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Georgiana now made her way down the ever-brightening hall when she espied Higgins coming in.

“Are you only just arriving, Mr. Higgins?

“Yes, Ma’am. My final journey from Padua. I think I have everything we need; anything else can be purchased later today.”

“Dear Mr. Higgins! How much we owe to your efforts. May I express my thanks for all you have done?”

“You are very welcome, Mrs. McNally. I was happy to help Darcy. But if I may say so, fetching the linens from our lodgings serves us all; now I have a decent bed to rest in as well.”

“Oh, of course! You must be anxious to avail yourself of it at last. I was about to enquire after my brother before returning to my bedchamber. Shall we see how the patient is faring?” Higgins nodded.

As the two approached Darcy’s door, they both became embarrassingly aware of certain noises emanating from the room. An unspoken communication directed the two quickly past the door without stopping. Georgiana finally spoke when they had turned the corner.

“I daresay we can probably wait to see him until later. If Elizabeth needed anything, I am sure she would not hesitate to ask.”

“Yes, I think staying out of that room right now is a very wise decision,” a very nervous Higgins replied.

Neither dared look the other in the eye as they swiftly departed to their respective rooms.

Inside the patient’s room, Darcy was attending his nurse’s lips with great enthusiasm.

She moaned against the feel of his succulent, hot skin. “You have no idea what your kisses do to me,” she whispered as he changed angles and they repeated their actions.

“Tell me.”

She darted her tongue across the line of his bottom lip. “I taste your flavour which is like the sweetest nectar to me. My mind shuts off all other thoughts but to continue delving into the savoury dish set before me. My mouth demands I never stop.”

He groaned and clenched her tighter to him.

“While my taste buds are being taken to another world of existence, the rest of my body makes itself known in a most violent manner.” She could feel him smile while trying to kiss her.

“More…” he whispered as his tongue drew in her lip to suckle upon. They continued for several minutes. He released her and laid her back upon the bed. His lips began to swipe along her hairline, and nip at her ear.

She giggled, then gasped and wrenched his head away. His face showed his confusion until she began to trace her fingers along his jaw.

“You have a beard. And a moustache.”

He smiled. “I know.”

“It tickles my skin when you kiss my neck.” He arched his brow, to look the question. “I think I like it very much.” She smiled and her fingers rummaged deeply into his whiskers.

His eyes closed tightly and she stopped. “Do I hurt you?”

“Not in the least. You can be as rough as you like, and I shall never complain. Quite the opposite.” He began a new onslaught upon her delicate clavicle.

“Oh! Yesssss, that feels wonderful.”

He stepped up his assault and lingered for some time.

“Speak to me, Elizabeth. Let me hear your voice. Tell me how I make you feel.”

“Wanton,” she replied without thinking, then felt him chuckling as his tongue continued where his lips had left off.

“In what manner?” he demanded. Now it was her turn to smile. Of course, it made sense he would wish to hear her voice. He had spent the last years only able to watch her and now wanted his other senses to be touched by her love. She was thrilled to tell him how much he made her desire him.

“Your slightest touch makes me yearn for your hands upon my skin.”

“Like this?” His hand moved to stroke her while he watched her reaction.

She nodded while her eyes slowly closed. “My mind is in conflict when I feel what your hands are doing but,” her fingers indulged themselves down his back, “I also desire to do similar to you.” He groaned loudly and replaced his hand with his lips, giving the lovers new sensations to relish.

While Will’s touches were all she could have desired, Elizabeth found herself continually distracted by the stimulation of his skin against hers. She no longer wished to be merely a recipient and boldly took his head in her hands, stopping him.

“May I… that is…” she cursed her sudden timidity, “ I desire to touch and explore you. Will you allow me?”

The smirk he bestowed upon her could not be mistaken. She thought to punish his impudence, but frankly her lust was much too overpowering at that moment. She ungraciously pushed him off and settled him beside her where she could finally feast her eyes upon his form.

“Men are very different from women.”

Darcy laughed. “Have you only concluded this just now?”

She ignored his teasing and ran her hands across the top of his shoulders. “These bones and muscles are so much more pronounced, but lovely to feel.” She leaned forward to sweep her dry lips from his neck all the way to his arm. “Your skin is so soft despite the firmness beneath it.” She nuzzled her nose against him, caressing him with long drawn-out strokes and taking even longer whiffs of his aroma. She wanted to immerse herself in every nuance of his body, involve every sense in her endeavours.

In her mind, the process of discovering Will was taking on the semblance of a dance. There was a rhythm to her touches, a cadence to the brushes of his skin with her mouth, her nose, her chin. She thought she almost could hear music in her head as she made love to him.

Her fingertips and lips sated, her hunger and thirst were now making themselves known. “Does my mouth have a mind of its own?” she wondered as her tongue finally laved his skin.

She moaned at the taste.

“You are delicious,” she said, “and I am so very lickerish,” causing Darcy to snicker. She continued with her tongue, then suckled at his neck and shoulders until she had had her fill. She lifted up, intending to move to his broad chest when she felt the unmistakable coolness of liquid upon her chin and her hand quickly flew to stop the telltale dribble from her mouth. She looked at him, mortified.

He only had amusement on his face and she could not be angry with him as he softly asked, “Enjoying your breakfast, my darling?”

Not one to let him have his teasing ways all the time she replied, “Ardently,” and stopped his cheer when she immediately descended upon his chest and gorged with a vengeance. Soon his laughter was replaced with very satisfying hisses and he continued to try to touch her. She pushed his eager hands down and insisted, “Not yet, sir. I am not through with my quest.”

“Quest? You have a mission in mind for your actions? Whatever can it be?”

She smiled at him and shook her head as her hands travelled down his hip and to his legs. “These are wonderful.” she said. “So very different from mine. Strong, well muscled and very masculine.”

“I beg to differ. You would have me let you think your legs are weak or not lean and that is far from the truth.”

Her hips were near his head and his hand had crept up the back of her thigh and was gently fondling the length of her. “Your legs are exquisite. Absolute perfection to me, and I would like nothing more than to have them next to me every night.”

She giggled but knew she had to take control again, or she would soon loose her opportunity to finish. Purposely, she moved her hips out of range of his hands. Her fingers skimmed the surface that covered his hipbone and travelled outwards to the side of his waist while he squirmed under her. Her hand reached out to where the bone met his side, where his skin was silkiest, yet unequivocally male.

“Here,” she pronounced. “Here is my place, my favourite place on your person. I claim this place as my own, and decree no one else may touch it for it belongs solely to me.”

He snatched her hand and brought it to his lips. “Only this place?” She nodded. “You need not limit yourself, my love. After all, you have only seen one side of me.”

She laughed. “Such cheek! I would never have expected it.”

“Best to accustom yourself to being surprised, then. For I shall do so often, I promise you.”

Ages later, the room echoed from the increasing whimpers and moans of the physical delight they both were experiencing. He began a stippled decent of staccato kisses, when he suddenly ceased his attentions. “Lizzy, if you do not wish…” he began.

“If you dare stop now, Will Darcy,” she panted in complete seriousness, “I swear I will never speak of my desires again.”

Still he did not move. She thought she might know the source of his distress and moved to assure him. “Only you, Will. In the moonlit garden first, and never another since. I have always been only yours.”

His face betrayed his wonder at her confession, then he amazed her further when he whispered gently to her, “I would never have asked you, Lizzy, but I thank you for telling me. I promise you I will never hold your past against you.”

He suddenly blushed, a rare occurrence in Elizabeth’s acquaintance with him and then revealed, “I have been faithful to you in heart and in body since that night as well, my love. I only stopped out of consideration for you.”

She gasped a small “oh” and then smiled shyly at him. “I have borne your son, Will. I think I can tolerate your attentions quite admirably; I am no china doll.”

After that, all speech was limited to one, though sometimes drawn out, syllable.

Georgiana rose some hours later to find herself alone in the bed. She could tell it must be nearing midday by the sunshine and washed and dressed herself quickly. She fully expected to find her husband in the kitchen and hoped that Higgins was continuing to sleep, as he had not retired for bed until the sun was rising.

She never imagined she would turn the corner of the hallway to find the two men leaning against the wall on either side of Darcy’s door, staring at the floor while making no attempt to hide their smiles or bouncing shoulders as they boldly eavesdropped. Both men nearly bolted out of their shoes when they heard the loud single stamp of Mrs. McNally’s foot and saw her standing, hand on hips with a furious countenance directed at the two guilty parties. She silently pointed to the kitchen and her scowl never faltered as the two sulked, then quietly walked to their punishment.

All three, however, suddenly had to clasp their hands over their mouths, and double their speed for, before they could leave the hall, the combined chorus of two lovers in the pinnacle of their bliss sang out clearly to the heavens, and to every occupant of the villa.

