Beginning, Previous Section, Section IV
Jump to new as of August 13, 2000
Jump to new as of August 19, 2000
Jump to new as of August 21, 2000
Peter took the stairs two at a time, whistling a merry tune as he neared his father's study. He felt wonderful. His eye had healed nicely and was now barely noticeable. He had had two productive mornings of shooting in a row. His mother had finally put all her differences aside with him, although she mostly had before. The doctor had returned and proclaimed Sydney with a clean bill of health.
In truth, the only thing wrong with the past few days was Sydney herself. Ever since the night he had come in from London and she had acted so strange, Sydney had been avoiding him. She was not ignoring him but would not sit down and talk to him one on one, which puzzled him. But it did more than puzzle him. It disappointed him. He had missed out on weeks of her companionship when she had left with her relatives, and now she did not seem to want to make it up.
He gave a hearty hello to Liza, slapped Jonathan and Ben on their backs, and gave his mother a bear hug. Elizabeth laughed and took a good look at her son. She smiled inwardly to herself. Peter certainly had changed from the sulky, moping, young man of three weeks ago. She did not have to think very hard to realize what person- or girl- had changed him.
Peter stopped short down the hallway as he spied what was happening in the doorway of the study. His father, towering over Sydney's short frame much as he himself did, was speaking seriously with her. She answered back just as seriously. This continued on for several moments until Fitzwilliam Darcy shook her hand and then leaned down and gave her a fatherly kiss on the cheek. Sydney smiled at him, curtsied, and walked away, Peter unseen in the morning shadows of the hall.
Peter waited until she was out of sight and then cleared his throat and took a few steps closer. His father looked up almost guiltily and a look of surprise filtered through his face.
"Peter! I did not know you were there," he said hastily, giving his oldest son a strained smile. "How long have you been here?"
Peter eyed his father. "Not long. I was just coming to speak with you."
"Will you accompany me to the drawing room? Reynolds just informed me your mother needs to speak with me also."
Peter nodded and stepped into sync with his father's stride. He was dying to ask him what he and Sydney had been talking about. It was obvious an important conversation and it perturbed him a little bit that she did not come to him first.
"You wanted to speak with me, son?" Darcy asked.
"Oh, yes. I was just going to ask if you had spoken to Sydney's lawyer yet."
Darcy looked sideways at his son. "No, I have not gotten a chance."
"I want her to be able to return to her estate whenever she wishes. I suppose it does not matter. I do not believe Sydney will be returning anytime soon."
"Why do you think that, Peter?"
"Why would she want to return to an empty house by herself when she could stay here?" It seemed quite obvious to him, although he realized he was just telling himself this because he did not want her to leave.
"I hate to be the one to break this to you, Peter, but right at this moment she is packing her bags. This is a childhood home she has not been to for five years and she is excited to go back and turn it into the happy place it used to be. Surely you cannot expect her to stay here her whole life!"
"Sydney cannot take charge of that house by herself!" Peter exclaimed.
Darcy raised an eyebrow. "You have a lot of faith in her."
Peter rolled his eyes. "I have a large amount of faith in her...She just cannot do that by herself."
Darcy raised his eyebrow again and gave him a pointed look. Peter turned red to his hairline. He could almost read his father's mind: She would not have to do it herself if someone would marry her. Peter had thought that people were off his back for that.
"I thought you had given that up, father."
"Peter, you really confuse me. You do not want to marry Sydney, yet you expect her to live at this house forever."
Peter threw his father an angry look and stalked off to his room. Slamming the door, he started his pacing. He did not expect Sydney to stay at the house forever...just longer than this. Sitting down on his bed, he closed his eyes and imagined a day without Sydney. It was not hard to imagine, since for the past month or so it had happened, but he had still thought about her every day. Twenty four hours without Sydney, without even thinking of Sydney, was inconceivable to him now.
He sighed. What had happened to him? Before Sydney had come, he had never really cared about anyone. Not in the way where he did not love his family or friends, but in a way where he had never showed it to anyone past his relations- or sometimes even them. He had gone through life taking advantage of friendships. Now the one friendship he wanted to keep so badly was slipping out of his grasp. Again. Why had he taken it for granted?
He walked to his window and looked out. He saw Liza and Sydney taking a walk near the house. Their heads were close together and they seemed to be having the same discussion Sydney had just had with his father. They had stopped now. Was Liza crying? Peter peered closer at them, feeling completely guiltless at spying on them. Sydney grabbed her hands and spoke with her for a few minutes until Liza was smiling. Suddenly, Liza pointed up at his window. Peter dove behind his curtain. Had they caught him looking or had they just been talking of him?
