Chapter Twenty
Posted on Thursday, 10 April 2008
"Who knew leaving Mr Darcy and Elizabeth together would turn out quite so well," rhapsodised Mrs Bennet to her husband. "It was a good idea of mine, was it not? Sometimes all these men need is a little push. And as lovely as our daughters are... well!"
Mr Bennet smirked as he nodded his agreement, then withstood another barrage of his wife's gloating about the fact Mr Darcy was worth ten thousand a year.
"We must make it a double wedding!" cried Mrs Bennet. "All the neighbourhood shall envy our good fortune -- two daughters married and to such fine, rich gentlemen. It must be before the end of summer. We shall have arbours festooned with flowers from the doorway of the church to the carriages. And such a wedding breakfast as has never been tasted in these parts! The glazed hams! The rashers of bacon! It will be sumptuous!"
It was a blessing that Mrs Bennet found Mr Darcy to be such an alarmingly impressive personage that she was somewhat less effusive in his presence. She did, however, make it her mission to discover all his favourite foods and present them for his enjoyment upon her dining table every evening.
The courting couples spent the greater part of their days enjoying the fresh air and warm sunshine in the gardens of Longbourn. The recuperative powers of such a setting combined with the sources of happiness his engagement provided soon had Mr Darcy restored to full health. Each day he was able to walk further and further until the rose garden was not enough and the little wilderness on one side of the house became the favoured destination.
"I can quite see how you got on once you were fully in love with me," teased Elizabeth one morning, "but how did it all start? I do recall that at that first assembly I did not make a good impression upon you at all."
"I may well ask the same question, my dearest Elizabeth. I remember very clearly a time when I was the last man on earth you would consider allying yourself with." His smile showed that he bore no bitter feelings at this recollection.
"I must admit," said Lizzy, grinning wickedly, "that while I held you in aversion for quite some time, I think it was love at first sight with the dragon."
"What a strange woman you are, Miss Elizabeth Bennet," he said, half amused. "For you must know that most maidens would run screaming from a dragon. I could not believe when you touched me. Petted my... my muzzle."
Lizzy felt herself blush. Oh, it had been all that was improper, but she could not regret it. The remembered feel of the dragon's muzzle under her hand made her wonder only when she would get to touch it again. Surely, when they were married! "Well," she said, to distract him. "Then all Bennet girls are very unusual women, for Lydia can talk of nothing but the dragon. Why, I am sure if she found out you and he are one, she would bid fair to attach you, even now."
He laughed, as it seemed despite himself. "No one can attach me but you, Elizabeth. Though I must say it is very odd to hear my prospective sister in law describe my other self in such glowing terms."
"I'd have described your other self in just such glowing terms, myself, were I silly enough to think it should be spoken of," Elizabeth said, lightly. "Particularly," she said, guessing the memory kindled him as much as herself. "After I got to pet your muzzle."
Heat glowed in the depth of Darcy's jewel-like eyes, and Elizabeth could almost see the dragon begging for release as his face closed upon hers.
"And now?" he asked, his breath warm on her cheek.
"And now I know I always saw your heart when I looked into the dragon's eyes. It was always you that I loved, for the two of you are one -- inseparable." She turned her face, and when their lips met it was like when a sudden gust of wind brings a fire from smouldering coals to great bursts of flame.
"Our wedding day cannot come too soon," whispered Darcy as he broke away and held her from him. "We must resume walking and talk of something mundane."
"Like the size of the garden, and the number of trees?" asked Lizzy, her eyebrows arching provocatively.
"Yes," said Darcy agreeably, "you could comment on the number of birds and I could possibly say something about the late roses."
They continued walking side by side and Elizabeth laid her head upon his shoulder in pure contentment.
Darcy could never acknowledge it to Elizabeth, but there was one cloud upon his happiness, and that cloud was Georgiana. He'd found -- very recently -- that Georgiana was engaged in secret correspondence with a gentleman.
Oh, perhaps he should talk to Lizzy about it. Perhaps Lizzy could talk to Georgiana about it. But though the two were very close, Darcy couldn't bring himself to betray his sister's secret. He couldn't even bring himself to the point of reading her correspondence. The one page he'd found, amid his bed covers while she was still nursing him, gave rise to the liveliest concern, but he feared talking to her.