He collapsed in a heap on the pillow next to her, panting heavily. She quickly covered his side with her own body, still heaving from the excitement.

“I think I would like to do this until we exhaust ourselves. You will not mind, will you?” he said between breaths.

“I had no idea one could do it so often as we already have, I hardly think I can have an opinion. Well…” she smiled, “other than thinking it is the most exquisite thing I have ever known.”

He chuckled sweetly, then kissed her nose and hugged her to him. “I think it to be the most exquisite thing I have ever done as well.” Then without warning, he was unable to stifle a huge yawn.

“Will!” Elizabeth admonished. “Your exhaustion will come sooner than you realise if you do not get more sleep. Much as it pains me to have to say this, you must get several more hours rest right now or I shall leave this bed.”

He simply smiled. “No, you shall not.”

“You must rest!” she cried.

“I will, but you will not leave. You promised to never leave me again. It is printed here,” he touched his heart, “and I have your word. Therefore, you will not leave this bed.” She rolled her eyes.

“However, as I fully intend to do this again today, I will happily agree to seek more sleep.” He nuzzled his face into her crown. “I must rest if I am to perform admirably for my lover, for her cries I cherish above all other sounds.”

Elizabeth squelched the urge to hide herself under the bedding in embarrassment. She wondered what the others in the house might have heard. Her entire body blushed as she groaned.

“What distresses you, my Love?”

“I think I shall never live this down.”

“Do not be shy around me, Elizabeth. Your unbridled passion is everything I could wish for. This is nothing to be embarrassed over.”

“Perhaps I could accept I apparently act like some wild heathen in our bed and that you enjoy it, but….”

Darcy laughed aloud. “Wild heathen? Why ever did you think a lusty appetite for me was wild or heathen? Good heavens, no! Elizabeth, the Italians know a voracious desire for one’s spouse is a blessing, just as it will be for us. Please do not think I want you to change how you respond to me. It shall be a gift to us both, and the envy of other couples, I assure you.”

“Some may envy us already.” Elizabeth let slip out.

“Who…what? How can anyone envy us?”

“We are not alone here, Will. Your sister and her husband and Higgins are all staying in the house.”

Now it was Darcy’s turn to burn bright red. “Why did you not say anything before?”

Elizabeth smirked. “Let me say my mind was more agreeably engaged and leave it at that.”

Darcy burst into laughter. “An admirable sentiment, my little wife-to-be. Well there is nothing to be done for it. They have no doubt heard us. I expect no small amount of teasing when we finally face them again. At least I no longer have to feel guilty for not telling my sister of my whereabouts. I am afraid the temptation of you in my bed quite overtook my responsibility to her.”

Elizabeth giggled sweetly at this Darcy who was romantic and playful with her. Suddenly her jovial mood was interrupted by the terrible memory of when she had entered his house the night before, and all she had suffered before he woke in the morning. Her emotions had been wreaking havoc with her, not unlike when she carried young William in her womb; one moment deliriously joyful, the next overwhelmingly saddened. She buried her head into his neck as her arms wound around his head.

He felt her shake, as sobs overcame her. He found himself soothing her, stroking her hair and trying to reassure her as they held one another.

“I swear you will never lose me, Elizabeth. I will never leave you and we shall be together always.”

“No, please. Do not speak of this. Not yet. I want to tell you all of it, Will. I want you to know all of me before you say that. I do not have a diary for you to read, but I want you to know my history, my hopes and dreams too. Then tell me we shall never be parted and I will know you can have no doubts or apprehensions, nor live to regret choosing me. Please? Will you hear me out?”

He took her little hand in his, and raised it for the lightest of kisses. “I will listen.”

She could not bear to see his face while she spoke, choosing to stare at their joined hands instead. His disapproval was now the only thing she feared in the world. She took a shuddering breath and began.

“George Wickham and my sister Lydia never married. My poor sister died in October of 1812, losing his bastard child.”

His hands gripped hers tightly. “When did you learn this?”

Her lip trembled again and the tears fell slowly. “That night, after the Blakely’s ball…”

When the tale was done, and her heart and soul lay completely bared to him to do with as he pleased, she finally dared to look upon his face. A new torrent of emotions swept over her as she saw the expression of his eyes overflowing with love and tenderness and when he spoke, he did so with earnest devotion.

“Dearest, beloved, Elizabeth. We shall be married as soon as may be and never be parted again. Please trust me.” She nodded slowly and returned to the sanctuary she found in his arms, at long last confident in their love and the future.

Eventually their breathing began to fall in unison, their hearts beat together in time and they drifted off into a deep slumber which only comes after intense loving and heart-wrenching confessions.

The three sat uncomfortably in the kitchen, meticulously attending the food which did not merit such regard. Georgiana had had no chance to give admonishments to the mischievous gentlemen when they finally made it to the kitchen, as Higgins had not stopped there. Instead, he continued out the rear door of the villa and apparently several hundred more yards, for much later she and Patrick heard what was obviously uproarious laughter, from a distance very far away. The couple merely chuckled quietly to themselves.

“Do not consider yourselves absolved because of my amusement,” Georgiana warned. “The two of you should still be ashamed of yourselves.”

“Yes, Ma’am.” Patrick obediently replied, then drew her into his arms and kissed her forehead soundly before giving her a loving squeeze. He attempted to soften her.

“You should be happy we have proof your brother is feeling much better.”

She slapped his arm. “Some proofs a sibling can do without. And before you allow that smug look upon your face, imagine if it was your sister in that room with her lover.”

Gone was the smugness.

Much later, after Higgins had returned, they finally found their voices and discussed the future of the couple they all held so dearly in their hearts.

“How long should we let them stay in there?” Higgins ventured.

“They will need to come out for food.” Patrick offered. “Eventually.”

Higgins stifled a snicker in the form of a cough.

“Well, I trust Elizabeth to make a sound decision as to when they will emerge, but I must put my foot down at some point. We have a wedding to plan and attend, and it cannot happen if the bride and groom insist on taking their honeymoon first.” Now Patrick and Higgins felt permission for laughter had at last been granted and freely indulged.

Georgiana merely sighed at the propensity males had of turning into schoolboys. “This house is also in desperate need of many things. After we finish our meal, what say you to going into Abano and purchasing some supplies as well as some much-needed household items? We could try to furnish as much as possible today and present it to the newlyweds as a present!”

Georgiana’s enthusiasm for shopping was well known to her husband, as well as her brother and every shrewd shopkeeper in London. He knew better than to thwart her efforts or her schemes. She was not easily gainsaid.

“I think it a wonderful idea, Mrs. McNally.” Patrick approved. “We shall leave directly after our meal. Now, let us think upon the best way to get these two married.” All agreed.

“It should not be here, or in Padua.” Higgins offered. “I think a trip to Verona would do nicely. Less society people are likely to be there, compared to Venice, and it’s far enough away that no one from Padua would know Miss Bennet or Darcy. They could merely be tourists who wish to get married.”

“Verona!” Georgiana squealed. “The city where Romeo and Juliet lived and died. How romantic!”

Higgins swallowed uncomfortably. “Yes, well, it is a good distance away and serves the purpose, Ma’am.”

“Perhaps when we are in Abano today, we may enquire how one procures a marriage licence in this country and hopefully the process will be the same in Verona.” Patrick added.

Georgiana clapped her hands. “Excellent, gentlemen. This is coming along better than I would have imagined. We have the beginnings of a wedding, and I thank you both for your ideas.”

“The harder question is, how do we explain William to the world if the Darcys have just married?” Patrick asked.

“Actually, I have an idea about that,” Higgins started. “I will first need some information from you, Mrs. McNally.”

The trio arrived back late in the afternoon, followed by two carts being driven by local merchants and filled with the luxuries Mrs. McNally considered essential while they all were to stay at the villa. Patrick had merely smiled and produced his purse at every shop. The men quickly delivered the goods into each room they were meant for and made to set up the two new beds and mattresses which had been purchased. Unfortunately, one man had gone to the wrong room and Georgiana and Patrick had intercepted him before he opened the door to Darcy’s room.

Georgiana nearly shouted to him. “No, that room is locked,” she lied in Italian. The truth, however, was quickly revealed as a new round of noises began to reach their ears from within. The worker merely smiled knowingly, “Si, si, Signora,” he said and joined his co-workers down the hall, but she had not taken three steps before she heard him remark to them, “ Dove ci sono le donne innamorate, è inutile tenere le porte serrate.”

Patrick saw the amused expression upon her face when she turned the corner. “What did they say?”

“It is an old Veneto saying, ‘When women are in love, locking the door is futile’.”

“How very wise,” He waggled his eyebrows.