When he ventured to look out again, the two were gone. Peter sulked in his room for several more minutes. When he finally left his room, he decided he needed to speak with his mother. He did not know what he needed to speak to her about, but Elizabeth Darcy had an uncanny ability to make him talk. As he neared the drawing room, however, he saw Sydney and Elizabeth in deep conversation.
Sydney had his mother's full attention, for her sewing was sitting on her lap completely ignored. Elizabeth was smiling, but the smile did not reach her eyes. In her eyes there was an undeniable sadness. When Elizabeth was looking down, Peter saw one tear sneak it's way down Sydney's cheek where she quickly wiped it away. Elizabeth grabbed her hands, smiled at her, and gave her a motherly kiss on the cheek. Sydney stood up and turned to leave the room.
Peter quickly ducked into a room until he heard her footsteps fade away. He slipped out the doorway and followed her. She stopped at the billiard room and cleared her throat to get his brothers attention. She asked if the would escort her into the music room. She did not need to prod them anymore than that. Instantly Jonathan and Ben were at her side, taking one of her arms in each of theirs.
Peter quickly ran outdoors and into the garden. From one bench the vantage point looked directly into the music room. As usual, Sydney was having a serious talk with each brother. Jonathan and Ben looked absolutely crestfallen. Jonathan actually walked away from Sydney in seeming anger. Sydney went to him and touched him on the shoulder. Jonathan turned and gave her a hug. He only held her for a mere second, but the sight of it made Peter's blood burn.
Sydney left them in the room, inclining her head to each. Ben placed a brotherly kiss on her cheek and she departed. As Peter was coming back into the house, he was so focused on what had just occurred, he did not even notice the carriage that stood ready and waiting.
What had she said to each person? Was his turn coming next? And what was with the kissing? He needed to mull over what had happened so he took a right and went into the library. He sat in the chair facing the window and pouted. Sydney had always shared everything with him and now he was the last person to be included in her discussion. And darn it, maybe he wanted to kiss her, also! He immediately laughed at the thought. Kissing Sydney was like kissing Liza, wasn't it? He suddenly was not so positive anymore.
"Yes, Mr. Reynolds, please take it into the foyer."
Peter sat up at the sound of her voice. When he heard her footsteps going down the stairs, he got up and as he had suddenly been accustomed to, followed her. He made it down to the foyer where he saw his entire family and many of the servants surrounding Sydney, who was wearing gloves and a traveling cloak. He stood looking her with dumb silence.
"Peter," Sydney stated nervously, "I was just coming to find you."
He looked around at every member of his family, who were politely looking away.
"You were saying goodbye," he suddenly realized.
"Excuse me?"
"That is what your discussions were about. You were telling them farewell! You did not feel it in your heart to present me with one as well?" he accused.
"I was just coming to find you." she said quietly, not quite looking at him in the eyes.
"You have said that already. Sydney, may we speak in private for a moment?"
Sydney nodded and he took her arm and led her away from the spectators who were trying not to look interested, but doing a very ill job of hiding it.
"Sydney, why are you leaving?" he said bluntly, getting right to the heart of their conversation.
"I am anxious to get back to Champion."
"Champion?"
"My estate. My mother renamed it after her favorite horse."
"Oh." he paused, "Sydney, why this sudden urge to return?"
"Mrs. Andrews enquired after when I was to come and it made me want to arrive as fast as possible."
"Sydney, what is the real reason you are leaving?" he asked.
Before his eyes, Sydney turned at least four shades whiter while red at the same time. She looked absolutely mortified and it confused Peter even more.
"I cannot stay knowing that I...and that you could never..."her voice cracked and she stopped.
"Sydney, if this is about your parent's death, I do not believe you hold any responsibility."
"No, it is not about that." She suddenly seemed to get bolder and looked up at him.
"Peter, I must tell you this before I leave. I know that it will not matter to you and that you could never....Peter, I-"
She looked directly into his eyes and her sea blue met his ice blue. She stopped and immediately broke their gaze.
"You what, Sydney?"
"I...I have to go."
"That is what you were going to tell me?"
"No, I was going to say that I...that I...thank you. I thank you for everything."
"Sydney," he started, but she squeezed his hand, smiled at him, and slipped away.
He watched as she said a final farewell to everyone and then took one more glance at him. There was something in her eyes....but he could not name it. She nodded her head at him. The door was opened for her and she stepped outside.
He was still standing there, looking out the window twenty minutes later when his father came down for the evening meal. He almost walked straight past him Peter was standing so still.
"Son, is there something wrong?"
