Summer at
Pemberley
a Jane Austen fan fiction
by Lucy
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By
Elizabeth's persuasion
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Darcy had spent the better part of the morning in his study
completing estate business and correspondence he wished concluded before the
arrival of the Bingley party on the morrow. His tasks successfully accomplished
he rose from his meticulously ordered desk and stretched; he thought he might
go for a ride and get some exercise, but then thought the better of it as the
morning was nearly past. He walked leisurely to the large window that
overlooked the trout stream and leaned his tall form against the frame of the
opened window. After two days of rain, it was a glorious morning. The sun was
bright, the breeze was mild and the sky a clear, cloudless blue. The prospect
from his study was one of his favorites. It was not the most expansive, like
that to be had from the master bedchambers or the public rooms, but was instead
almost intimate. From here he could see not only the gentle course of the trout
stream that had provided such delightful distractions since boyhood, but also
the lovely canopied pathway that led from the rose garden to the cutting
gardens where he could still recall his mother selecting flowers for the house.
As a boy he had occasionally accompanied her, only to sit in quiet observation
of her occupation, participating in the stillness with which the household
tacitly surrounded her in consequence of her delicate and timid disposition, so
unlike the robust and vibrant disposition of his father. They had been, in
character if not in station, improbably matched; respectful, loyal, dedicated
to one another, certainly, and yet he could not recall any particular warmth.
He remained at his window and indolently considered the
lovely morning. After a time he saw, under the canopied pathway and coming from
the direction of the cutting garden, his wife and sister, walking arm in arm.
Elizabeth wore a simple, white muslin gown and dangled a basket filled with
yellow flowers from her hand. She was looking tenderly at Georgiana while she,
in turn, appeared to be conversing enthusiastically. He did not know which to
admire more, his unaffectedly lovely wife or his surprisingly grown sister. He
settled easily on admiring them both and enjoying the gratifying affability of
their intercourse. For although he did greedily lament the loss of Elizabeth's
exclusive companionship since Georgiana's return, he nonetheless took great
pleasure in each exchange that he witnessed between them. He could see in
Georgiana's every expression that she was sincerely delighted in having a
sister and a confidant. And he likewise perceived that Elizabeth offered to
Georgiana the same tender sisterly devotion that was Jane's and he treasured
Elizabeth the more for this natural easiness of confidence that he had so often
felt unable to provide his beloved sister. Their mutual regard was sincere and
increased daily and for this he was grateful.
The sound of Elizabeth's laughter rose into the air and
drifted toward his window. As that now familiar and beloved sound reached his
ears he did not move and he did not smile, yet his entire spirit was pervaded
with a sense of peace that was visible upon his countenance. That he should
have found the source of such peace--this incomparable woman--in a village of
no consequence and in the midst of an often impossibly careless family,
remained, for Darcy, an unspoken source of astonishment.
Elizabeth and Georgiana neared the house and Elizabeth
pulled her arm from Georgiana's, raised her hand to the ribbon tied neatly
beneath her chin and pulled on it. Releasing the bow, she removed the bonnet
from her head and revealed her glowing and smiling face to Darcy's secret
observation. She was listening attentively to Georgiana's conversation and as
they turned toward the house Elizabeth stepped absent mindedly, her foot
falling into a small puddle in the pathway, not yet dried by the morning's sun.
On his sister's face Darcy could read Georgiana's immediate concern for the
soiled hem and on Elizabeth's her evident lack of concern for the same. He
could not hear the words from their lips, but imagined Elizabeth telling
Georgiana that it was nothing to be bothered about.
