonight and speak to my mother, sisters, and Aunt Gardiner."

"I would have, but after I was thoroughly berated by the gentlemen, I believed that I needed to apologize to you first. I asked for and was granted the delay in approaching the women. Your father agreed that you deserved to hear my admission of guilt.

"Elizabeth, you may wonder why I have not confessed all this to you before, why I waited so long after I realized my failures. I considered telling you on the night that Anne was born. But I comprehended that I needed to first demonstrate to you that I am willing to change. And so I wrote to your family and requested they come to Pemberley. I am sure they thought I was rather imperious in my entreaties, but it could not be helped. There were more people involved in this than you and me. Thus, I brought those others involved, your family, here, so that I could apologize to each of them and to tell them how very much I regret the pain that I have caused. I wronged all of you."

Darcy took her hand in his. The next part would be painful to admit. "Elizabeth, I also know that you have carried a black ribbon on your person to mourn the loss of your family." Elizabeth gasped. "I am ashamed that such should have been necessary. It was only after reuniting your family here at Pemberley that we could begin to heal the desolation that I inflicted upon us. We shared something remarkable before this … this hell I put us through. I long for its complete return."

"Dearest, so do I. So do I!" Darcy brushed a tear off Elizabeth's cheek. She took his hand and placed a kiss on his palm. "And I thank you, with all my being, for restoring my family to me, and to Anne."

He shook his head. "Do not thank me for righting a wrong, a wrong of my own doing."

"But I must, for my heart is overflowing with gratitude."

"Ask of me anything, anything, and it shall be done."

Elizabeth appeared lost in thought. He waited, and when she spoke, her question surprised him.

"Why did you change the name we agreed upon for Anne?"

"Anne's name is another way for me to atone for the discord I caused. I hope you approve? You were not expecting it."

"No, I did not. But I was very happy."

"I was persuaded of what it should be on the night our daughter was born. As I told you, that was when I realized that I had been utterly and completely wrong, and that I had taken from you what I had no right to take. Do you know what else I realized that night?"

Elizabeth shook her head.

"I finally understood how much you love me. You told me, all those many months ago, but I never appreciated the depth of your commitment. I was able to look back and recognise how, in even the smallest things, you proved your affections. I was not able to accept it for what it was until I looked into the face of our newborn child and saw our family and our future reflected in her features, your features. In you, my family has been reborn." He stopped to compose himself.

"My precious Elizabeth, the day you told me that you loved me, I stupidly told you not to expect a return of those feelings. Darling, even then I denied the true condition of my heart. It belongs fully, completely, irrevocably to you alone."

He paused only a moment. "I love you."

Elizabeth felt a gentle nudge on her shoulder. "Mistress," Marie whispered. "Mrs. Darcy, the baby is fussing and will not quiet. I believe that she wants to be fed."

Darcy was sound asleep next to her and Elizabeth did not wish to wake him. She slipped out of bed and donned the robe that her maid held out for her before she ambled through the door that led to the nursery. Alice was walking about with Anne in her arms, trying to calm the babe. Tired though she was, Elizabeth smiled as she settled into a chair and was handed her daughter. Soon all that was heard were the tiny sounds of a suckling child.

Elizabeth closed her eyes in contentment, and allowed herself to rejoice in the events of the previous hours.

He loves me!

She knew that she would always remember how she felt at the moment that her husband declared what was in his heart.

"I love you."

Three words she had feared she would never hear him speak. Three words with the power to fill her with complete and utter joy.

They had been lying on her bed facing each other when he told her. At first Elizabeth was unable to move, unable to think. Throughout his speech, her hopes had risen, but she hardly dared believe that her greatest wish would finally be fulfilled. When the reality of his declaration registered, she flew into his arms – sobbing.

"How I have longed to hear you say those words to me. I love you so very much."

"No more tears, my dearest love. You have already spilt too many because of me." There was true contrition in his voice. "I am sorry for the pain I have brought you."