It took Peter several moments to realize his father was speaking to him and several moments more to process the words he had spoken to him.
"No, nothing is wrong." He sighed and looked out the window again.
"You know, Peter, I always thought that I had raised you three boys well. I thought that you all had plenty of brains. It seems though, that I have raised a rather dim-witted one."
Peter scowled at him. "And what is that supposed to mean, father?"
"I believe you know the story of your mother and my courtship. I may have treated her quite ill, but at least I had acknowledged to myself that I was in love with her. It helped a great deal."
"Are you saying that I am in love with Sydney?" Peter asked in surprise.
"Are you really that stupid?"
Peter tried to take offense at the insult, but he could not, for he had just realized himself how dumb he really was.
He did love Sydney. That was the reason why he suddenly felt so empty inside at the thought of her gone. He closed his eyes and an image of her beautiful, smiling face instantly materialized. Is that what she had been trying to say to him before she left? Was there any way she could be in love with him? Peter did not know how she could after seeing how dim he was. He supposed he had been in love with her for quite some time.
"Do you...do you think she might love me?" he asked hoarsely.
"By the way she looks at you, I would bet my best horse on it."
Peter suddenly grinned from ear to ear.
"Thank you, father."
He raced away.
"Where is Peter going, Fitzwilliam?" Elizabeth enquired, coming out of the dining room.
Fitzwilliam Darcy smiled. "I believe he has a carriage to catch."
Sydney was mortified with herself. She had made it into the carriage completely calm, completely under control. She had felt strong even as the carriage moved farther away from the house. It was when she finally crossed the edge of his property that she felt his loss absolutely. She had not stopped the tears then. She had not even wanted to try. How her life had changed since she met Peter Darcy. Until he had found her, she had been hopeless. She had been afraid of everything, practically her own shadow. Peter, along with his family, had taught her to believe in life once more. How the Lord works in mysterious ways, she mused.
After her father was buried, she never envisioned herself to love anyone or anything, especially as great as she loved Peter. Who would have guessed that after she finally learned again, she would fall in love with someone who could never love her back. Her tears finally dry, she contented herself with staring out the window. She instructed herself to put her chin up, bear down, and stop fretting. She had gotten over many things and this was simply one more to list.
She could do many things. After all, she had the estate and her inheritance. She had to get her home in good running order, which would take some time. She was extremely excited. She would have Champion all to herself...just her alone with all those rooms, with all the grounds, just her at the dining room table...She almost started to cry again. She did cry- in surprise as she heard the sound of horses hooves and a male voice yelling. The carriage came to a halt and the driver knocked on her window.
"Please stay in the carriage, miss, until I investigate the situation." he said.
"There would not be any trouble now, sir, would there? Why, it is not even dusk!" Sydney exclaimed.
"I would hope not, but I would feel better if I made sure you are not going to be threatened."
"Thank you, sir, but please do not put yourself in any danger. If he wants to rob me, I will give him what he wants." she said, giving him a hopeful smile as he walked away from the window.
The driver was still a ways off, screaming at the top of his lungs for the carriage to halt. Sydney sunk back in the seat, making sure her face could not be made out through the window. She said a prayer. She had no way out if the horseman happened to be Daniel Tate. In fact, she somehow knew it would be. The horse and rider came closer and then the galloping ceased. The driver started to speak, but was cut off.
"Sydney! Sydney, would you please come out?"
Sydney started at the sound of the rider's voice.
"Peter?" she asked, opening the door and stepping out slowly, as if she could not believe her eyes.
Peter literally jumped off his horse and raced to her side, taking her hands in his. She looked up at him, her heart pounding. His eyes looked so serious and yet they looked so warm. She never wanted to stray her glance ever again.
"May I ask what your business is, sir?" the driver announced with a protective tone to his voice.
Peter answered him, never taking his eyes of Sydney's face, "Why yes, you may, my good man."
"What is your business here, sir?"
"My business is standing right in front of me."
Sydney knew she blushed. She felt it and she wanted to kick herself for it. But...what was he saying? Her mind had not quite processed his words. She did not notice that her driver, with a smile on his face, walk discreetly into the woods.
"What are you doing here, Peter?" she asked a little breathlessly.
Peter smiled. "I was wondering what you really wanted to tell me before you left."
Sydney could not help but feel disappointed. It was too much to ask of him to proclaim his undying love for her and whisk her away. She was stupid to even imagine it. At least he had followed her and she could see him one last time.
"I already told you what I was going to say. I wanted to say thank you."
Peter stared her down. Sydney watched in amazement as a sparkle came into his eyes. His smile widened and he put his hands on her shoulders.