As Darcy watched them he unexpectedly discovered the answer
to Elizabeth's once proffered inquiry: when did he fall in love with her? What could set you off in the
first place? At the
time she had playfully made the inquiry he had responded that he could not know
when he had begun, and yet as he watched her now he suddenly understood
precisely when he had begun, precisely what had set him off in the first
place. For as
clearly as he watched her walking into the house now, the hem of her white
muslin slightly soiled, he saw her walking into Netherfield, her petticoat six
inches deep in mud. Elizabeth had stood before the censorious Netherfield party
defiant, independent, challenging, and bravely impassive to their
disapprobation. Bingley's sisters had said she looked almost wild, and indeed
she had: her cheeks flushed, her eyes particularly bright, her hair tousled,
her entire appearance in minor disarray, her petticoat infamously sullied. In
that one singular moment, however, he had seen her--her character, her person,
her spirit--entirely stripped of civility's guise and he had been overcome with
an unfamiliar, profound admiration which he had swiftly done all in his power
to deny, as if to flee from the consequent want, need, desire, longing that
welled uncontrollably within his breast. How could he, then, when she had
inquired of the same, have not know that had been the moment when he had lost
his heart? Perhaps because while his every instinct had reached for her, his
head, his rational self had not similarly done so until after her rejection of
his hand at Hunsford. That morning in the Netherfield breakfast room he had
pushed aside the moment's insight as quickly as it had captured him. But now
when he was in every respect so happily, passionately, rationally hers he could
recognize the truth of that passing moment's revelation.
He could never have dreamt then, bewitched and troubled as
he was, that in that daring, poised, pretty country girl with the muddied
petticoat he had stumbled upon the very thing he had never thought to want: his
soul's companion. She had reached him, touched him in some restless, lonely,
secret portion of his being and filled what he had not consciously recognized
was empty.
A knock on the door roused Darcy from his revelry. Matthews
entered the study and delivered the days post. Bringing his thoughts back to
the present and the practical, Darcy stood at his desk and quickly reviewed the
post, stopping at one with handwriting grown lately familiar. He opened it and
found a short and in all ways satisfactory correspondence.
Gracechurch Street, London
Dear Mr. Darcy, Mrs. Gardiner and I have received your
letter and find once again your power of persuasion too daunting to dismiss.
While Mrs. Gardiner had indeed indicated to Lizzy that my business would not
allow time away this summer, we relent to your argument and your plotting. We
will make the effort you so generously demand of us and we will be at Pemberley
on the appointed day. It will, however, be a visit of necessarily short
duration and so the children will not accompany us. One point that puzzles me,
however, is why these plans must remain secret. Pray, enlighten me.
Yours etc.
Edward Gardiner
"Excellent!" Darcy cried, as he sat down at his
desk and quickly scribed a response.
June 18__
Pemberley, Derbyshire
Dear Mr. Gardiner, I am delighted that I have been
successful in pleading my case. I trust the secrecy is no great burden to bear
and as for its cause, can you not simply indulge a gentleman's wish to indulge
his wife? Elizabeth was disappointed by your initial denial and will be
delighted by its rectification. When you do arrive we will have been so filled
with guests that I am sure she will quite overlook that your arrival will be so
particularly timed. She will rightly accuse me of maudlin feelings I am sure,
but for this one time I care not. I await your arrival with great pleasure and
expect that this year will provide ample opportunity for the fishing plans,
among others, that were last summer so regrettably delayed.
Yours etc.
Fitzwilliam Darcy
The letter sealed and dispatched, Darcy went in search of said
wife, finding her in her sitting room accompanied by Georgiana. Each was
happily occupied, Georgiana embroidering, Elizabeth reviewing menus for the
coming visits.
"Good morning, my dears," Darcy intoned
contentedly as he entered the room and took a seat on the chair across from
Elizabeth's table after properly greeting each. "How do I find you this
morning?"
"We are quite well," Elizabeth replied. "We
were sorry to miss you at breakfast this morning. Has everything been completed
to your satisfaction?"
"Indeed."
"You join us at the right moment. We were discussing
the arrival of the Bingleys tomorrow. I was inquiring of Georgiana, who is so
much more intimate with Miss Bingley than I, whether one days rest would be
sufficient for Miss Bingley before we embark on our anticipated excursion to
Cranston's lake, but she could not say. I suspect we may be required an
additional days anticipation, what do you think, my dear?"