“Fortunate for me we share the same room. I would hate to have to break your lock,” she retorted back with a smirk.

Georgiana spent a considerable part of the afternoon arranging the new dishes and the larder supplies, happy to know they would not have to rely on the stable boy as often. She found evidence someone had been in the kitchen while they were gone; a half empty pot of tea sat on the table, and the loaf of bread and cheese were missing.

“It seems our mice have found a source for sustenance while we were out. I daresay unless we demand it, they might not come forth at all.”

Patrick chuckled. “Are you sure you wish to force them to come out? I imagine Darcy is recuperating very well. He has his warmth, and now some food, and his heart will have been healed by his companion. Why bother him at all? We could head back to Padua and wait for them to return.”

Georgiana was exasperated. “Because they should not wait to marry! We will be aunt and uncle again before Christmas if history repeats itself, and I for one do not want anyone counting the days!”

Patrick laughed at his wife. “You want a wedding, just like every other woman, Georgie. Do not try to fool me.”

She shrugged her shoulders. “I should like to see my brother married…”

“Go and knock then. But make sure they hear you. I do not want to hear you are struck mute because you dared to walk in on them.”

“You are incorrigible,” she said, though she headed immediately to the bedchambers. She stood hesitantly at the door, then, with a mischievous smile, she mustered all the strength she could and knocked as though the house itself was on fire.

“Elizabeth, I should like to check on Fitzwilliam!” she shouted. “May I come in?” A large amount of movement could be heard, small giggles and laughter and a decidedly large kiss being bestowed before the door was opened by a radiant, smiling, Elizabeth, fully clothed in her dress from the night before. Her brother was positioned, most properly and covered, in the bed.

“He is awake, and I think well recovered, Georgiana,” she said happily.

Georgiana hugged Elizabeth tightly, then, keeping her arm around her shoulder, walked to the bedside. “You are looking much better. How do you feel?”

“Considering my folly last night and the pain in my feet earlier, I am feeling remarkably well,” he answered jovially.

“From what we have been hearing I would say you are feeling miraculously better. At least I know now your senses have recovered,” Georgiana retorted.

The guilty parties blushed pink. “Mrs. McNally, if you were younger I would put you over my knee.”

“You can save such pleasures for your lady love, brother. As the matron in this room, I will be the one to say if any punishment shall be meted out.”

“Well said, my love,” Patrick concurred as he strolled in. “High time to repay your stalwart brother for all the evenings I spent sitting next to him instead of sneaking a stolen hand squeeze from my betrothed under the pianoforte.” He stopped next to Darcy and patted him on his shoulder. “I am glad to see you both looking so well.”

Darcy nodded, and then grimaced. “I am heartily sorry for my foolish actions yesterday. Mrs. Darcy-to-be tells me it was you and Higgins who found me and you who carried me home, Patrick. It seems I am to be ever indebted to you, and now it is with my life.” He reached out his hand towards his brother but Patrick would have none of it and gave him a hearty embrace instead.

“Thank you,” Darcy said, greatly moved.

Georgiana suddenly understood her brother‘s not very sly hint. “Mrs. Darcy-to-be? Oh, Fitzwilliam! Have you proposed? You have been accepted? Please tell me all is settled between you!” she effused.

Darcy laughed, “I have.”

Elizabeth added, “He was.”

The lovers looked at each other and nodded their assent. “It is.”

Chapter Thirty-Nine

Posted on Saturday, 8 April 2006

Early that evening, Will and Elizabeth stood in the doorway of his villa. He held her hands tightly whilst kissing each slender finger thoroughly.

Elizabeth attempted to look at him sternly. “I shall return in a few hours,” she gently chided.

“This is our first parting. I wish to make it memorable.”

She laughed lightly. “My love, the last twenty four hours have been more than memorable. I have only to think back on it and I shall be desperately longing to be here. Mr. Higgins will take very good care of me.”

“I have no fears for your safety. I only wish I could see our son with you.”

She bent her head round to look up into his face with deep compassion. “Surely you can bear two more days?”

“Of course. Will you…will you give him these for me?” He lavished kisses over her eyes and cheeks, causing her to giggle sweetly. “I have seen you do such things to William before, but this time, give them from me?”

Her heart was once again pierced. “I shall deliver your gifts, dearest Papa.”

The endearment made his breath hitch and he smiled tremulously. “Thank you.”

Over Elizabeth’s shoulder, Georgiana called to her brother. “Enough, Fitzwilliam! Elizabeth and I have much to do! We would like to be able to return before midnight!”

He took her hand once more and gallantly kissed it. “Goodbye, best beloved.”

“Until later, sweet Will,” she returned.

In the coach driven by Higgins, Georgiana quickly laid out all she wished to accomplish. “Did you bring the list of things to pack?”

“Yes, I have it, and the information to leave should anyone in my household need to reach me.”

“Excellent! Goodness, I do hope we can accomplish it all in time to leave tomorrow. If my brother had not been so obstinate we might have left at least an hour earlier.”

Elizabeth laughed when remembering his flat refusal to allow her to leave the villa. It was only the painful truth of William having never been parted from her before, along with her need to see he was well and bearing their separation in good spirits, that convinced Darcy to allow her to go.

“He may prove an implacable husband,” she answered Georgiana. “Perhaps he only allowed my leave knowing you would be happy to act as best man and assure him of my attendance at our wedding.”

The two ladies fell into a fit of gaiety.

William lay on his little bed, a single candle burning next to his mother while she covered his faces in kisses.

“Those were from someone who loves you very dearly,” she whispered, smoothing his curls. “I will tuck you into your bed tonight, but tomorrow you will have Cook to put you to bed and she will be in the house all night with you. I shall come again on the evening after. Will you be well?”

“I shall miss you, but I can bear it, Mama. I am glad you are friends with Mrs. McNally. I like her.”

“She is a wonderful lady; I think you two shall be very happy knowing each other. Now, what say you to a story?”

William nodded enthusiastically and Elizabeth began their nightly ritual eagerly. Much later she kissed his dozing head and went to see how her housekeeper’s packing was faring. She had given the instructions regarding her absence and they had just finished their work when the bell rang. Mrs. McNally was on the doorstep to return Elizabeth to Abano. As the two settled in for the ride, Georgiana’s enthusiasm could no longer be contained.

“Just think! This time tomorrow you shall be my sister!” she cried.

Palazzo della Ragione, Verona

Signor Toderini, Ufficiale di Stato Civile de Verona stood proudly in his office. He had served the city for over thirty years and joining couples in matrimony was the one area wherein he felt his oratory skills were superior to all men who attempted the ceremony, including the Cardinale’s nuptial mass in the cathedral. Even Padre Magratho had once commented the Church would never have been the same had he joined the priesthood instead of choosing civic duty.

With little regrets for the holy fathers’ deprivations of his natural gifts did he happily prepare to join the handsome couple in front of him. These were the days he enjoyed his employ the most; no nervous, tittering bride, no irritated relations, but two mature people, obviously deeply in love and ready to commit themselves to one another for all eternity. He sighed. Yes, these two would appreciate the efforts he had put into his masterpiece on the perfection of love, the beauty of the connubial state, and the duty to God and country, which he had agonized over and now perfected into one magnificent hour-long recitation of great significance.

“Elizabetta, e Guglielmo …,” he began.

Georgiana stood silently by as her brother fulfilled his fondest wish. Despite her whirlwind activities of the morning, and seemingly endless energy, this ceremony would take its toll. She felt Patrick’s hand creep into hers and pull her against him. He always could read her moods. She looked into his handsome face, willing all the love in her heart to shine through her eyes. His face softened instantly and he nodded in comprehension.

“And I,” he answered softly.

Her brother stood handsome and tall in his plain brown suit of clothes. She could just make out the tiny bump of iron in his breast pocket, there to ward off the Italian ‘mal'occhio’ - evil eye. His face was one of perfect contentedness as he gazed upon his bride. Georgiana was glad Elizabeth had agreed to the local custom of wearing a lace veil upon her head. Her simple gown was brought to life by this old fashioned bridal tradition, and its ability to render the bride even more beautiful to the groom had made the frantic search through the shops worth Georgiana’s temporary panic. She felt a tear slip as she took in the glow upon Elizabeth’s fearless face. Her new sister’s happiness was plain for anyone to see and she was satisfied that it matched her own.

Patrick watched the scene with much the same sentiment, though he focused on his beloved wife’s presence. A wedding heralded the beginnings of many things and this particular joining would bring an end to the sufferings of many, his darling Georgie included. He loved his brother, and knew the relationship with his wife was closer than almost any sibling could boast, yet he could not help but be grieved at how deeply Georgiana felt her brother’s pain. Darcy’s marriage to Elizabeth and the joy which would now surround him would surely allow Georgiana to relieve herself of her pathos to his past sorrow. It was time for her to pass on Fitzwilliam’s care to his new wife, and concentrate on her own happiness. He hoped to have a chance to speak with the newlyweds on the subject before they left Italy.