Darcy held his wife to him, deeply unsettled by the knowledge that he was the cause of her distress. "Please do not cry," and with a catch in his voice he vowed, "I promise to be a better man for your sake."

These last words caused Elizabeth to lift her head and look at his face. She could see, in the dim light, the unshed tears in his eyes.

"Oh, beloved, these are tears of joy and relief. They are a gentle waterfall washing away the sadness. You love me, Fitzwilliam! You love me and have done everything in your power to repair your mistakes because of it. I want for nothing!"

Elizabeth Darcy watched as her declaration unleashed her husband's tears. She pulled him to her and simply held him until his sobbing stopped.

Slowly he drew away. "Better?" she asked. He would not look at her. "Do you feel better now?" she asked again, wondering why he would not look at her after all they had shared.

"I am sorry, I should never have …"

Comprehension dawned. "Fitzwilliam, look at me!" Elizabeth demanded. Darcy reluctantly obeyed and she saw shame on his face. Instinctively, she put her hands on his cheeks, his beard scratching against her palms. "You are a proud man, Fitzwilliam Darcy, and I know that you think tears from a man are a sign of weakness. They are not. There is no more intimate way that you could show that you love me than to allow me to see you in your distress. I do not think less of you as a man; I respect you all the more. You have given me your love – give me your sorrows and concerns, as well as your hopes and your dreams. Let me be your mate in every way."

He looked at her, his eyes a window to the turmoil within him. She waited, and was rewarded when she saw the storm receding. A tremulous smile pulled at his lips.

"I do not deserve you," he whispered again.

"Perhaps not, but I am yours anyway." Elizabeth pulled his face to hers and kissed him with all the tenderness and assurance that was within her.

They were both exhausted when he tucked her body next to his. They slept.

Elizabeth finished feeding Anne, left her in the care of her nurse, and returned to her husband. She slipped back under the covers and immediately moved to lie next to Darcy. Without waking, he pulled her back into his arms. She was asleep again in minutes.

The next morning, Darcy fulfilled his pledge to apologize to the other women. Elizabeth stood by his side throughout, demonstrating that they had reconciled their differences. Mr. Bennet explained that Darcy had already spoken to the gentlemen and that they had accepted Darcy's apologies. For Elizabeth's sake, and as the first step toward familial reconciliation, he urged the ladies to do the same, no matter how unwilling they might be to do so.

Jane, Lydia, and Mrs. Gardiner had already been told by their spouses of the encounter in the library the evening before and were thus more prepared to act. Lydia Pritchford, very much aware of her role in causing the breach, was the first to speak. She surprised everyone but her husband by asking Darcy's forgiveness in return, with an eloquence and humility that touched everyone's heart. One by one, the remaining ladies addressed Darcy, and one by one extended tentative absolution.

Although these first steps held the promise of a happy resolution of months of discord, it was many days before awkwardness gave way to the beginning of acceptance. Lingering acrimony initially threatened the fragile peace, but in the end, the unspoilt innocence of a newborn babe and a genuine desire by the principals to start anew prevailed. Harmony was at last restored.

Frank Pritchford was obliged to return to Devon only a week after his arrival at Pemberley. Mr. Bennet and Bingley offered to escort Lydia and the boys back to their home, if he consented to allow them to stay behind. Pritchford was willing to give his wife the extra time with her family, and he acknowledged how much his children enjoyed the attentions lavished upon them by her family, especially Mr. Darcy.

Darcy asked him into a private conference a few days before he left.

"Pritchford, thank you for agreeing to meet with me. I have asked you here today because I want to help you and my sister."

"Sir, you have already been more than generous."

"Let me be the judge of that. I have been considering how I might best be able to help your family in a lasting way. I have thought about the differences in our stations that are but an accident of birth. I am well aware that I had many advantages as the child of a gentleman that you have not, nor will your children. However, I have it within my power to bestow upon your sons a gift, as my father once did for the son of his steward."