"Sydney, I had hoped you meant to tell me something else." he said softly.
"Like what?" she managed to squeak out.
Peter's smile widened even more, although Sydney did not know it was possible. Sydney waited for him to answer her question, but he simply looked at her. For every second he stared at her, her heart pounded louder. She was certain he could hear it. She turned red at the thought and then finally could not take it any longer.
"It's not fair, Peter! Why do I have to feel like this when you can stand there and laugh?" she bellowed.
"How exactly do you feel, Sydney?"
"Like I cannot live peacefully without you and like my whole chest hurts at the thought of never seeing you again and that I care about you more than I anything else in the world...." she trailed off and looked down as she realized what she had just said, a few tears escaping from her eyelids.
She felt a finger under her chin as Peter gently guided her face up. She did not want to look him in the eyes.
"Do you know, Sydney, that is exactly how I feel."
Sydney's eyes widened.
"W- what do you mean?"
"What I mean," Peter said, as he carefully wiped the tears off her cheeks, "is that I love you."
Sydney stared at him, in complete and utter shock. She stopped breathing.
"No, you don't. You could never love me. I know you, Peter, and I know that you could never love any-"
Peter went on as if Sydney had not spoken at all.
"And not only do I love you, I want to spend the rest of my life with you. I want you to become my wife."
"But, Peter, are you-" Sydney stared, still not believing his words. She felt it was a little below him to make a joke of her feelings like this, but Peter always had done things to surprise her.
"Are you telling me that you don't love me?" Peter continued.
"No! Of course I am not!"
Peter grinned. "Good, then tell me."
"Tell you what?"
"That you love me."
"I do love you, Peter. I just do not see what that has to do with anything and-"
Suddenly Peter cupped her face in his hands and kissed her. Her heart stopped, her thinking stopped, her breathing stopped. The only thing she could process in her mind was the fact that Peter was kissing her, which was quite obvious. She also hoped the driver could not see them.
Peter wrapped his arms around her waist and hugged her closer to him. Her nerves were tingling, her brain was mush, and she felt wonderful. She had never felt as safe and loved as she did at that moment. When Daniel Tate had kissed her, he had been rough, demanding- sometimes even hurtful. To be kissed by Peter was an entirely different experience. He was gentle and slow and completely undemanding.
Peter broke off the kiss and squeezed her tighter, laying his chin atop her head. She sighed in contentment.
"That was...nice." she said dreamily.
Peter pulled away slightly and gave a chuckle at the bemused look on her face.
"Only nice? I think we will have to change that."
Peter kissed her nose first, then her chin and then worked his way over to her neck. Sydney felt warm and out of breath, like she had just ran a great distance and all of it uphill. All she could think was that his kisses were much more than nice.
"You really do love me?" Sydney asked just to make sure.
Peter paused in his pursuit of her earlobe to laugh.
"Yes, Sydney, and do not make me tell you again."
"Why?" she asked seriously, or as seriously as she could muster with Peter placing kisses everywhere on her face.
Peter stopped and looked into her eyes.
"Why? Because you are the kindest, most generous, smartest, and most beautiful woman of my acquaintance. I cannot figure out why you would ever have fallen in love with me!"
Sydney smiled slyly. "Do you know how many nights I have lain awake wondering over that myself?"
Peter squeezed the breath out of her.
"That was not very nice!"
"Peter, I love you because you can make me laugh, and you can make me think, and you are kind and sweet and wonderful-"
"You may stop now, please! I am not kind or sweet!"
"Yes, you are!" Sydney insisted.
Peter groaned. "Please never mention what you just said to me to anyone- ever."
"It is just between you and me." Sydney smiled.
"Am I really kind?"
"The kindest man I know."
"Am I really...sweet?"
"Yes," she said as he put his arm around her shoulder.
"Am I really wonderful?"
Sydney paused in reflection. "To a certain extent."
They both turned to look as the driver made his way slowly to where they were standing.
"Mr. Parks, you may take Miss King back to Pemberley," Peter instructed the man, giving her shoulder a squeeze.
"Very good, sir."
Peter helped Sydney into the carriage. When she was settled in, the carriage started moving. Peter mounted his thoroughbred and waved a farewell. Sydney leaned back into the cushion and sighed happily. It would take her at least a week to really believe Peter Darcy was in love with her and wanted to marry her. Suddenly Peter was right outside the carriage, staying even with the window.
"Sydney!" he called.
Sydney stuck her head out the window.
"What are you doing?" she asked, laughing.
"You never told me yes."
"Yes to what?"
"Will you become my wife? Yes or no?"
"You love me?" Sydney asked, making sure one more time.