The bride and groom were radiant before him. The grandiloquent official was in high voice. He could make out descriptors every now and then and certain words being repeated, however he soon gave up trying to understand as it was obvious that the man neither required, nor cared, if anyone paid him any attention. His own voice was apparently enough to please him enormously.

The last witness, Higgins, watched on with smug satisfaction. He was not a man who dwelt upon his past, but could not help feel some responsibility in this particularly happy event.

He had been honoured when Elizabeth had asked if he would give her away. Darcy had once asked if he was in love with her, and perhaps he may have been at first. But some part of him always knew she was never for him, and another part knew he wanted to protect her, be her friend. As soon as his mind had made that judgement, Elizabeth had become like a daughter to him, and he knew she was in the right place in his heart. Giving her away as a father would, had brought him great happiness. She had smiled brightly at him and squeezed his hand tightly the moment before he placed her hand into Darcy’s.

He saw the glint of light as Darcy brought the jewellery to his bride’s finger. He was oddly touched at this medieval custom they had chosen to use. A circular ring, without end, and given in love. A stone the Italians believed to be cast by the flames of love, unbreakable, and more brilliant than any other. Yes, that was his dearly loved Darcy and Elizabeth. The little ring was the symbol of them, and what they would always be together. He cleared his throat uncomfortably.

Elizabeth tried to concentrate on the words binding her to the only man she had ever loved. She worried she would be unable to contain her tears this day, as she had never attended a wedding in which she was not moved to shed them. She had attended funerals where she was not compelled to weep, yet weddings always brought them on. Now she silently chided herself, for as she stood in front of Will, her hand in his as he repeated Signor Toderini’s words, she felt no tears, only euphoria. This was what she was meant for, she and Will, hands clasped together and vowing their love and fidelity until they perished. The rightness of the act, and their future, were as solid as the diamond he was placing upon her finger. She felt the dependability of his love with every blink of his warm eyes and the strong mooring of her hands in his. The way ahead was with the man in front of her.

Will marvelled at the woman he was marrying. He could see the trust in her eyes, the simplistic happiness radiating from her face and the love in her heart as if it were script to be read. How few days ago was she living a completely different life, and now, because of knowing him and the truth of his heart, she was willing to give herself over to him completely. He suddenly felt the weight of his role in honouring, cherishing and loving her for the rest of their lives. No fear accompanied the insight, merely the magnitude of what they were doing and how much he welcomed it.

As the man droned on Will took the opportunity to study her in depth, and felt he could not be more pleased with each tiny nuance of her person, until his eyes alighted upon a new spot. Her lovely bridal veil fell softly around her lustrous curls and even the good luck tear in the delicate covering, the sight of which the Italians had all approved, was considered precious to him.

Soon however, their vows having been said, the ring having been placed and the minutes having slowly ticked by, he became aware of the content, not to mention duration of what the civil ‘parson’ was saying. He wondered what in the world Dante and Beatrice had to do with a happy marriage, but the man had quickly continued on to more wise anecdotes from the ancients.

When Darcy clearly heard Niccolo Machiavelli’s name he was about to intervene but the official had already begun his mistake.

“He who wishes to be obeyed must know how to command,” he quoted in Italian, with a significant nod of his head to the groom.

The silence that followed, combined with the fury most obviously being directed at Signor Toderini by two formerly demure members of the wedding party, caused the registrar to forget the tribute he had once written to each and every one of his favourite historic authors and suddenly draw a complete blank for the rest of his speech.

“Ah…ah…” he stammered, and then threw up his hands in defeat.

“You sposato - marito e moglie.”

“Husband and wife!” exclaimed Georgie.

The happy wedding party gratefully departed out into the piazza and the waning sun. Darcy and Elizabeth only had eyes for one another and would have announced their intention to retire for the evening, despite it only being five o’clock, but Higgins made an announcement. “While Mrs. McNally was preparing the wedding this morning, Mr. McNally and I have prepared the wedding feast.”

General exclamations of delight resounded with the exception of Patrick who was deep in thought.

“What disturbs your happiness?” Georgiana asked.

“That man! That… until now, I had no idea someone could permanently delude himself into honorificabilitudinitatibus *.

The two ladies held their tongues until their eyes met and then the two burst into giggles, while Darcy and Patrick shared a laugh and Higgins looked bewildered.

Several minutes later, they arrived at the entrance to Ristorante 12 Apostoli near the Piazza Erbe. As they walked into the old establishment, Darcy and Elizabeth were inundated with good wishes, handshakes, and much to Darcy’s perturbation, kisses on his new bride’s cheeks by what seemed like every man in the place. Patrick and Higgins shared a knowing smile, as the owner had warned them earlier that tradition called for the bride to be kissed to make her new husband jealous. The owner had also warned it was expected of the best man to provide the guests with generous libations, and Patrick had happily provided a hefty down payment towards the pleasure of the wedding festivities.

The staff and lucky guests dining at 12 Apostoli that night toasted the newlyweds for many hours, happy to join in the party, as well as the free Soave the groomsman was providing. Musicians showed up no less than an hour after the wedding party had arrived and serenaded everyone through the night. Soon the restaurant was turning away customers, as the neighbourhood had obviously heard a rich Englishman was footing the bill of his brother’s wedding banquet. Neither the McNallys nor the Darcys had ever attended a celebration more overflowing with simple happiness and joy.

Elizabeth was beaming with love at her bridegroom, while he was grudgingly admitting to enjoying himself, if not the constant attentions paid to his new wife. When the clock struck eight, she rose and looked pointedly at her groom, intent on departure to their hotel. A look of pride and smug superiority could not be denied from his face as he slowly stood and looked around, daring any man to deny who was truly the best man in the room.

The Veronesi were hardly able to contain themselves, and as soon as the newlywed’s backs were turned, yet still in the room, they applauded, whistled and began throwing out remarks (which Darcy had thought were only common in the wild norths of the Derbyshire countryside) as they headed out the door.

“I must send the staff another case of fine wine in the morning for giving me some very creative ideas for my wedding night,” Darcy whispered in her ear while they made their way across the piazza.

“I must commend my new husband on his excellent understanding of Italian. Thank goodness I could pretend not to comprehend what they were saying. Though I wonder at some of the suggestions being physically possible!” cried Elizabeth.

“I believe the attempt to disprove them might be very enjoyable.”

He stopped her behind the shadows of a deteriorating stone column, stealing a luxuriant kiss and then slowly removed her bridal veil, folding it carefully and placing it in his pocket. “I would rather not give the hotel staff any more information than is necessary, Mrs. Smith.”

She smiled and nodded her approval.

They ignored the looks they were given as they entered, clearly raising many brows that seemed surprised any couple would retire to their rooms at so obviously early an hour. The two were laughing as they entered their chamber at last.

She turned to him and pressed her hand gently against his chest. “My husband,” she whispered softly, petting the front of his jacket.

Instead of a tender reaction, Will grasped her roughly and drove his lips down onto hers in a fierce kiss. He continued to her neck, nipping at her and sucking hard against her skin in a blatantly territorial display. She was sure his efforts would be highly visible in the mirror the next morning.

“My wife,” she heard him mumble against the strong beat at her throat. His hands were in her hair, haphazardly drawing out any pins he came across until her thick cascade tumbled to her shoulders. He did not stop to play in their folds but immediately set to the ties at her back, not hesitating until she felt him pulling on her sleeves to allow it to drop to the floor. She continued to hear him whispering her new title against any newly exposed skin as he worked quickly to strip her nearly bare.

“I believe you may not appreciate the finer points of Italian wedding traditions.”

She heard him grumble an incomprehensible reply against her skin. He made to take her lips once more but she tipped her head away and arched her brow at him in question.

“From now on, Mrs. Smith, the only men who will be kissing your cheeks had better be either relative, or me,” he growled then stopped to remove his outer garments.

Elizabeth contemplated her suddenly possessive husband and decided such strong feelings should not be denied, nor indulged in alone. “Fair enough, Mr. Smith. As long as you realise you married a woman who will not tolerate anything less from her husband,” she countered and quickly made short work of his simple cravat. Within seconds she had untied it, and soon after his fine shirt was sailing through the air to points unknown. Will began to laugh until his wife lunged forward and latched onto his breast with a vengeance. Soon Elizabeth heard his amusement turn to gasps as she taught her beloved how well she remembered his own methods of lovemaking. She tarried long and diligently, struggling to secure her claim upon her spouse’s skin and providing him with tangible evidence of just whose body she worshipped.