Georgiana was still so wounded over the death of Icarus Sevrin. How could Darcy wound her anew?
He remembered phrases from the letter -- at the time he'd been too ill to focus on or remember the whole of it -- liveliest regard for your goodness.... Your kindness, your grace, your courage, your purity.... The terrible pain both of us carry.
Were it not that the outside was addressed to a Mr. E. O. Malven, Darcy would not at all have felt such dread. Oh, writing to a gentleman she was not engaged to was a breach of social propriety, and Darcy supposed so was keeping a new attachment from him. But Darcy would have been so happy to discover Georgiana's heart was healing, he'd not have cared that much for propriety.
Unfortunately, he'd investigated and found that Mr. E. O. Malven was but a footman, in the employ of Lord Wildale. While this proved greater reason for Georgiana keeping her correspondence secret, it did nothing to reassure him. And later, coming into the house from a visit to Elizabeth, he found Georgiana, hastily hiding yet another letter -- he was sure of it -- in the book she was reading. How did Georgiana get these letters? And how could he stop it?
Oh, he'd do anything to ensure his sister's happiness. She deserved no less. And if this Mr. Malven truly loved her, Darcy would find a way for her to attain her heart's desire. But what were the chances a mere footman wasn't playing for his sister's thirty thousand pounds?
One morning the Bennet family was at breakfast when the sound of a carriage assailed them from the front sweep.
"Who could that be?" queried Mrs Bennet. She turned her eyes accusingly to her husband. "Company you have forgotten to inform me of, my dear?"
"I am as in the dark as you," he replied. "But we shall find out soon enough who has seen fit to disturb our morning meal."
As the visitors were being escorted along the hallway, the courting couples took the moments of distraction to escape through the French windows into the seclusion of the summer garden.
"Lady Catherine de Bourgh and Mr Collins," announced Hill, showing the guests in.
"Welcome," said Mrs Bennet, standing in awe of their illustrious guest.
"A pleasant room," said Lady Catherine. "But a trifle small for such a large table as this. When you are living here, Mr Collins, the first thing you must do is procure a smaller table of a much lighter design."
"Ook," he agreed.
"For general use, we do not put the central leaf in this table, your Ladyship," Mrs Bennet was quick to point out, "but as you most certainly have heard, our two eldest daughters are recently engaged and their fiancés take their breakfast with us every morning."
"You are Miss Elizabeth Bennet's mother?" said Lady Catherine, deigning to sit in the chair Mr Bennet had drawn out for her. "And this, I presume, is her father."
"Indeed," admitted Mrs Bennet, sitting again now that the grand lady was seated. "And these are our younger daughters." She waved her arm in a sweep around the table.
"Yes, yes," said Lady Catherine. "Mr Collins has told me all about them. ‘Tis a pity your family was not smaller." She turned to Mr Bennet and stared him up and down. "You seem in good health. A fine thing for you and your wife, no doubt, but I would rather for my protégé's sake that you were in your dotage and quite infirm."
"I am most sorry not to have been able to oblige you in your wish," said Mr Bennet, his eyes sparkling with hidden mirth.
"I have come to accept that life is never how one would like it," said Lady Catherine. "My own daughter became engaged to the wrong nephew, and now this! Fitzwilliam throwing himself away upon your daughter!"
"A hardship indeed," said Mr Bennet.
"I have decided to make the best of it," said Lady Catherine magnanimously, "and have come this morning for the purpose of lending you my good parson here to perform the ceremony."
"You are too good to us!" cried Mrs Bennet, impressed with such condescension.
"I quite agree," said Lady Catherine, "but as I am to attend the ceremony as my nephew's nearest relative, I felt that at least I could ensure that the sermons I was to hear would be intelligible. Some country parsons are so completely inept at sermonising."
"Ook, ook, ook," intoned Mr Collins, in an effort to prove her point.
"You will pardon my asking," said Mr Bennet, his lips pulling convulsively up at the corners, "but I had come to believe that Miss Darcy, as the man's sister, was Mr Darcy's nearest relative."
"Miss Darcy is not yet out!" cried Lady Catherine. "As such she cannot be said to count. Girls matter for nothing when they're not yet out. I have come to lend her my services as a companion until her brother is married. I was most seriously displeased when it came to my attention that she has been at Netherfield these two weeks without so much as a ladies maid! She must come to live with me once her brother is married. I will not be denied."