"Perhaps an additional days anticipation would be
best."
"So I suspected," Elizabeth replied. "I
shall adjust the menus accordingly."
"I am so looking forward to furthering my acquaintance
with Mrs. Bingley," Georgiana remarked quietly. "Your sister was so
amiable when we were together in London."
"Dear Jane!" Elizabeth sighed. "I am so very
eager for her arrival. I do not believe there is a better soul in all the world
than Jane. She is all goodness. William, Georgiana has graciously offered to
attend carefully to Miss Bingley's needs when they first arrive that I might
have some time with Jane. Is that not thoughtful?"
"Quite propitious, I am sure."
"Why, whatever do you mean?" Elizabeth inquired,
aroused by his satirical tone.
"Why do you persist in disliking Miss Bingley
so?"
"I, dislike her? Hardly."
"Yes, hardly!" he replied sarcastically. Fixing
his eyes upon her, he continued. "Perhaps you do not dislike her, for she
can be quick witted enough, if a bit caustic in the execution of the same.
Perhaps what you dislike is all the excessive attentions she continues to bestow
upon me?"
"Brother!" Georgiana cried. It sounded like such
an outrageous suggestion to her ingenuous ears. Miss Bingley was an
acquaintance of some standing after all, and he appeared to be accusing her, if
not of infamous behavior, certainly of unladylike attentions. Elizabeth,
however, merely looked at Darcy with an arched eyebrow and responded with
amusement.
"Do not be alarmed Georgiana, your brother means to
provoke me. And as for that, Mr. Darcy, if a lady chooses to pay such excessive
attentions to my husband as did Miss Bingley when we last saw her in London I
will hardly feel anything regarding her pains excepting perhaps a little
mortification on her behalf. She can hardly win you now."
"Will you not even allow a moments jealousy if only to
gratify a man's sense of worth?"
"You need no help in that regard, my dear."
Elizabeth laughed. "You think quite highly enough of your worth already.
You need no help from me." Darcy smiled as Elizabeth returned her
attentions to the menus before her.
Georgiana listened to the exchange with something between
curiosity, amusement and shock; she was, even after all these months, not
wholly accustomed to Elizabeth's lively manner with her brother. As she
occasionally chose at such moments, she made excuses to leave the room, in this
case pledging a great desire to recover a sketch she had made that morning; she
wanted her brother's approbation of the same, she said.
As she left the room, Darcy rose from his chair and went to
Elizabeth's side; lifting her hand to his lips he kissed it tenderly. "A
moment alone."
"So it would seem."
"Do I disturb you?"
"Most happily. I am reviewing the revised menus from
cook and I cannot keep my mind on it at all. I would much rather be out of
doors on such a splendid day."
"Were you not out earlier? I saw you walking with
Georgiana."
"Spying, my dear?"
Darcy smiled and did not respond. Instead he urged her to
her feet. A soft breeze came in through the window behind them and a loose curl
brushed onto Elizabeth's forehead. Darcy pushed it away, letting his hand
caress her soft hair, so happily unencumbered by the odious caps married women
were meant to don. Elizabeth leaned her head into his open hand and smiled.
"I have an answer for your question." Darcy remarked.
"Do I have a question outstanding?"
"When did I fall in love with you?"
Elizabeth's eyes reflected her amusement. "I do not
know whether to be gratified that you still recall the question or slighted
that it took you this long to determine the answer."
"That is for you to determine. Would you like to have
the answer?"
"I thought you were in the middle before you knew you
had begun?"
"I had a revelation earlier."
"Well?"
"The morning you came to Netherfield to attend to Jane."
"But we barely saw each other and certainly we
exchanged not a single word."
"You had walked to Netherfield from Longbourn and when
you were shown into the breakfast room your face was flushed and your petticoat
was covered in mud."
Elizabeth furrowed her brow. "I must have looked a
spectacle. Hardly the manner in which a proper young lady would ever present
herself. You cannot be serious? "
"Quite."