"Yes, I do."
"You are positive?" she asked again.
"Yes, I am! Now are you going to marry me or not?"
Sydney smiled. "Of course I will."
Fitzwilliam Darcy was looking for his wife. Since Peter's announcement of marriage to Sydney, the house had been in an uproar. Liza immediately went on the quest to find the perfect seamstress to create Sydney's dress. Ben and Jonathan had instantly started on congratulating them both every five seconds. They spent almost as much time fawning over Sydney as Peter himself. Elizabeth was busy planning the details of her oldest son's wedding. With the wedding date set now, and two months to finish the preparations, Fitzwilliam thought it was high time he and his wife spent some time in each other's company- without the mention of what type of lace should cover Sydney's gown.
He found Elizabeth in the last room he would have thought to look, the music room. Elizabeth, not being proficient enough to play the piano well- she never would believe what her husband said of her abilities- was seldom to be found in the Music Room. This afternoon, however, seemed to be an exception. She was staring out the window and at the sound of her husband's voice, she jumped three feet in the air.
"Fitzwilliam! You have no right to sneak up on me like that!" she protested, turning to grace her husband with a smile.
"I would not call that a surprise. What are you doing in here?" he wondered, walking over to the window and standing next to her.
Elizabeth turned red and it was then he noticed Sydney and Peter walking hand in hand on the grounds. This room was the only room that gave a view of the certain area they were walking in. Fitzwilliam turned to his wife and raised an eyebrow. She shrugged daintily.
"I was just watching them and thinking," she defended herself.
She leaned against the pane. "They will be happy, you think?"
"Is that what you were thinking about?"
Elizabeth shook her head. "No, but I do want your opinion."
"Yes, I think they will be happy- extremely so."
"I cannot believe our baby is getting married." Elizabeth sniffed, tears threatening to spill over.
Darcy laughed. "I cannot believe a wonderful girl like Sydney actually agreed to marry our 'baby'."
Elizabeth joined him in laughter, her tears drying momentarily.
"Do you think all of our children will have such a hard time getting married?" she asked, looking out at the two.
Darcy pulled his wife into his embrace and nodded. "It's in their blood."
"Peter Fitzwilliam Darcy! You are never going to change my mind so you may as well stop trying."
"I just want to invite a few relatives!"
"...and a few friends, and a few friend's of your friends, and a few friend's of your relatives, and a few people you have never met before in your life but-"
Peter's laughter interrupted Sydney's tirade and she could not help but smile along with him.
"Honestly, I just want to invite some relatives. The Bingley's, the Gardiner's, the Heighton's, the Tilney's-"
"The Tilney's are not your relatives!" Sydney reminded him.
"--the Phillip's, the Fitzwilliam's, the Cannerly's-"
"The Cannerly's are your neighbors," Sydney told him.
"--the Cavender's, the-"
"Peter, when I said I wanted a small wedding I meant a small wedding- you, me, the minister, your parents, Liza, Jonathan, and Ben."
"Sydney!" Peter pouted, giving her his best lost puppy look.
"Do not do that! It's not fair! You know you can always get me to crack," she grumbled.
"How could I go through the biggest moment of my entire life without my favorite Aunt and Uncle there to support me?"
"I am sure you would manage. I will have to." Sydney muttered to herself.
Peter stopped dead in his tracks and since Sydney was holding onto his hand, she was forced to stop, also.
"So that is your problem," he commented with a knowing grin.
"What?"
"You will not have any relatives there from your family."
"I would guess they are in America now." she said sullenly.
Peter wrapped his arms around her and gave her a squeeze.
"Sweetheart, once you are in my family, you are in my family and there is no way of getting out. After our marriage, they will see you as my wife and their relative. You will be Eric's new cousin and Aunt Bingley's new niece. I can promise you this." Peter paused and kissed her forehead.
"But if you insist, we can have a small wedding. As long as you are there and I am there and we are pronounced husband and wife, I could care less about the rest."
"You mean that?"
"You really should stop questioning my feelings. Have I told you I loved you in the past ten minutes?"
"No."
"I love you." Another pause. "Do you believe me?"
Sydney smiled. "Not quite, but I'm starting to."
They halted in front of their destination. Sydney stood staring at it and Peter did not know whether to say something or stay silent.
"It's been a long time," Sydney murmured softly.
"Are you sure you want to do this?" Peter wondered aloud, putting his arm around her shoulders.
Sydney took a deep breath.
"You will stay with me?"
"Every moment."
"Then I can do it."
"You are wonderful, you know," Peter said, gazing into her eyes.
With one kiss, they set forward, hand in hand, to enter the stable.