"Mr Darcy, no doubt, will be most pleased with your presence here," said Mr Bennet, "though you do seem to be misinformed. Miss Darcy's companion, Mrs Annesley, is residing at Netherfield with her. Is that not so, my dear?" He turned to his wife with this last comment.
"Yes! Yes!" said Mrs Bennet. "A very genteel lady, by all accounts."
"That is all very well," said Lady Catherine, "but in trying times such as this, family is the best balm to the spirits. I am sure my niece is just as cut up about her brother's dreadful choice of a wife as I am. It must be due to his parents dying while he was still so young. I gave him what direction I could, but somehow he has not the understanding of his responsibility to his family name that he should."
Mrs Bennett rut-tutted consolingly while Lydia and Kitty tittered and Mary ran biblical texts through her mind, sure that there was something fitting she could say, if she had dared to open her mouth in the presence of Lady Catherine de Bourgh, that is.
"Well," said Mr Bennet, rising from the table, "I think it is time for me to go in search of your nephew and inform him what sort of pleasure is in store for him. It has been most edifying meeting you, your Ladyship."
Lady Catherine nodded in a most superior manner and then turned to Mr Collins with more recommendations on how he ought refurbish Longbourn when it came into his possession. "And you must have more braised kidneys upon your breakfast table," she said. "Why the portions of kidneys are almost shamefully small."
"Your ladyship must understand," Mrs. Bennet said. "Normally we would have far more braised kidneys. It's just that my youngest Lydia is so very partial to bacon and... and braised ham, that we must cater to her fancy."
"Um..." Lady Catherine said, as she turned her monocle on Lydia. "Haven't I heard some scandal about you young lady?"
As Lydia snorted, Mrs. Bennet hurried to cover it up. "No, indeed. It was the greatest falsehood. It is true our dear girl was taken from us by force, but she returned as soon as possible, with her reputation untarnished."
"I was returned," Lydia said, her voice turning dreamy. "On dragon back."
Again the monocle went up, horridly magnifying Lady Catherine's eye as she peered at Lydia. "A dragon! Singular. Why would you voluntarily associate with such a corrupted creature?"
This time Lydia's snort fell into the room like a drum roll, before anyone could so much as look up -- much less cover it up. "Corrupted? What nonsense. Come Kitty. Let us go play ball in the garden. I will not sit here and listen to such twaddle for anything."
And before Lady Catherine's disbelieving eyes and Mrs. Bennet's mortified ones, the two girls ran out through the French doors.
The day of the wedding was finally upon them. Colonel Fitzwilliam and his new bride, Anne, arrived at Netherfield the evening previous, having discovered beforehand, much to their dismay, that Lady Catherine had ensconced herself there, and thus arriving a week later than they had planned to avoid spending more time with Anne's fond mama than strictly necessary.
The colonel joined Darcy in his chamber as his valet was putting the final touches upon his ensemble.
"The neck cloth is perfection, Jeeves," he said. "You may leave your master in my hands now."
Jeeves eyed him suspiciously, but left the room.
"What is it, Cousin?" asked Darcy.
"I thought, in lieu of a parent, that I could give you some advice about your wedding night."
"I have no need of advice," said Darcy, his cheeks displaying sudden spots of high colour. He was not absolutely sure whether there was a mischievous spark in Fitzwilliam's eye, but knowing Fitzwilliam, he wasn't willing to bet otherwise. And Fitzwilliam looked happy, contented, in a way Darcy had never seen him look before.
"Come," said the colonel, "we both know that you haven't sewn any wild oats for fear they might be dragon spawn."
"My father-in-law-to-be informs me that there is little chance of producing offspring that carry my affliction," said Darcy.
"Do not tell me that Mr Bennet has had this talk with you!"
Darcy coloured even more. "No. Not this talk. No one has had this talk with me. No one but you would dare, Fitzwilliam!" He didn't add, but he thought you vessel of impudence . "Only about what to expect of children Elizabeth and I might have."
The colonel sat on Darcy's bed and leaned back upon his pillows nonchalantly, raising a leg and resting his hand upon his knee. "Married life is delightful. Quite the most excellent thing," he said. "Better by far than anything I had experienced beforehand."