"What might that be?"

"An education, Pritchford. I am willing to sponsor both of your sons, and any more your wife might bear you. Obviously, this will require both books and tutors. When Thomas is old enough, I will arrange for his studies with the ultimate goal of attending University, or, if he prefers, an apprenticeship or commission. Perhaps a governess might be in order now? That would certainly be a help with any daughters that might come as well."

"I cannot provide an appropriate room for a proper governess."

Darcy did not hesitate. "I will send my man to see what needs to be done to rectify that. You shall have a governess if that is your wish."

"I … I do not know what to say. A proper education for my boys? It is more than I could ever have dreamt! Thank you, sir! I will see that you never regret this. I swear it!"

"My only stipulation is that you impress upon your sons that this is an opportunity, not a birthright. The boy my father sponsored was the man who seduced your wife, Pritchford. He became an ungovernable, ungracious scoundrel who expected to be given all that he wanted in life, not earn it by honest means. His father was a good man, but he was blind to his son's lack of character. Fortunately, he did not live to see what a rogue his son became. I do not want your children to repeat the mistakes of the last beneficiary of Darcy patronage."

Pritchford extended his hand. "On my honour, sir, I will see to it that they understand that what they have been given is a means and not an end. I will do my utmost to raise them as men of character and honour, sir, as you are."

Darcy's determination to help improve the lot of his Bennet family did not end with his offer to educate the Pritchford children. He had two unmarried sisters at Longbourn, but he was wary of approaching Mr. Bennet with any offer of help, no matter how benign his intentions. His father-in-law had been thoroughly disgusted the last time Darcy had spoken to him about the behaviour of his family, and he was at a loss at how to raise the subject again. Fortunately, he was becoming more open with his wife, and it was Elizabeth who suggested a solution.

"I think my father would accept an offer if it came from me."

"I mean to do more than just invite Mary and Catherine to stay with us, Elizabeth. I am more than willing to employ the appropriate masters for them and provide the funds needed to send them to school, if that would appeal to your father."

"It would, I believe, under the right circumstances. However, I want you present when I speak to him. He must see us united in our purpose to understand that the offer is kindly meant and that he is the one who will determine how far our patronage will extend."

"Tomorrow we will seek him out. I believe we will need look no further than the library?"

Elizabeth laughed. Her husband was becoming more adept at teasing her and she enjoyed this more playful side of the man she loved.

The next morning after breakfast, Elizabeth and Darcy, to neither's surprise, found her father alone in the library.

"I would never have guessed that I would find you here, Papa."

Mr. Bennet smiled at his second daughter. She was a beautiful woman, married and a mother herself, but she would always be his little Lizzy. He saw that her husband was with her, and his smile instantly faded. He acknowledged Darcy with a curt nod of his head.

"Papa, Fitzwilliam and I would like to invite Mary to stay with us when it is time for everyone to leave. We plan to remain at Pemberley until spring and will be happy to bring Mary back to Longbourn at that time, or arrange to return her sooner if you desire her at home."

Mr. Bennet pursed his lips and looked back and forth between Elizabeth and Darcy. "Have you spoken to your sister about this?"

"No, sir, we wished to receive your blessing first. I have not forgotten your censure for my approaching Elizabeth with an offer of marriage without seeking your permission before hand," Darcy answered.

"Touchι, Mr. Darcy. We both have long memories. However, I see no reason why Mary cannot stay, though Kitty might be disappointed to be the sister who remains at home once again. She was most disappointed when I allowed Lydia to go to Brighton as Mrs. Forster's particular friend." Mr. Bennet frowned at the thought. He knew that his behaviour had not been above reproach. It was time to confess his culpability.

"I am quite aware that I made a terrible mistake letting Lydia go to Brighton. She had neither the sense nor the experience to be off on her own."