He looked down at her handiwork when she finally released him and gave her a feral grin that instantly flushed her body from head to toe and made the room feel as if the fire had suddenly roared.

“I expect this may fade with time,” he spoke seductively whilst gazing at the angry mark she had left. “Will you promise to renew this brand you have left over my heart?”

She nodded absently. Without thinking, she slowly began to rid her self of the last of her underthings while he kicked off his shoes and then unbuttoned the final piece and let it slide to the floor.

Her brow arched once again; challenging.

“On the bed, temptress,” he commanded.

Elizabeth woke slowly as the new day dawned. Despite their rather rumbustious evening, she felt amazingly rested. Her body began to twitch and she moved to stretch her limbs and felt her new husband extend his legs and yawn. She was about to greet his handsome face when they both heard as clear as if someone was in the room with them,

“Are you awake, Geoffrey?”

They froze like frightened deer.

“I am, my dear. I shall be ready for breakfast in ten minutes. Will you have sufficient time to finish with your maid?”

“Certainly, I am nearly ready myself. Are you sure you do not need more time? You look quite dreadful this morning. Did you not sleep well?”

“As well as can be expected, I suppose. You finish and I shall tell you over breakfast.”

They looked horrified at one another, blushing as red as a rose.

They heard a door close and some minor shuffling until a few minutes later ‘Geoffrey’ apparently finished his ablutions and vacated his room.

Elizabeth was the first to grab a pillow and cover her face as she burst into hearty laughter. Will was not as light-hearted about the matter. When she had finally calmed, he whispered softly to her.

“You may laugh, Mrs. Smith. Nevertheless, we have to leave this room at some time. We have yet to hear our neighbours on the other side, nor what they might have heard. Are you sure you would be able to hold your head up high and walk through the entryway knowing someone might have heard you last night?”

“I cannot imagine anything I might have said that I should be ashamed of,” she whispered back.

His face showed his disbelief, then his mischief. “Are you sure you were never moved to utter anything last night which might be considered in baaaaaaaaad taste?”

Her face had just recovered only to flush brightly once more. “I did?” He nodded.

“Will, how are we ever going to escape?” she hissed.

If Elizabeth had ever thought her very proper husband could not surprise her with original and shocking antics, watching him perched with his eye at the keyhole, spying for signs of their neighbours in the hallways, with not a stitch of clothing on, would certainly have changed her opinion. She dressed in silence while he took the first watch, then reciprocated the gesture for him when she was done. An hour later, they were finished, packed and ready to attempt to leave. They had never heard anyone in the next room, and could only hope it had remained empty the night before.

Darcy cautioned her to be as quiet as could be with their bags, which luckily were small, as they had only spent a single night away. They had left the room and were making their way down the stairs when an elderly couple coming up the stairs began to speak.

“I think it best you rest before we go out again, Geoffrey,” the lady said. “Surely that pair will have gone by now, or at least will not indulge so loudly in the middle of the morning.”

The gentleman was not listening to his wife; instead, his attention was drawn to the lady with the healthy glow, now blushing, and the virile man who accompanied her coming down the stairs. Before he could attempt to hear their voices and confirm the identity as the amorous pair who had kept him, most interestingly, awake the night before, the fellow spoke.

Darcy had not missed the look, nor the fact they had most likely been caught out but decided to try to save his beloved’s dignity by saying, in a voice considerably higher than his own,

“Sono molto stanco, Giacinta. Il tuo padre ha bevuto troppo ieri sera e mi ha mantenuto svegliato fino a sta mattina. Poi dopo, il bambino si e svegliato. Non mi sono dormentato quasi per niente.” - I am very tired, Hyacinth. Your Papa drank too much last night and kept me up late. And the baby awakened me. I hardly slept at all.

Elizabeth looked to him with raised eyebrows as he guided her down the stairs away from Geoffrey’s prying eyes and ears. She quickly surmised the situation and abruptly wrenched her elbow out of his hand and answered angrily in a voice rich in resonance from her nose and high in its pitch as well. “Sie un austriaco. Pensavo che tu potrebbi tollerare il tuo vino.” - You are an Austrian. I thought they could tolerate their wine.

"Chi ha detto che ho bevuto il vino?” - Who says I drank wine?

“L'odore sul vostro alito, il mio marito caro.” - The smell of your breath, my darling husband.

By now, they were on the street and looking for their carriage and the rest of their party, but still enjoying themselves a great deal.

“Do you think we managed to convince Geoffrey we were not the ones to keep him awake last night?”

“Dearest Giacinta, I sincerely doubt it.”

Author’s Notes:

The places listed in this chapter are real: The Palazzo della Ragione, and the Ristorante 12 Apostoli, Verona, Italy. You can see pictures of this historic restaurant which has been in business since 1750 at 12.apostolic.it (put a www in front of it). I like to think the modern decorating is what it might have looked like back then with little frescos on the walls. Enjoy.

What author could resist such a delicious treat being waved in front of her, than when I discovered a common Veneto region surname such as Toderini for my civil servant? I like to think of its discovery as divine providence versus dumb luck. And in my mind, it’s pronounced Tod-erini. Accent on the toad.

Posted on Tuesday, 25 April 2006

Chapter Forty

Elizabeth watched her jubilant son looking out of the window of their carriage as they headed to Darcy’s house in the hills. They had had few opportunities to travel outside of the city and his enthusiasm for this trip to stay with Mrs. McNally and her husband, the story he had been told, delighted his mother.

"I am pleased to meet you at last, Master Cartwright."

William’s eyes went wide as he peered the long way up to Mr. McNally’s cheerful face. "I… I thank you for inviting me, Mr. McNally, Mrs. McNally." He returned the bow but stared up at Patrick until his mother nudged him slightly. He blushed and apologised. "You are a very large man," he stated the obvious. The adults chuckled.

"Indeed, I have heard it thus said. But it does not follow that being a great, tall fellow means I have the temperament of a giant," Patrick answered cheekily.

William laughed, "I am glad to hear it, sir."

Elizabeth then introduced him to Mr. Higgins. Their ease and friendliness was almost instant, especially after Higgins offered to show the lad the horses later. Soon the group split up, tending to the business of unpacking from their trip to Verona, and seeing to the dinner for the evening. Mr. Higgins had a special task to attend to, for in two days time, he would be making a long journey.

William sat on the bed dangling his feet off the edge while his mother unpacked his belongings. She observed how her son could be both child and young man at once, but then reminded herself that no matter his age, she would always be his mother, and he was going to need his mother very much over the next hours. She sat down next to him to have the conversation she had been dreading since his birth.

"I have always told you that your father died before you were born, but it was not true. My dearest son, your papa lives."

"My father is alive?" William asked, shocked.

She nodded. "Before you were born, your father and I had a terrible argument. Though we loved each other very much, we…no… I did not think we could have a life together and I sent him away. He did not know he was going to be a father yet or he would never have let me banish him. After you were born I hid us from him, and he never knew that you existed or where we lived."

William‘s face fell. "You kept me from my father?" his voice faltered. “Why?"

"There were things which had happened to me and to my family which I thought would hurt your father and I did not want anything to happen to him. At the time, I decided the best thing to do was to stay away. I was wrong, William."

"But Papa would have been your family, too. Did he not look for you?"

"He did, as did my own family. For you see, I also hid from the rest of my family as well."

"You told me you have no family!" His voice was laced with judgement.

"I am sorry, William. It was wrong of me to keep them from you. I felt if I was to be successful hiding from your father, I must also hide from my relatives. All of it was wrong, and I never should have done it."

"What sort of relations do I have?" He stopped himself. "Is that why Mr. Bingley does not call me his nephew? Because of the quarrel you and my father had so many years ago? Is that the disagreement he had with my father?" He looked to Elizabeth, confusion and hurt plainly in his face.

She tried to help him understand. "No, William. The man you met was not Bingley. His name is Fitzwilliam Darcy and… he is your father."

"My father was William Cartwright!" he cried, frustrated. He jumped down from the bed and ran to the window, hugging his arms around him tightly.

Elizabeth struggled to contain her tears. "Dearest William, please forgive me, but I had to make up a father for you to keep us hidden. Mr. William Cartwright was a friend of Mrs. Thurgood’s, but he died before ever knowing you or me. It was Mrs. Thurgood who gave us his name and our home. She wanted to help me hide." She could hear his sniffles and watched his bowed head tremble while his tears fell.

"You lied a great deal, Mama." He scowled at her. "All these lies to protect my father?"

"Yes, and us. It is done, however, and it was done for the best. I know now how wrong it was, but please believe me, at the time, I thought I was doing the best thing for all of us."