"Are you trying to make me believe you had extensive experience in the department? I may have restrained myself completely, but I know you were almost as . . . why if not for that barmaid in Essex!"
"Ah, but at least there was a barmaid in Essex!" retorted the colonel smugly. "And I must assure you my wife is much better than the barmaid in Essex. Why Anne's eagerness is such that--"
"Fitzwilliam!" Darcy said, horrified. "I do not need to hear this about my cousin."
Fitzwilliam laughed. "No. In truth, if you knew all, you'd regret you didn't follow my mother-in-law's plan for you and Anne." His face grew grave, suddenly. "You have some fear, do you not?"
Darcy looked fiercely over at his cousin, paced around the room for a moment, and then gave up and sighed. "You know I have always worried that I would not be able to keep myself in check -- that I might change form during . . ." Darcy broke off and stared out the window.
"During lovemaking?" asked his cousin with a grin. "I hardly think so. You will be much too caught up in the act of being a man."
"But man and beast are so intertwined!" cried Darcy. "And Elizabeth, she . . . she . . ." He stood there, hesitating between window and hearth. He could not tell his cousin how Elizabeth was enthralled by his dragon self, or the earthly feelings his dragon side had for Elizabeth.
"Do not stand about in such a foolish manner!" Colonel Fitzwilliam stood up from the bed and came over to pat his cousin on the back. "You love Miss Elizabeth and she loves you. Mark my words, just let that be your guide and everything else will fall into place most nicely. Well . . . not fall, precisely, but ... All shall rise to the occasion. You get my drift, don't you?" He grinned.
Darcy grinned back ruefully. "You are such a cad," he said. "I never should have let you goad me into an admission of any sort. I knew you only wanted to tease me."
"Come," said Colonel Fitzwilliam, "we have a wedding to attend." And with a flourish he bowed towards the door. "Lead the way!"
Lizzy had been in a flutter all night, such that she had hardly slept at all. She'd packed and repacked her trunks twice, and her excitement and nervousness were only made bearable by knowing that Jane was equally awake and going through the same. Now and then the two sisters would meet in one or the other's room, seeking each other's company in the sleeping house.
"Oh, Lizzy, I cannot believe we won't be living in the same house anymore!" Jane said.
"We will doubtless often be in company, though," Lizzy said.
"Doubtless," Jane said, and went back to her room to pack yet another dress, then she returned, yet again. "Oh, Lizzy, I hope... that is... I hope you and Mr. Darcy will often fly in to visit us. Not... not and risk himself, but..."
Thus had the night passed for the two sisters, and now they entered a chapel crowded with flowers and well-wishing relatives. Mr. Darcy and Mr. Bingley were already at the altar, respectively supported by Colonel Fitzwilliam and Mr. Hurst.
As they entered the chapel, each on her father's arm, Lizzy could not help but notice that Mr. Collins, standing at the pulpit, holding the bible, looked ... somewhat hairier than usual. She leaned over to her father and said, "Papa, please tell me Mr. Collins didn't..."
Mr. Bennet chuckled. "Indeed, I'm afraid he did. This should be a very ook interesting ceremony."
Less amused than her father, wondering whether being married by an orangutan was strictly legal, not to mention sanctioned by the Church of England, Lizzy was delivered, blushing, beside her bridegroom, who graced her with a somewhat worried smile.
Mr. Collins stood in front of the two couples and spoke, while gesticulating with his unusually long arms. "Ook, oook oooook, ook." He grinned, showing very large teeth. In the front row, Charlotte Collins hid her face in her hands.
Mr. Collins continued for a while in this manner, while Lady Catherine nodded, approvingly. She couldn't resist leaning over to her daughter and saying, "How very moving it is, what he says about marriage. You too could have had a lovely ceremony, if you'd not married to displease me."
Anne Fitzwilliam gave her mother an almost frightened look and moved slightly away from her, just as Mr. Collins said, insistently, to Mr. Darcy, in a definite querying tone, "
Ook ook oooook ook?"
There was a slight hesitation on the part of the gentleman, and Mr. Collins looked up at him so closely that their foreheads touched.
"Yes," Mr. Darcy shouted. "That is, I do take Elizabeth Anne Bennet to be my legally wedded wife."