"You tease me."
Darcy decided to let her think it so. "Perhaps. After all,
among the many things I have learnt from you, I have possibly also learnt to
tease. In truth, Elizabeth, that morning you looked particularlyÉ" He
paused, his eyes roaming freely across her face, his fingertips softly
following the course of his eyes.
"Particularly?"
"Alluring," he whispered, as he absorbed her into
a tight embrace and kissed her slowly and deeply. Both were surprised by the
powerful affect of Darcy's words, and they kissed with an intensity rarely
indulged outside the privacy of their bedchamber, with a languid, thirsty
forgetfulness, with a heedless delight, a delicious abandon.
"It is not my best work, William, but I think you
shall approve," Georgiana was saying as she returned unsuspectingly.
Entering the room, she stopped abruptly and fell silent. She had, since her
brother's marriage, witnessed frequent attentions on the part of her brother
toward his wife. Some had been all that is proper in the presence of a
sixteen-year-old sister, others, which she had espied unwittingly, were of a
more tender nature clearly not meant for her observation; however, none, as she
could recall, were quite as fervent as this interrupted embrace. Her face was
immediately crimson and if her brother had not turned so quickly toward the
window she may have seen something very much like a blush upon his own visage.
Elizabeth, for her part, who might have been discomfited to be found in such an
impassioned embrace with her husband, found the evident and extreme discomfort
of the siblings amusing; she thought it best to alleviate their unease.
"May I see the sketch, Georgiana?" Elizabeth
reached out her hand and took the sketch block. "Is it not lovely,
William?" She continued, placing her hand on his arm that he might turn
away from the window.
"Lovely." He responded without giving it more
than a passing glance. Long accustomed to seeking his approbation in all that
she did, and long accustomed to his careful and thoughtful perusal of the same,
his cursory attention only served to heighten Georgiana's embarrassment.
"It is not my best effort," Georgiana replied.
"I should not have bothered you with it," she continued, turning to
leave the room.
"You need not leave us Georgiana." Elizabeth said
tenderly.
"Oh no, I understand," she stammered. "But I
wish to practice a piece which Miss Bingley and I had discussed in London. I
would not wish to disappoint her."
"Very well," Elizabeth remarked as Georgiana
scurried away.
With no little annoyance, Darcy dropped himself into the
chair he had earlier occupied. "She could knock before entering. She
certainly has never entered my study without doing so."
"William, no young lady would ever enter a gentleman's
study without first knocking, particularly when the gentleman in question is a severe
elder brother. Nevertheless, you would surely not have us on such formal terms
that she would not feel at ease simply entering my sitting room? I should never
have it such with Jane and will not have it such with Georgiana."
"You really can be maddeningly sensible, my
dear."
Elizabeth walked over to his chair and with a bright smile
she lifted his hand and held it within her own. She observed her husband for a
moment: his strong features, his thick disobedient hair, his broad shoulders
and impeccably tied cravat. Lightly increasing her clasp of his hand she spoke
in a voice rich with warmth and adoration: "If that be the case I shall
sensibly remind you, Mr. Darcy, that you shall have ample opportunity to kiss
your wife before the day is through so such a display of bad temper is quite
unnecessary."
Darcy looked up into Elizabeth's face. It was infused with
a certain softness that came over her lovely features only when she looked at
one truly beloved: Jane, her father, himself. Her eyes became warm, soft and
melting and Darcy was, as of usual, transfixed by the beautiful expressiveness
therein. Suddenly, he pulled his hand from her own and indicated that she
should take a seat across from him. "Perhaps we ought to change the topic
of our discourse or my sister shall once again be witness to another display of
intimacy quite inappropriately witnessed by anyone, much less a
sixteen-year-old girl."
"Yes," she smiled knowingly, "perhaps we
ought."