"But that day at Lady Angel’s house. I saw him there. He gave me my books. Did he not know I was his son?"

This was what Elizabeth had dreaded, explaining the separations of the past two years. She could see the sense of rejection on her son’s face and it caused her great shame to know she had inflicted pain upon her darling boy.

"William, when your father and I parted, I told him I would not stay with him. When we went to see Mrs. Bingley that day, your father heard me speaking to her of this, and thought I still did not wish to be with him. He also heard me say… I said I did not wish you to be his heir, William. I did not wish for you to be raised in the same manner as he."

He frowned. "What manner?"

"Your papa owns a great estate, and is its master. He is also a very important man in England. Many demands are made of him because of these responsibilities. If you were to one day take his place, your time would be filled with many obligations."

He stopped and concentrated hard. His mind now occupied, his tears ceased. "You worried if I had a great house to care for I would not be able to continue my studies?"

"I believe you were meant to do more than run an estate or be a member of society. It would be very difficult for you if you were to be his heir. I am sorry to say your father heard my opinion that day and I had been very… thoughtless in the words I chose. Because of this, he did not speak to me, only you. He could not leave without meeting you. It was the first day he knew of your existence and he thought you were a wonderful boy. I think you said he was very kind to you."

William nodded thoughtfully. "Yes. He smiled whenever he spoke to me. He gave me the books and asked me to kiss his cheek. I remember. I have his picture in my head."

"I am glad it is a happy memory for you. However, I did not know that he had met you that day, or that he had seen me. I thought we must still hide and that is what we have done."

She pulled him into her lap and dried his face with her shawl. "I have since learnt your father has not stayed away. He has been helping us since that day. In every way he could he has been caring for us, my love. His sister and brother purchased the building we lived in while we were in London. He arranged to have our house in Brampton rented and even our lodgings here in Padua are partially paid for by him. Nothing was to be done that he did not do himself. Anything that could ease our way, and improve our life has been done, in secret, by your father these past two years. All the while, he has watched us."

"He has watched over us?"

"No, dearest. I mean he has watched us. He has lived in our shadows these two years without us knowing it, both in London, and here in Padua. I believe he has had the chance to see us nearly every day. He draws pictures of you, and knows all your likes, and what vexes you. He studies with your professors at the university to keep abreast of your subjects."

"My father is here? In Padua?"

"Yes, he lives here now, since we are here. "

"But what will he think when he learns we know he is here?"

"He already knows. I have spent the last two days with him."

William stopped and thought for a moment. "Does he want to see me?"

"He does. More than anything, he wishes for us to be together as a family and I wish it too. He loves you, William. He has had the chance to know you secretly these two years, and he loves you very much. Now he wishes for you to know him, and come to love him one day."

His face brightened and he threw his arms around his mama’s neck. "I should like that, mama," he exclaimed. "But how shall we explain to the Signoras? What will you say about Mr. Cartwright?"

A lone figure rode slowly through the late afternoon streets of Padua. He stopped often and asked in a friendly manner for directions to the address he held tightly in his hand. If anyone had observed him carefully, they would notice he was also absentminded, for he had barely travelled around the next corner before he would stop and happily ask directions once again.

Near the town centre, he paused outside a fine pastry shop and ventured inside. He asked politely after the items he saw within the cases and made several purchases.

"You are new to Padua, Signor?" the owner asked.

"Yes, but I plan to live here now," the tall stranger answered.

"Eccellente! You like my pasticcini; you come here to Bergonzi’s to buy it, si?"

"I am sure I will, sir. My wife and son have often written to me how much they enjoy your delightful sweets. Good day."

The newcomer mounted his horse again and continued through the streets. At last he alighted after inquiring a few houses away from his final destination. He knocked confidently at the door and when the housekeeper answered, he found it very difficult to fight the urge to grin.

"Good Afternoon. I am Will Cartwright. Have I found the home of my wife and son?"

Elizabeth paced nervously in the sparse drawing room. They had arranged for her to leave Padua with time to spare for her conversation with William and for Will to go through the town and announce himself at her lodgings. Now that her part of the plan was done, and she and her son were waiting for Darcy, she could not contain her anxiety.

They both heard the rider approaching at full speed. William jumped from the sofa and intercepted her at the edge of the fine rug. She looked down to his face, his kind concern plainly etched there. They returned to the sofa, William placing his little hands in hers, calming her nerves.

Darcy entered the room and watched William carefully, trying to discern any animosity or anger from the boy. When he finally smiled shyly at his father, it was all the invitation Darcy needed to sweep his son immediately into his arms in a fierce hug.

Elizabeth bit back her happy cry as she watched her boy wrap his arms and legs tightly around his father while the two embraced each other. Will’s eyes were clenched as he swayed to and fro with his precious bundle. She could no longer stand idly by and joined the two, enveloping them in her arms and setting her head next to her husband‘s. She reached out and stroked his smooth cheek, surprised at how much lighter the skin which had been covered in beard that morning now looked.

William peeked out and smiled at his mama. His father kissed his top and then did the same to her. The little family stayed bound together for quite some time.

When the time came to finally sit, the three did so as a whole. William sat between them while Darcy’s arm lay across the back of the sofa so he could gently stroke Elizabeth’s shoulder as they spoke. She was glad for the comfort his touch gave her, for it had been a difficult day.

"William," Darcy began. "I know your mother has told you a great deal today, but I want you to know I truly do love you," he looked to Elizabeth, "and your mama. We mean to live as a family and never be parted again."

William nodded. "I would like to have a father, you for a father I mean."

"He is your father, William," Elizabeth gently reminded. William nodded but was now frowning.

"What disturbs you?"

"What if you vex one another again? I hear our cook sometimes. She and her husband shout at one another and they are married. What if you and Mama argue? Will you run away?"

Darcy’s hand grasped Elizabeth’s shoulder, but she quickly intervened. "No, my love. Neither of us will run away again. It is true that married people sometimes quarrel with one another, and I daresay you might hear your father and I do so, but we have promised to love and keep one another and you, for the rest of our lives, arguments or not. The promise we have made will never be broken, William. Do you understand?"

"You promise to keep me, as well?"

"You and any other children that come along," Will answered. "You might someday have brothers and sisters, should you like that?"

William’s eyes lit up. "Brothers and sisters? Oh, that would be delightful!"

Darcy hesitated when asking the next question. "Did your mother tell you what we will tell people about our lives, William? I am sorry we must ask you to tell a falsehood, but it must be done to protect all of us. Do you understand the reasons?"

William’s face fell slightly. "I do understand, sir. I know that people would be… upset if they knew you and mama were apart for so long."

Elizabeth squeezed her son’s hand gently. "When we speak to those who know us, they will be told your father and I came to Italy six years ago. No one can know about our living in Derbyshire. We must tell them you and I have been in Europe since you were born, and your father only visited us occasionally."

"Will I ever be called by my right name?" William asked.

Darcy and Elizabeth looked briefly at one another. "Someday, you can be known as William Darcy if you wish it. For now, if we wish to stay in Padua for your education, it will be better if I say I am Mr. William Cartwright. Then you and your mother will not have to move, and we can stay here for your education. The story is not far from the truth, I am your father and I am your mother’s husband. It is only our surname which we will change."

William nodded again, lost in deep thought as if finally deciding whether he would agree to the whole scheme. Elizabeth frowned and began to fidget. Darcy’s gave her shoulder a reassuring squeeze and she looked up to see him regarding her with great tenderness, but also a great deal of confidence. She drew upon his confidence, acknowledging the three of them would weather through these difficulties together and managed to smile back at him.

Neither had noticed William looking between the two of them, a much softer, happier expression upon his face. "May I… may I call you ‘Papa’?" he asked shyly. Elizabeth let out a short breath of relief.

Darcy’s lips pursed together to keep from breaking into a huge grin and risk the boy misinterpreting his reaction. He gathered his boy into his arms once again and kissed his worry away.

"I should treasure hearing you say it, Son," he answered honestly.

Several days later, many of Padua’s finest gossipmongers were buzzing with the news of the return of the lovely Mrs. Cartwright’s long absent husband. More than one man’s secretly harboured dreams were dashed when Mr. Cartwright, whom Signor Bergonzi could attest, turned out to be not only handsome, but in perfect health and of significant height and breadth. Their hope of one day comforting a widowed Mrs. Cartwright would apparently never come to fruition.

Higgins’ trip had lasted over a month after which he returned to a hero’s welcome. He carried with him a much lighter purse, and a document that would prove infinitely valuable to the two people he had come to care about most in the world. He happily presented the Darcys with a marriage license for them, dated the sixteenth of May, 1813, the day after Elizabeth had disappeared from London. The document was signed by the captain of the good ship Amberly, a passenger vessel which travelled between ports of the Channel. Their alibi was sealed.