Darcy and Elizabeth exchanged startled looks but remained silent at this unexpected turn in the conversation.

"Mr. Darcy, I know I was rather severe on you that first night here at Pemberley, and you probably wanted to rant and storm that you were not the only guilty party. I gave you no quarter to do so, though you could have made a strong case against me. The actions you took were the result of a situation of my making. I acknowledge that. Nevertheless, it neither absolves you for the choices you made, nor does it absolve me from the years of neglect that led to Lydia's running off with Wickham." Mr. Bennet paused and shook his head. "I suppose that I just wanted to hold on a little longer to my resentment for what you did to Elizabeth and all my family. Your subsequent restoration of my daughter to us and your willingness to humble yourself to each of us were proof that you are the better man. I know myself well enough to realize that I could never have done what you did. I would have hid myself among my books and tried to ignore what happened."

Mr. Bennet walked over to Darcy. He extended his hand towards the younger man. Darcy grasped it immediately. "I would be honoured to leave Mary under your protection and care."

"Thank you, sir."

"Can you forgive me?" Mr. Bennet made certain to hold Darcy's gaze.

"If you can forgive me."

"Then it is done."

Darcy nodded and they broke their handshake. Elizabeth looked relieved at the sight of the two most important men in her life making peace and, with tears in her eyes, hugged her father. After they had all sat down, Darcy continued the conversation about Mary's stay.

"Mr. Bennet, Elizabeth has requested that a piano master come to Pemberley to help her. I do not know if you are aware of the amount of time your daughter has spent practicing since we married. Her playing, while always delightful, has improved greatly. However, she tells me that she is in need of instruction if she is to progress. And because I have come to know that my wife is never wrong, I have engaged a master as per her wishes. If it is agreeable to you, I would like Mary to avail herself of the piano master while she is with us. That is, if Mary wishes it as well."

Mr. Bennet was pleased with Darcy's playful verbiage. Elizabeth deserved a husband who matched her wit and intelligence. He could tell the couple were trying very hard to not appear overbearing in their requests.

"I think it is a sensible idea, Mr. Darcy."

"Just Darcy, sir."

"Darcy then. You may call me Bennet."

"With all due respect, you are my wife's father. I would feel discourteous to be more familiar in address."

The corners of Mr. Bennet's mouth twitched. Darcy might have been more tolerant of his family's foibles, but the young man still held fast to his ideals about propriety. As well he should. Mr. Bennet was not offended, only amused at the staidness of his son-in-law's character.

"As long as we are on the subject of masters, Mr. Bennet, and at the risk of once again offending you, I would like to offer my assistance in employing any masters as might be appropriate for my two unmarried sisters. You should know that I have spoken to Pritchford and arranged to become patron to his sons in their education, as well as provide for a governess for the children. I take my responsibility to my family seriously and I am ready to assist as you deem fit."

"That is a very generous offer. I have always made whatever masters my daughters desired available to them."

"I have conveyed that to Fitzwilliam, but he insists, and I am in agreement, that while my sisters dwell with us, we should bear the burden of the expense. One that we hope you will accept, Father," Elizabeth interjected. "I assure you that my husband's motives are sincere; he only wishes to be of use to his sisters. He has also told me that he would even pay for them to go to school, but felt you might not be ready to hear that."

"Elizabeth …" Darcy started to interrupt.

"Fitzwilliam, I am the one offering, not you. Well, I am offering your money," Elizabeth said gaily. "Papa, think about it, please?"

"I shall. Perhaps Kitty would like to go away to school. Do you have any place in mind?"

"None at all," Darcy replied. "I leave it to you to decide if and where. My sister Georgiana was in an educational establishment for girls for a time, but that was a few years ago and she was much younger than either Mary or Catherine."

"And Kitty is just as welcome as Mary to stay with us, either in Town or here at Pemberley," Elizabeth added as Darcy nodded his agreement.