When Darcy took up the conversation again it was in a tone
of such practiced formality and calculated aloofness that Elizabeth required
some effort to contain her laughter. "Mrs. Darcy, when I happened to see
you walking with Georgiana earlier today she seemed to be very animatedly
discussing something with you. May I inquire what inspired such enthusiastic
discourse or would that violate her confidence?"
"You may know, but you will perhaps be
displeased."
"Pray, explain."
"We were discussing Lady Catherine."
"Lady Catherine!" he replied with more anger then
the disclosure warranted. "I trust Georgiana was not questioning my
judgment in this matter. She may very well be nearly seventeen and I can
clearly no longer treat her as a girl, but I am her guardian and I will not
have her questioning my decisions or my judgment. I would not have you
encouraging the same, Elizabeth. Certainly you can not expect me to allow her
such liberties."
"No I do not have any such expectation nor would I
encourage such behavior. I have long admired the balance you have achieved in
your relations with Georgiana between discipline and indulgence, between
respect and affection. You were such a young man when you became her guardian;
a lesser man would have easily succumbed to simply spoiling her. Georgiana and
I have grown very fond of each other and I am happy that she has begun to
confide in me with ease, and I shall always, privately, give you whatever
council you should desire, based on the understanding this confidence provides,
but I shall never presume to interfere in your role as her guardian, Mr. Darcy.
You have misapprehended the nature of our discourse completely."
Darcy looked discomfited as much by his error as his
temper, and Elizabeth was severely tempted to tease him ruthlesslyÑhis handsome
visage swayed between annoyance and chagrin in the most endearing fashion. She
declined, however, thinking this an opportune moment to address the continuing
question of reconciliation with Lady Catherine.
"We were discussing her visit in London and she
happened to mention a letter had arrived for your aunt from Miss de Bourgh,
which is apparently a great rarity. That led your aunt to share a few
observations with Georgiana regarding Rosings Park and Miss de Bourgh's
unfortunate lack of preparation to one day be its mistress." She paused
for a moment before continuing. He looked not at all desirous of continuing the
conversation. "Is it true that when your father died it was Lady Catherine
that gave you counsel regarding how you might best guide and educate
Georgiana?"
"How would Georgiana know that?" Darcy replied in
evident surprise at the conversation's turn.
"She merely surmised it from some of your aunt's
observations. Mr. Darcy, how, precisely, were your relations with Lady
Catherine before our engagement?"
Darcy began to fidget nervously with the seam of the
chair's upholstered armrest, rising from the chair and pacing the room until he
came to rest in front of the mantel. "You are familiar with Lady
Catherine's propensity for offering unsolicited advice. I would be ungrateful,
however, if I did not acknowledge that when my father died she did give me some
sound advice regarding Georgiana's education. I had recently finished Cambridge
and was residing primarily in Town. As a bachelor, only two and twenty myself, I
hardly knew what to do with a sister who was only ten years of age and now
wholly dependent on me--Colonel Fitzwilliam's role as her guardian has been
more form than practice. Lady Catherine gave me counsel on many matters at the
time and we were for a short time closely aligned. For all her faults she is a
loyal and often astute woman, excepting, lamentably, where Anne is concerned.
However, Lady Catherine soon began to insinuate, with some regularity, the
scheme of my marrying Anne. I lost trust in her intentions. Although I would be
unjust if I did not acknowledge that, whatever her interests, her affections
for me have always been sincere."
"She has clearly been more to you than you have
acknowledged. Why not seek a reconciliation?"
"Must we return to this subject? I find it unspeakably
painful to discuss."
"May I ask one more question?" Taking a deep
breath, he bowed to her will.
"Is it in defense of my honor that you persist in this estrangement
or is it your pride which resents her effrontery for questioning your
choice?"
"That is an offensive characterization
Elizabeth." He returned angrily. "You are my wife and I trust you
would expect me to defend your honor, even against my aunt."
Elizabeth colored at her blunder. "Of course,"
she said at length. "Nevertheless, understand that I do not require this
estrangement to feel my honor defended. My honor is not sullied by words
expressed in heated disappointment."