"Well!" Lady Catherine told Georgiana, seated on her other side. "There was no need for your brother to repeat all that so rudely. You can tell he is nervous." Her stage-whisper carried throughout the church.
"Oook, ook, ook?" Mr. Collins asked Lizzy.
"Yes, I do take Mr. Fitzwilliam Fenris Darcy to be my lawfully wedded husband," Lizzy said.
"Well. How very strange of them," Lady Catherine commented, as Jane and Bingley too repeated the vows full voice.
Mr. Collins knuckled over the lectern, where he cooed "ook" so movingly that there was not a dry eye in the chapel, not even when he took off his shoe and, after pensively toying with the shoelaces, set it upside down atop his head.
When he pronounced a very final "ook" everyone ran from the church, except Mr. Bennet who remained in his pew, doubled over with laughter, and Mrs. Bennet who said, in a confused tone, "I cannot believe that he made such a muddle of the sermon. I'm fairly certain that the man has a speech impediment!"
Mr. Bennet finally recovered enough to say, "I'm sure that is the matter, my dear. Absolutely sure." He grinned, patting her arm.
"Two daughters married," Mrs. Bennet said. "I shall go distracted."
"Indeed. The Good Lord has been very good to us."
A month later, after a wedding trip to the Lake Region, Mr. And Mrs. Darcy returned to Pemberley, where Darcy was surprised to find he had a visitor waiting.
"A visitor?" he asked Mrs. Reynolds. "But we're not... that is, we have not announced we're receiving visitors, yet. Even Georgiana won't arrive till next week!"
"I realize it is so, sir, and yet, Lord Wildale has been waiting for you these two hours, in some agitation of mind. He came earlier, you see, last week, and we told him you were expected today. I am sure I didn't mean to trespass, but he seemed so distraught that it was all we could..."
"No, no," Mr. Darcy said, waving away her concern as he looked down at Elizabeth on his arm. Elizabeth nodded. "I am sure you did what you must do. After all, you have untold experience with this family. We must trust you." He thought that Lord Wildale was, after all, the master of the servant that Georgiana seemed to be corresponding with and hoped that he wasn't about to be visited with some scandal right after his wedding trip.
The man who came in seemed like anything but a harbinger of scandal. He was tall, dark haired and pale, with a definite distinction of gesture and movement. He wore the sort of clothes where a lot of money enhances an already good figure.
"Mr. Darcy," he said, bowing slightly. "I believe we've been in introduced at..."
"That is correct," Mr. Darcy said. "At Whites. By Pickens."
"Yes. I was afraid you wouldn't remember." Still looking agitated, he graced Darcy with a fugitive smile. "The situation is such that I feel I am already trespassing upon good manners and good taste approaching you like this, but... Were I not to, I beg you to believe I would be making a worse trespass."
Darcy's heart went cold. He was about to hear of Georgiana's transgressions. There might be nothing for it, but marrying her to a servant.
Lord Wildale commenced pacing back and forth across the room, clasping and unclasping his hands behind his back. Darcy, watching him, was half minded to ask Elizabeth if he, too, was this irritating when he couldn't find words.
The same thought must have been in Elizabeth's mind, because she cleared her throat and asked, with just a hint of amusement in her voice, "Lord Wildale? What is it you wish to communicate to us?"
Her voice arrested the man, mid-stride. He turned to Darcy, colouring deeply as he did so. "Georgiana... That is... Miss Darcy says... Oh, you're going to think I'm the worst of cads!"
He was the worst of cads. Not his servant. This must surely mean... Darcy was afraid to think. In either case he didn't want anyone to be a cad to his sister. Almost dizzy with worry, he said, "Certainly I will think so, should you not explain yourself."
"Oh, I will," Lord Wildale said. "Explain myself, that is. You see... Miss... Miss Darcy and I have common interests," he said, and foundered.
"You play the piano," Elizabeth asked. "Or perhaps paint water colours?"
Lord Wildale gave her a look as if she were out of her mind. "No. I... Mr. Darcy, you must know I was before this engaged to a Miss Winter."
"Miss Winter!" Darcy said, in a tone that seemed to say the name explained all. "She was the one who..." He stopped. "She was like my friend, Icarus Sevrin."