"I believe that one of your sisters at a time is more than enough, Elizabeth. Just wait until your mother hears of this. You know she will be disappointed if either one returns to Longbourn without at least one offer of marriage from a rich gentleman."

The day dawned clear and brisk when Anne Harriet Amelia Darcy was officially christened in the Pemberley church. The Bennet clan had arrived three weeks before, and after Darcy apologized to all the members of his family, a happy chaos descended on the once quiet mansion. Darcy's confession to Elizabeth of his undying love had brought the couple close again. Their friendship deepened as their love blossomed and bloomed in the crisp Derbyshire autumn. It seemed serendipitous to celebrate the renewal of the Darcy family with the baptism of the firstborn of the next generation of Darcy descendants.

The Reverend John Mitchell officiated as the youngest Darcy was brought to the ancient stone font to receive the sacrament. Darcy's cousin, Bartholomew, and his wife, Amelia, Darcy's lifelong friend, stood as the child's godparents. The small building was full of joy and the presence of family, friends, and a few fortunate servants.

Elizabeth stood next to her husband, watching the wise old parson say his blessing over her daughter. Her attention was caught by the light flooding through windows, and she recalled her desperate search for solace in this holy place. So much had changed. In the quiet of this sanctuary, she had discovered the meaning of forgiveness, acceptance, and selflessness. She would not wish to enter such a valley of shadows again, but she was grateful that she had come through to see the view from the other side. There would always be trials. She knew enough about life to appreciate that now.

Walking back to Pemberley, Darcy turned to look again at the building they had just left.

"I have always considered the church a plain, quaint building in comparison to the style of the house. Perhaps it is time to see to its ornamentation."

"Darling, I would rather you leave it as it is."

"Elizabeth, I feel a bit ashamed that nothing has been done to improve it in my lifetime."

"Have you looked at the windows? Your ancestors have given many to the church."

"Yes, they have. As a boy, I was always more entranced by them than by the sermons, I am afraid."

"Do you not see, then, that the beauty of the building is a matter of perspective? One can only appreciate it from inside. Is that not the goal of the building, to bring the people of Pemberley within its walls to worship? What you perceive as a flaw in its character is only a hindrance if you do not seek the beauty within."

"Your point is?"

"It reminds me of you."

At last, all of the guests with the exception of Mary departed, and the small family party settled into a comfortable regime. The days grew shorter, but the pleasure Elizabeth felt with her younger sister's company did not diminish. Mary grew less rigidly moralistic as she was exposed to the contents of Pemberley's magnificent library. She still favoured religious works, but now she could avail herself of the writings of men with a more compassionate view of humanity and the God who had created them.

Elizabeth's days included her sister and her daughter, but once she retired for the evening, only her husband held her attention. Now healed from the birthing, Elizabeth was eager to resume her most intimate marital duties. Darcy was equally eager, but he had waited for Elizabeth to fully regain her health. He also wished for privacy to begin anew; he had something special in mind to mark the occasion of the consummation of their love. Mary's presence in the household was no impediment; the girl was content to let the married couple retire early as often as they wished.

After dinner one evening, Darcy escorted Elizabeth to her room, but before they entered, he swept his wife off her feet and into his arms. She tucked her head into his chest and giggled but was surprised when Darcy turned and began walking away from their chambers.

"Fitzwilliam, where are we going?"

"Have you no guesses, my love?"

She was unsure until he took a turn to a certain wing of the house. She gasped.

Darcy strode through the entry into the Wales Bedroom and set Elizabeth back down on her feet. He closed and leaned against the massive door. A fire crackled in the grate.

"I know that I brought you here before, but we really should not be here," Elizabeth whispered.

"There is no better place be, my Elizabeth, for you alone reign over my heart."

Darcy knelt before his wife. In an action meant to sear their vows forever in their hearts, he took her left hand in his own and brought his lips to the wedding ring that she wore.

"With my body, I thee worship."