"Do you defend her?"
"I do not defend her. I am merely suggesting that her
words were, in part, born of disappointed hopes and can therefore perhaps be
judged less implacably."
"Whatever her hopes may have been, that does not
excuse such a gross violation of all civilities. You are my wife, Elizabeth,
would you have me disregard such impropriety toward you, excuse it even?"
"I would not. It does not follow, however, that it
cannot, in this case, be forgiven. She is your mother's sister. It can be
forgiven. It ought to be."
"You astound me and frankly, I am not sure that is a compliment,
my dear." He said this with such cold incredulity that Elizabeth was
recalled to that long ago conversation at Netherfield when he had proclaimed,
what she had termed, implacable resentment. But she, more than any other, knew
his heart could be liberally forgiving.
Elizabeth rose from her seat and joined him at the mantel.
She spoke softly but compellingly. "My love! I know you will always defend
my honor and my happiness. In this case that impulse is misplaced. Lady
Catherine has not the power to dishonor me, nor can she take my happiness from
me. Why should I assume a resentment that will keep Pemberley and Rosings
estranged? The only purpose I could have to encourage a persistence of this
rupture would be so that I might enjoy some sort of ungracious triumph over
Lady Catherine, and I hope I am better principled than that would imply. All I
ask is that you consider reconciliation. I can look beyond her invective; it
only remains whether or not you can as well. I am sure that her harsh words were
aggravated by her disappointment and as the suffering of that disappointment
abates she may become more reasonable."
Darcy began to pace the room again, clearly struggling. He
paused by the open window for a moment before turning back toward Elizabeth and
replying in a labored voice. "If I accept your reasoning then plainly I
must accept some burden for that disappointment, in which case I am in some
manner responsible for her behavior. Is it I then who have placed my own wife
in a situation where she would be thus insulted?"
"I do not understand your construal. You are in no way
responsible for her behavior or her insults."
"Is that true? If I reflect upon my behavior, in light
of the disappointment you reference, it must be with dissatisfaction, because
it follows that in some measure my behavior gave her grounds to insult you, the
expectation that it was her right to abuse you, to abuse us both and to
dishonor our union."
"You misapprehend my meaning. I do not mean to imply
that her disappointment justifies her actions, merely that perhaps it can
arouse some compassion. She certainly had no right to abuse me when I had done
her no willful injury, and she just as certainly had no right to abuse you.
There was no promise to honor."
"Absolutely not! Indeed, there was not even an
understanding to be honored. I did, however, let it be supposed, and that for
some time, that I was not wholly averse to the scheme. It suited my purposes as
it freed me, if not from all, certainly from many unwanted attentions."
"Were you open to the scheme?"
"You who know me so intimately would ask that?"
he replied, his voice and countenance expressing mortificationÑbut whether
mortification that it had been the case or that she would erroneously suppose
it had been the case, Elizabeth could not discern. "I would never wish to
speak ill of my cousin, but Anne is such a pale, sickly, cold creature. How
could you imagine it so?"
Clearly uncomfortable with the topic and, to Elizabeth's
mind, entirely too sensitive, Darcy turned toward the window again and looked
out into the garden. Elizabeth walked across the room and stood behind him; she
wrapped her arms around him, resting her cheek against his back. Darcy grasped
her hands within his own as they came around his waist.
"My love," Elizabeth said tenderly. "Do not
torment yourself in such a manner. I am not disturbed by the revelation that
you may have once considered your cousin as a possible wife. It would have been
considered a sound match for you, so I see no disgrace in your having once held
open the possibility." She asked him to turn and face her. "Now that
we are married the recollection may seem distasteful, but thisÑyou and I--came
upon us very unexpectedly. It is fair to assume that neither you nor I were
wishing for this; we could not wish for what we did not know. Our prior
behavior could not be measured for such an outcome as this. The behavior of no
one, strictly examined, was without fault. Perhaps we ought to let it remain in
the past and you ought to seek a reconciliation. It is not right that you
should remain divided from your mother's sister, nor that Georgiana should
suffer for our quarrel."