Chapter Forty-One

Thomas Bennet left his library, the occasional sniffle still refusing to allow him his complete dignity. He asked his housekeeper and butler to turn away any visitors for the remainder of the day and verified Kitty and her husband, Walter, had arrived from Meryton and were waiting with the rest of the family in the drawing room. She assured him they were there, along with the Bingleys, and that his granddaughter Emily was upstairs in the nursery with the nursemaid. He tapped his pocket, sure that his wife’s smelling salts were secured and ready.

"I have received a most astonishing letter today, with wonderful news for us all," he began. "Elizabeth," there were gasps all around, "has written to us to announce that she is not lost, or perished, but is in fact alive, living in Italy and has been married these six years past to… Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy."

The smelling salts were out before his wife’s form slumped to the carpet.

Mr. Bennet continued the story much later. "And so despite her initial refusal of him in Kent, he never lost his affection for her and would have offered for her again in Derbyshire, had not Lydia and Wickham’s foolish actions separated them. Luckily for Elizabeth, when he returned from the continent, he sought her out again. By that time, she knew she had fallen hopelessly in love with him and happily gave her consent, whilst he convinced her he could not wait another moment. They were married on the ship they took to cross the Channel."

Bingley glanced briefly at Jane.

"But why the secrecy? Why not stay in England and marry here?" his wife whined.

"Because of your thoughtless youngest daughter, Mrs. Bennet. Lydia’s elopement had tainted our name and they feared Darcy’s family would prevent their union. Would you have risked them never being able to marry, just to appease your desire to see their wedding performed?"

Mrs. Bennet owned she would not.

"The Darcys decided to keep the marriage secret until they deemed it safe to announce it."

"What made them choose to announce it now?" Walter asked.

"I believe their staunchest enemy was none other than his aunt, Lady Catherine De Bourgh. She was convinced Mr. Darcy would marry her daughter and nothing would move her from her opinion. However, the daughter, Anne, is now living in town, away from her mother. Darcy knew he had to declare he was never going to offer for Miss De Bourgh if she is ever to find a husband.

"Lizzy writes she is very sorry for the suffering she has put us through, but promises to correspond regularly now that her husband has finally joined her and," he slyly added, "their son, permanently."

Mrs. Bennet’s eyes went wide. "A son? My Lizzy has a son?" The happy tears fell unabated when her husband nodded.

"Elizabeth and Mr. Darcy. I would never have guessed. Do you suppose he was in love with her when he and Charles lived at Netherfield?" Kitty asked.

"I dare say, yes. Else how would he have come to propose to her at Hunsford?" an astonished Mary answered.

"Oh, my dear Mr. Bennet. When shall we see them? I long to see how great my dear, sweet Lizzy is. He had ten thousand a year as I recall, and it’s very likely more now. Oh, Lord! I shall go distracted!"

"I am afraid it will be some time before we see the Darcys. Elizabeth states clearly they have no intentions to return to England for several years at least."

"But what of my grandson? Would they deny him to us?"

"Of course not, my dear. I believe they have simply chosen to not live here."

"Not live in England? Not live on that great estate of his in Derbyshire? My brother said there were few places its equal in the whole country!"

"And yet they choose Italy. Best to reconcile yourself to it, Mrs. Bennet. Lizzy writes that her husband can draw; perhaps we can persuade him to send us some sketches of the child."

"Oh, yes. That would do nicely. And what of our grandson? What is he called? How old is he?"

"His name is William Bennet Darcy and he is five years old."

Thus ended the group discussion and began the intimate gatherings of smaller groups in the drawing room. Mrs. Bennet’s happiness dissipated over the length of the evening as she slowly realised that, despite Lizzy’s overwhelming good fortune, without her now favourite daughter’s presence, she would have little proof to show to her neighbours.

Mr. Bennet approached Jane and Charles. "Despite your best attempts, I could not help but notice your surprise did not match your relatives’, Jane. Nor have I failed to notice how fortuitous it is that you and Bingley arrived this week, unannounced, and mere days before your sister’s letter came."

Bingley gave his wife an apprehensive look and turned to answer his father-in-law when Jane spoke up.

"I think you will find, Father, that should anyone in our family require it, Charles and I can be relied upon to provide help with the utmost discretion and earnestness," she answered without backing down.

Mr. Bennet stared at her in deep contemplation for some moments. Finally, he nodded. "You forgot devotion and tenacity, my dear. Our family, all our family are fortunate to have the two of you in it."

Mrs. Bennet’s effusions rang out above the room, drawing everyone’s attention. "Well at least Mary and I can rest easy now."

"Mary?" Mr. Bennet inquired. "How so? How can this affect dear Mary?"

"After you are dead and buried Mr. Bennet, which could happen any day, we shall no longer wonder what is to become of us!"

"I am sure Mr. Darcy’s wealth, while not unwelcome, would hardly have been necessary to sustain you, my dear. Charles and Walter both have said they would help you when that solemn occasion requires it."

"Mr. Darcy? Good heavens, Mr. Bennet, what are you talking of? Mary and I will not need his help. The Collinses have only a daughter. After her horrible lying in, Lady Lucas says Charlotte refuses to let her husband near her again. Lizzy’s son will inherit Longbourn!"

London, April 1819

Cousin Richard had received his letter a week prior to his relations, in order to prepare him for the coming storm. Richard had also wisely advised Anne that Darcy was about to announce he had married six years earlier and watched carefully to see if he could detect any signs of dashed hopes.

Far from it, Anne seemed almost relieved at knowing her cousin was no longer eligible and asked Richard for any details he knew of the lady. As per Darcy’s instructions, he said he knew of the marriage, but had been asked to keep it confidential. However, he truly astonished Anne when he announced their new cousin was none other than the former Elizabeth Bennet.

When his parents later stormed into the library, letter in hand, he was ready for the onslaught.

"How could you, Richard!" his father, the earl bellowed. "All these years married, and a son as well. Darcy married with an heir and you did not tell us?"

"It was not my responsibility to inform the family, father. It was Darcy’s. As he specifically asked for my secrecy, I do not see how you can be angry with me. I believe it is your nephew who deserves the rebuke and I do not appreciate being the whipping boy on his behalf."

His father was taken aback by Richard’s counter, but rightly acknowledged his son’s truth. "’Tis true, Richard. I am angry with Darcy. I apologise for rebuking you. This woman he has married - Elizabeth Bennet - we know nothing of her. She could be the greatest fortune hunter in England. What shall we do?"

"She had fortune enough, father. A property in the north, and several thousand pounds, so Darcy says. From what Georgiana writes, the lady is delightful, and she is thrilled to have her for a sister. Both of the McNallys commented the Darcys do not live extravagantly at all, quite simple by most people’s standards. If the woman was after his fortune, why would she hesitate to spend it while so conveniently removed from his family and censure for all these years? I think there must be true affection between them."

Lady Matlock intervened. "Affection? I hardly expected such a thing from Darcy. You truly think there is a real attachment between them? It would explain a great deal. But why hide the woman? Why not bring her and the boy to England?"

"I believe they had some struggles in the beginning. You remember the episode I had with Darcy at Pemberley in the year thirteen?" His father nodded. "The result of an estrangement they had early on. Darcy decided to educate Georgiana and see her married and settled before joining his wife again. He managed to get to the continent a few times a year, but it was difficult for the two of them to be apart so much."

"No wonder at his behaviour when Georgiana came out," his mother remarked. "He was always present at any function she attended, but never gave a glance to any lady. Even your father commented upon it. So he was married the entire time. Well, I think I must agree with your assessment; it must be a love match, for no man could have resisted the charms of all those lovely young ladies around him."

"You do not give Darcy much credit. He has always been an honourable man."

The earl snorted. "Honourable, yes. But no monk, Richard."

Richard’s voice rose. "I think should you be able to look inside Darcy’s heart, you would find a man who has been completely faithful to his wife, father. Be careful you do not insult your favourite nephew by intimating anything less virtuous on his part."

Surprise registered on his father’s face. "She must be an extraordinary woman."

"On that, sir, I believe we can completely agree. However, as they have chosen to remain on the Continent, you shall have to take his, my and Georgiana‘s word for it. For now, he merely wished to inform the family and expects us to keep it to ourselves. He has no desire to put an announcement in the London papers."

Suddenly the earl groaned, "We must tell Anne…"

"She already knows."

"She is not upset?" his mother asked, incredulous.

"Not in the least. If I interpret her correctly, I would say she was quite relieved to have Darcy off the marriage market. I believe his announcement was timed specifically to help aid her. I think he and Anne hope her mother‘s illusions will perhaps cease."

Lady Matlock smiled.