"Yes," Lord Wildale said, and went slightly pale. "And suffered the same fate."
"Oh," Elizabeth said, understanding. "My most earnest condolences. I--"
Lord Wildale bowed. "I thank you, Mrs. Darcy, but... you see... Georg... Miss Darcy and I started corresponding. We put in place a network to... to stop other people in similar circumstances from..."
"From suffering the like fate," Lizzy said. "How brave of you."
"And how foolhardy. I'd not have my sister endanger herself that way."
"She wanted to," he said. "She's... she's so brave and honorable and... and compassionate. I... we started as a common cause, but..." He blushed deeply. "She told me that she was sure you'd found one of my letters, and truly, nothing more could be done than for me to come to you and speak..." He looked at his feet. "My feelings for Miss Darcy are steady and abiding and... and I have her permission to ask you for your permission in addressing her."
Darcy, relieved, dizzy and more than a little worried about his sister's adventure, but understanding the impulse that led her to it and the generosity of spirit in this man who obviously had not entered into the business to trifle with her and now apparently cared very deeply for her, said, "With all my heart. She... she will be coming home next week."
"I know," Lord Wildale said. "Do I have your permission... that is... would I be allowed to escort her from London?"
"Your escort would be much appreciated," Darcy said. He felt as if he should be protecting his sister, but at the same time, he had learned with Lizzy that brave women should be allowed to be adults and take their risks if they must.
In the evening, Darcy and Elizabeth were nestled in each other's arms, the French windows of their chamber open to a wide balcony. Honeysuckle festooned a trellis covering the outer wall, the fragrance drifting into the room upon the late summer breeze.
"This is Pemberley! It is more beautiful than I had ever imagined." said Elizabeth with a contented smile. "I am so happy to finally be here."
"And I am happier still to have you here in our home. If it was wonderful to me before, it is more so now. You complete it." He stroked her hair and rested his head against hers, looking out as the sun drifted slowly down into the distant oaks, painting them with brilliant fire.
"Could you take me on a tour of the grounds right now?" Elizabeth asked eagerly. "My Aunt Gardiner always spoke of a pony and cart, but I can think of no better way to explore this enchanting estate but on dragon back." She turned in her husband's arms and reached up to untie his neck cloth.
Darcy felt his muscles ripple with the urge to change. He had not done so since accosting Wickham on that dreadful day. He had thought it best to keep his affliction under good regulation while staying at Netherfield, so as not to draw undue attention to the neighbourhood. Lydia's talk of dragons had been difficult to contain. So had his inner dragon. With every full moon it had longed for release, and now, though the moon was still not waxed complete, he felt such stirrings that he knew would be impossible to resist. And the idea of his wife Elizabeth riding upon his back made the prospect all the more irresistible.
"You shall see all of Pemberley as you have never seen a place before," he promised as he assisted Elizabeth's unpracticed hands with his buttons.
She reached a hand in, under the folds of brocade and linen, and stroked it along the smooth, firm skin of his chest, as he completed the task on his own and pulled waistcoat and shirt off. "That this skin can become golden scales is something I still find overwhelming," she breathed. "But is it entirely safe for you? The sun has not quite set."
"I am ever safe at Pemberley," said Darcy, taking her hand in his and kissing it before removing the rest of his clothing. "And sunset gilds the land with such beauty -- there is no better sight, I promise you."
They shared a kiss, and then he led her through the open windows. With every step he took, his body rippled and changed, and then the dragon was before Elizabeth, head curved down towards her on its long, sinuous neck. She reached out and gently ran her hand over his muzzle and down the length of his neck to where his shoulder muscles flexed with anticipation.
"Surprising that scales can be so smooth," she whispered, as he crouched down in an invitation for her to climb aboard. Swiftly she mounted him and circled her arms around his neck, resting her head against the glowing gold. Her knees gripped his ribs. She could feel the pounding of his heart run through her. "I am ready!"
His wings unfurled and with a few, sure beats, he swiftly rose up from the balcony into the evening sky. The breeze took Elizabeth's unbound hair and sent it streaming behind her as the dragon swooped across the pleasure gardens and then spiralled up towards the crimson sky, gold scales burnished copper by the brilliant rays of the setting sun.
The End
© 2006, 2007, 2008 Copyright held by the author.