Then did he worship her, enveloped in their love, as he had never done before.

When Lady Victoria came to Pemberley for the christening of little Anne, she had a private interview with her nephew and Elizabeth. The couple told her of the events of the past months and asked for her advice. Lady Victoria knew that Darcy would prefer to remain outside the critical eyes of the ton, but she also knew that such a course would be a mistake. To stay away would be to admit they deserved to be ostracized by society, and only increase the whispers whenever they did return to Town in the future. She advised them to remain in Derbyshire until the spring, then return to London for the season. Their absence during the winter months could easily be attributed to the newborn, but as soon as the weather improved, Lady Victoria said, they should journey south. The sooner that the couple re-entered society, the better. Thus, with the sunny days of March, Mr. and Mrs. Fitzwilliam Darcy, accompanied by their young daughter and Mary, returned to their townhouse by way of Meryton.

Word of the journey of the Darcys to Hertfordshire spread like lightening, and the Bennets were once more declared the most fortunate of families. Talk about Lydia's failed elopement receded, replaced by such things as the speculation on the cost of the lace on Mrs. Darcy's gowns and whether Mrs. Bingley might be in the family way – and astonishment over how much Mary Bennet's pianoforte skills had improved.

The Darcys gradually eased back into London society, dining with friends and entertaining at home. Next, they ventured out to several balls and a few nights at the theatre. They noticed the whispers when they first entered a room, but the novelty of their presence in Town soon wore off. They saw the proof of Lady Victoria's wisdom when some other subject of gossip inevitably usurped their place of attention.

A few weeks later, the Bennets and Bingleys followed the Darcys to Town. Not long after, Darcy suggested that they all, plus the Gardiners, make use of the Darcy box at the Theatre Royal in Covent Garden for an evening of opera.

In a box on the other side of the auditorium, the Earl of Perryton frowned when he saw his wayward nephew arrive. The countess noticed as well and began to bemoan the event to the woman at her side. The earl was still furious with Darcy and could not believe that his nephew had the presumption to be there that evening. Disgraced relatives had a duty to remain unseen, in his opinion. He thought he recognised Darcy's guests from the previous season and Mrs. Darcy's ball, but could not be sure; he assumed that they must be Darcy's wife's relations. He saw that others also had noticed the Darcy party, and he could see society women, ladies whose opinion the earl knew mattered, watching them, furiously whispering behind their fans. Fuming over this perceived slight to his standing, the earl failed to note the entrance of an infamous courtesan, or of the man escorting her. His wife did not. A few minutes later, he was surprised to hear his wife abusing someone other than his nephew. That was when he realized that he was the only one paying the Darcys any attention; there was a much more deliciously scandalous party in attendance now.

The warning bell rang and five minutes later the orchestra began the overture. The audience's attention was drawn to the stage as the curtains parted. The earl could not concentrate on the performance; his eyes kept returning to the Darcys. Unable to stop himself, he raised his opera glasses and looked more closely at his prey. The light was sufficient for him to make them out across the auditorium. His gaze was suddenly arrested when his nephew leaned over to whisper something to his wife. Before sitting back in his seat, Darcy gently kissed Elizabeth's ear. She turned and smiled, bringing his fingers up to her lips for a kiss of her own. She had obviously been holding her husband's hand.

The earl felt as though he was intruding on a very private moment, but he could not bring himself to look away. He saw the look of passion and adoration that passed between husband and wife, as if no one else were in the building except the two of them, before they turned their attention back to the performance.

"Harold, stop looking at them. People will notice!" Alice Fitzwilliam hissed. Harold Fitzwilliam, Earl of Perryton, looked at his wife in annoyance. He hated it when the witless woman was right.

Yet he could not forget the look that Darcy had exchanged with his Elizabeth, and for the first time, faltered in his opinion that his nephew's marriage had been a grievous mistake. From the look on his face, Darcy would disagree with anyone who said that he was not the most fortunate man in England in his choice of wife. The same could not be said of the earl.