Seeing that he was softening to her argument, she
continued. "I always claimed a right to marry only a man I could love. I
would not sacrifice myself for security. Yet, I did not truly understand love
any more than you did, not love like this one that we share. So you see, Lady
Catherine's disapprobation has no affect upon me, William, but this breach in
relations does upon you. It is unnecessary, my love. I do not require it to
understand that you honor and protect me."
Darcy gazed at her face for a moment until he raised his
hand and caressed her cheek. "When you speak to me in such soft, gentle
tones I can refuse you nothing."
"I shall be sure to always remember that," she
replied as she lay her head against his chest and felt his arms wrap tenderly
about her.
In the evening, as Elizabeth and Georgiana sat together in the
music room, Darcy sent word that he required Mrs. Darcy's presence in his
study. When Elizabeth entered Darcy was seated at his desk, staring at a piece
of paper, drumming his fingers. He looked up when he heard the door close
behind her. Handing her the paper, he spoke without ceremony. ÒWould you be so
kind as to read this? If you are satisfied with its contents I will post it
tomorrow.Ó
ÒCertainly,Ó she said, taking a seat across from his desk.
June 18__
Pemberley, Derbyshire
Dear Lady Catherine,
I am writing to you upon the particular request of Mrs.
Darcy who has encouraged me to invite you to wait upon us at Pemberley. You and
I are both of forthright character so I will not disguise that I am reluctant
to extend this invitation, as I remain deeply offended by the letter you sent
on the occasion of my marriage and the sentiments expressed therein. Mrs. Darcy
has prevailed upon me, nonetheless, to seek a reconciliation. She is of the
conviction that Pemberley and Rosings should not remain estranged because of
words expressed in anger and disappointment, however unjustly applied. While I
cannot boast the same lack of resentment as Mrs. Darcy, I must acknowledge her
wisdom and her generosity. You are, as she reminds me, my mother's sister, and if
only in honor of her memory I must be the one to seek a return to our formerly
good relations. My hope is that you will receive this gesture with all the
sincerity and expectation with which it is sent. Let us leave our past
grievances behind us and restore the goodwill that has long subsisted between
our houses.
I will conclude by asserting that should you accept this
application I do expect that you shall behave toward Mrs. Darcy with all of the
respect and honor that is her due, not only as my wife, but in her own right as
a woman of exceptional character. If you will not, we shall, regrettably,
remain as we are.
Both you and my cousin will be welcomed at Pemberley
graciously and warmly at your convenience.
Yours, etc.
Fitzwilliam Darcy
Elizabeth put down the letter and looked across the desk at
her husband. Darcy was watching her with an unreadable expression, his jaw
slightly clenched. ÒMust you make it all my doing?Ó
ÒYes. If you wish a reconciliation it cannot be on false
pretenses. She must be mindful that if she is welcomed at Pemberley it is only
because you have sanctioned it.Ó
ÒI do wish it.Ó
ÒThen I shall post it, but be forewarned that if she comes
she will likely be, if not uncivil, unrepentant.Ó
ÒThen I shall apply that exceptional character you claim
that I possess,Ó she replied dryly.
ÒYou are a remarkable woman, Mrs. Darcy.Ó
"I will not be so foolish as to argue the point with
you," she laughed. "Now, come," she said, gesturing for him to
join her as she made to exit his study. "Will you not sit with Georgiana
and me? We have been practicing a delightful piece. What's more, tomorrow the
Bingleys arrive and we shall not likely have such a quiet evening for many
weeks."
"You see," he replied sullenly. "Just as I
had foreseen. Every day you are lost to me a little more."
"Quite the contrary, my love," she replied,
taking his hand and placing it against her heart. "Every day I am more
yours."
Darcy smiled. "Perhaps, my precious wife, we might retire
early this evening."
With an unashamed blush Elizabeth replied,
"Perhaps."
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