The earl groaned again, "Good heavens. Catherine."

The next day, Lord and Lady Matlock, Richard and Anne set off for Kent. They did not wait to hear from Catherine. No doubt some baleful letter was already making its way to Matlock Manor, but they had no qualms about missing it.

Richard and Anne told them what they could of Elizabeth based on the short acquaintance they had had with her many years ago. They also spoke of what the inevitable reaction from Lady Catherine would be. They were not prepared for what greeted them when they arrived at Rosings Park.

The housekeeper solemnly informed the family what had occurred the morning before. Lady Catherine’s reaction to Darcy’s announcement had been everything they had feared. Her rage had been great and long-winded, until her age, temper and exertion had culminated and turned against her, striking her down with an apoplectic seizure.

The doctor had been called, but the episode had already taken its toll. Her body now significantly crippled, she could no longer speak, nor even communicate her wishes through shaking her head, nor move her hands with any purpose. She was able to walk with assistance but did not seem to know where she was going. The only good that had come from her ailment was she seemed to be generally content. She was happy to see her servants when they entered her room, and she ate whatever was fed to her without fussing.

The housekeeper failed to say once the shock of their mistress’ ailment was overcome; the staff had rarely spent a more pleasant day attending their employer.

Richard had grasped Anne’s hand the moment the word seizure had been spoken. He looked to her often, prepared to comfort her in her distress, but only saw determination on the part of his cousin. When the housekeeper had finished, Lord Matlock stood to speak, when Anne began in a voice which brooked no refusal.

"Thank you, Mrs. Riley. I am sure the staff have been doing their usual admirable job. Please inform them of my sincere thanks and on behalf of my mother. I will see her directly, and I am sure the rest of the family will wish to as well, but later.

"Please see to arranging our rooms for us. Lord and Lady Matlock will want the blue and green suite, while my cousin Richard, I am sure, would appreciate his usual suite of rooms. Would that be acceptable to you Aunt, Uncle?" They nodded, shocked at Anne taking over so decidedly.

"Inform cook I would like dinner at half past six, for we are tired from the road and will probably retire early. Oh, and do tell her not to prepare any of my usual dishes. Send the menu to me in my mother’s room, but tell her I expect her to come up with simple fare for adults. I no longer keep to my former diet." She turned to her subdued relatives.

"I will see mother now; shall I send for you in an hour? Will that be sufficient time to refresh yourselves?"

Lady Matlock shook herself out of her daze first. "Yes, my dear, that would be fine." She exited with her husband trailing behind, leaving Richard and Anne still sitting on the couch. He still had her hand in his and was staring unabashedly at her.

"What?" she asked impertinently.

He raised her hand to his lips and bestowed a soft kiss upon it, lingering much longer than could ever be considered proper. " I… You have just managed to render my father speechless. Do you have any idea the enormity of such an event? Anne, dearest Anne, you are a heroine!"

She rolled her eyes. "I appreciate your attempt at levity, but it is not necessary, Richard. Mama is nearly three and sixty, I knew her days were numbered and I am not shocked she is finally infirm. This is my home, and I am now its mistress. I mean to take charge in my own way from the very first; you are merely observing me in my new position."

He gave her hand another squeeze. "You handled yourself exceedingly well, Anne. Please let me say how much I admire you at this moment. It was not only a treat to witness you come into your new role, but seeing you in this light has been… well, rather provocative."

Thus said, Richard Fitzwilliam did two things Anne had never seen in her life; he blushed, then slowly leaned over and kissed her cheek softly, brushing it lightly with his thumb before quickly excusing himself from his startled cousin.

Anne’s hand flew to her cheek. She stared slack-jawed towards the door for some time. Finally, her mouth clamped shut, but then slowly expanded into an ever widening smirk.

"Finally, Richard. You certainly took your time noticing!"

The year was significant for the families of Matlock, Fitzwilliam and De Bourgh for many reasons. Lord Matlock lived long enough to see his youngest son Richard finally wed to his beloved niece Anne and witnessed by his sister, and mother of the bride, Catherine.

A month after they were married, the family had gathered at Rosings to celebrate the return of the honeymooners. The earl had tenderly whispered in his sister’s ear that Richard would prove an excellent husband to Anne, and that she should not have another moment’s worry for them.

Apparently, Lady Catherine took the statement as a release of her duties to her daughter and her family, for she died peacefully in her sleep that night. The earl followed his sister not a month later at the age of five and sixty. Lady Matlock proved her enduring attachment to her husband by joining him in his heavenly reward before the year was out, the last of their generation.

The Fitzwilliams settled happily into Rosings Park, eventually opening the house to more of the social circle in Kent than ever before after their mourning period was over. Richard was pleased to see his Anne now happy as mistress of the house that once had nearly imprisoned her. Letters from the continent were regular and always a happy occasion to be read aloud and wondered over.

London, April 1819

The last letter sent was written to the Gardiners. It had been six years since Elizabeth had had any contact with them. She remembered all her aunt and uncle had done for her: their selfless help in opening their home to her and her sister when they had left Longbourn, and her uncle’s support in starting Johnson’s cigar shop to provide her with employment and independence. She owed them so much and yet she had treated them so poorly. She alone had betrayed their trust and had injured their precious relationship.

With a heavy heart, full of contrition, she did her best to convey her remorse for the suffering she had inflicted upon them. She did not trivialise the pain she knew she must have caused them by running away. To have the young woman they loved and cared for almost as a daughter disappear while under their authority must have caused them a great deal of guilt all these years. They would have been thinking they had failed her and her family by not protecting her.

The sombre letter begged for their forgiveness, and soberly announced her marriage. She wrote of her son, and their life in Padua. Lastly, she wrote her sincere thanks to them for all they had done for her when she had been estranged from her father.

Weeks later the reply came. They were at the house in Abano when Darcy noticed her absence and went looking for her in the nearby woods. She sat at the base of a great evergreen, seemingly calm until she raised a stricken face to him.

"What has happened?"

"It is from my Aunt and Uncle Gardiner. There is nothing to be alarmed about, it is simply…" Her lip quivered and he was instantly at her side taking her in his arms.

"Oh, Will. How it pains me to receive such a letter!" His grip tightened around her and he whispered words of comfort and love to her until she began to compose herself.

"Did they rebuke you?"

She shook her head. Her eyes glanced over the paper once more. "I am sure some would read this and not be disturbed in the slightest, but I know them better. I know what it was like between us in the past." She gave him the letter.

Dear Elizabeth,

Your uncle and I are very happy to learn you are well and married to Mr. Darcy. Please accept our felicitations on your marriage. I am sure your mother and father were greatly relieved by your news, and we are pleased you have reconciled with them and, though not in person, are returned to your family.

Your uncle and I do not hesitate to forgive your actions of so many years ago. We can rest easy now knowing nothing terrible had befallen you.

Your Mr. Darcy is an excellent man. We have had several occasions to meet him at the Bingley’s home in the past and think it a very good match for both of you. We are sure you will enjoy being mistress of Pemberley.

Please send your husband and your son, William our kindest regards and best wishes for future happiness.

Sincerely,

M. Gardiner

"Oh, my sweet wife. I am sorry."

"I knew how it would be. I betrayed their trust and now they cannot reconcile themselves to open their hearts to me again."

Darcy nodded. "But there is no resentment. I do not see resentment, only caution, and the need to protect themselves. Surely you can understand that?"

"I do, but I mourn the loss of the intimacy we once had shared. The easy, close and deep affection that had once flowed between us must be gone."

"I recognise their reaction; I used it often myself. They are putting distance between you, to keep themselves safe from the pain of caring too much."

Elizabeth agreed. "I regret having caused yet more loved ones pain. I deserve this. I deserve a letter that could have been written by Lady Lucas instead of a most beloved aunt. My father once asked what price I had paid to bring about the family’s respectability. I think this is it. I have lost their good opinion. This letter proves that as much by what she has written but also by what she has not."

"Darling, give them time. Allow them to have their pains eased over time."

Elizabeth disagreed. "I do not think it will change. There is no mention of anything personal here. They do not share their lives or feelings with me, nor do they ask about mine. There is no future wish of ever seeing one another. They are lost to me, Will, and I have no one to blame but myself." She began to cry in earnest, and Darcy could only hold his grieving wife and give her tender attentions until she had at last quieted.

In the future they did see the Gardiners again, but the relationship never developed the closeness or warmth both Elizabeth and Will knew they might have had. The two of them were ever sensible of the warmest gratitude towards the Gardiners and strove to comport themselves as better persons in honour of the two people who had given so much to Elizabeth when she was most in need. However, the pain in Elizabeth’s heart would never completely heal and she would always regret the suffering she had caused her loved ones.

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