George Wickham stood in the Chapel of St John's Cathedral waiting for his bride. When he arrived in Antigua, he had been presented with a letter in which Darcy offered one thousand pounds in exchange for his pledge never to return to England. Wickham sent his acceptance, even though he knew that Darcy would be furious when he learned about the missives that had been left with his accomplice and doubted that he would ever see the money. He was quite amused when, little more than a year later, he received a second letter from Darcy. It was short and to the point.

You may not be a man of honour, but I am.

FD

Enclosed were the promised funds.

Wickham could not believe his good fortune. His old playmate carried duty and honour to the extreme. The fool, he thought. Considering the windfall a sign from providence, Wickham took the money and entered a high stakes card game. Luck was with him, and he left that night with five times what he had brought to the tables. With a considerable sum now in his possession, he embarked upon a new quest to achieve what he had previously tried to accomplish – to woo and wed a woman of means.

Today marked the culmination of his schemes. He was marrying the only child of the wealthy and aging owner of a large plantation on the island. The girl had just come into society, and her naοvetι was no match for the charm of the army officer. Wickham had taken great pains to be seen as a suitable match; he had at last learned the importance of a certain amount of discretion in the conduct of his affairs, and the girl's father was too ill and too proud to give credence to the gossip that might have spared his daughter such a husband.

George Wickham would never want for money again.

Epilogue

Christmas Day, 1814

Elizabeth finished nursing her infant son. Robert George Charles Darcy was a healthy five-month-old baby, his older sister now a very precocious two-year-old. Darcy sat at a nearby desk writing a letter. Elizabeth could not imagine being any happier or more content. She wanted for no material possession, her husband adored her, her children were her pride and joy.

"Have you finished?"

"I am closing it now," Darcy replied. "Would you like to read it before I seal it?"

"If you do not mind, I would."

Darcy sanded the page, then handed it to Elizabeth. She read this, his annual missive, eager to see what he had written.

Christmas Morning, 1814

Dear Father,

Another Christmas has arrived, and I sit down yet again to write to you. It is difficult for me to believe that this is the eighth Yuletide since your passing. I remember the feelings of despair that your absence so regularly engendered. I still miss you, but my life has become so filled with my own family now that I must confess that those times have become less frequent. Those I hold dear could never replace you, but they have enriched my life in ways that, as a father, you would easily understand. I never anticipated the deep emotions that I felt the first time I held my daughter and then my son. You are a grandfather again. Elizabeth was safely delivered of a boy on the 20th of July.

Pemberley rings with the laughter of children. I hope and pray that even more will come as the years go by.

I am content and happy. The only thing I lack is the presence of loved ones, such as you, Mother and Georgiana, who no longer walk this earth.

Three Christmases ago, I wrote to tell you that I would marry in a few days and that you would not be pleased with my choice of wife. Two Christmases ago, I told you that I had hurt my wife deeply, but by the grace of God she had forgiven me. Last Christmas, I revealed how I had spent many months atoning for my failures of the previous years, and how confident I was that the life I share with my wife would grow in meaning and purpose. This Christmas, I wish you could be here to see how happy she has made me. Pemberley and its people are thriving, most especially its master and mistress. Elizabeth loves me completely, as I have learned to love her. Because of her devotion, I have become a better man.

Some might call me a romantic fool. So be it. Such as they can never know the ecstasy of unconditional love. I pity them.

Until next time, your besotted, content son,

Fitzwilliam

With a tear in her eye and love in her heart, Elizabeth returned the letter to her husband. Together they walked to the fireplace, a sleeping Robert in his mother's arms. Smiling, Darcy consigned the missive to the flames. Husband and wife watched the parchment catch fire and be consumed, knowing full well that it was only through their willingness to embrace love that their marriage and their lives had been spared a similar fate.