The Beginning, Previous Section, Section III
Posted on Sunday, 19 May 2002
A big thank you to my beta reader, Eugenia, as well, for all her help with ideas and text. I couldn't have done it without her.
Darcy awoke in the morning with a strange feeling that something was terribly wrong. When he heard Elizabeth's weeping, his suspicions were confirmed.
"Mrs. Fitzwilliam! Is everything all right?" he called out, knocking on the door. Elizabeth threw it open and collapsed into his arms.
"He is gone... he is gone..." she whimpered. He called for the nurse, who confirmed Elizabeth's statements. With characteristic strength and efficiency, he had his and Elizabeth's things prepared, a doctor called, and arrangements for removal of Fitzwilliam's body, all in under two hours. Elizabeth could only sit in a trance while the flurry of activity buzzed around her. The cost of the preparations and transport of the coffin were tremendous, but Darcy would not hear of leaving him in France; he insisted that his cousin be taken to England to be buried at Matlock. In the end, they were able to board the ship they had originally planned to take for their return, and were back in England in a fortnight.
During the voyage, Darcy and Elizabeth kept a respectable distance from each other, but did manage to resolve a few business details that had to be taken care of. Most important was the issue of what to do with Halgian. Darcy insisted that Elizabeth could remain at her home, and he would no longer charge her anything; Elizabeth was adamant about vacating it.
"Elizabeth... Mrs. Fitzwilliam, please. I insist that you keep it. Where else will you go?" he begged her in frustration.
"I do still have a home at Longbourn, sir, and at Netherfield as well, I am sure. I cannot stay at Halgian without paying for it, and I have not the means to do so. Therefore, I shall leave it," she replied shakily.
"But why? Why will you not accept it as a gift?"
"Because I will not be your kept woman!" she yelled, at last voicing her true reason for giving up her beloved home. He gaped at her, unable to hold back the anger slowly building inside him.
"My kept woman? Elizabeth, have you not yet realized that I would never expect anything from you, of that nature or of any sort?" He grabbed her roughly by the arms and stared at her with such intensity that she felt he might bore a hole right through her. "I LOVE YOU! Do you know what that means? I do the things I do to assure your happiness, and for no other reason, particularly not for expectation of some reward! For God's sake, have I not proven that to you yet?" he asked with exasperation, releasing her and storming across the cabin. When he turned again to look at her, she had broken down in tears, and he cursed himself for being such a ruffian. "Elizabeth, I'm sorry... I should not have spoken so harshly... please..."
"No Mr. Darcy, it is I who should apologize," she said through her sobs, struggling to regain self-possession. "From the beginning, it seems I have been intent on misunderstanding everything about you. Until this moment I never comprehended the true depth or nature of your emotions. Please forgive me for not giving you the credit you deserve." A whole campful of soldiers could not have prevented Darcy from taking Elizabeth into his arms at that moment, and she gratefully accepted his gesture that spoke of mutual forgiveness. He unconsciously began kissing her hair as she cried, whispering soothing words and murmuring of his love for her.
"Will you stay at Halgian then?" he asked when her tears had stopped flowing. She shook her head solemnly.
"No. I thank you for your gesture, but I cannot. Even if I wished it, the memories are too painful, and I would not be happy living there alone. Please do not ask me to stay there." He sighed and relented.
"Very well. Most of the other business matters must wait until we return to London and read Richard's will. I expect that he has left all of his possessions to you, as there are no children..." His words trailed off as Elizabeth blushed and lowered her head.
"That is not yet certain sir," she replied quietly. Darcy quickly did that math in his head, figuring that it had been at least seven, nearly eight months since she had last lain with Richard, unless...
"Oh, I see." Elizabeth knew that they would not be able to continue their discussion now, and declared herself tired and wishing to sleep. He bowed and left the room without another word, unkindly leaving Elizabeth feeling guilty about having been with her own husband before he died.
The remainder of the voyage passed with little interaction between Darcy and Elizabeth. She thought he was angry with her for having shared Richard's bed; for his part, discovering that she had done so made him recall that she was not truly a free woman, and to be near her now would be to take advantage of her vulnerable state. Neither one was able to correct the other's mistake.
They arrived in London on the 24th of October; Elizabeth thought it best to stay with the Gardiners this time, and Darcy did not argue with her. Darcy handled everything that needed to be done, and by week's end they were at Matlock for Richard's burial. Elizabeth had already done much mourning, but could not hold back the flow of tears when his body was lowered into the ground and the blessings said. She remained at his graveside until her father-in-law gently pulled her away.
It was decided that Elizabeth should stay at Matlock for a few days before returning to Hertfordshire. Darcy, however, decided to return to Pemberley the day after the funeral. Before his departure, he approached Elizabeth alone one last time. He met her in the gardens during her morning walk and fell quietly in step with her. The silence was not broken for a long while.
"Elizabeth," he said at last, anguish over what he had to say evident in his voice, "I am returning to Pemberley today. I am not likely to leave there for some time. It may be many months before we see each other." Elizabeth nodded, but her tears belied the calmness she tried to portray.
"What have I done to earn your censure?" she asked sadly. "Surely you cannot still blame me for having shared one final night with my husband." Her words shocked him. Is that what she really believes?
"I have never blamed you for that. It was your right. Why would you think I censure you?"
"You have been so cold since then... I did not know what else to think."
"I have tried to keep my distance out of respect to you. It would be wrong of me to remain as intimate with you as I had been when you are in mourning and may be carrying Richard's child." She shook her head.
"I am not with child." Relief washed over him upon hearing those words. She does not carry his child... she will never carry another man's child... "I am afraid I may be unable to conceive." He took her hand to comfort her. "I am sorry, I forget myself. Please, continue what you originally intended to speak about," she said quickly, embarrassed to have shared such a personal confession with him.
"As I said, we may not see each other for several months, not because I wish it, but because it is best. You must mourn, and my presence will not help you make peace with Richard's death. But," he hesitated, "I would like to ask permission to call on you when you are ready to see me again." His eyes searched hers for some sign of approval.
"Ask me again in autumn of next year, sir," she replied. "My heart is not yet my own with which to reply to such a suit." Disappointment struck him like an arrow. He had expected to spend five or six months away from her at most, not an entire year. But how could he deny her? It would be dishonorable to go against her request. He bowed to her and kissed her hand.
"Until next autumn then madam. May God bless you." With one final gaze, he walked away. Elizabeth fell to the ground and wept.
Elizabeth's return to Longbourn went far more smoothly than she had anticipated. Her mother seemed to have been struck by the seriousness of her daughter's situation and was much more subdued than usual. All of her personal belongings had been sent ahead of her from Halgian; she had been there one last time to say goodbye to the staff, choose which items would go with her and which would stay to sell with the house, and to relive the happy memories of the short time she and Richard had shared. It had been difficult. She could not even bring herself to spend the night but had begged to return to Matlock immediately afterwards.
Soon after Elizabeth's not-so-joyous homecoming, Jane announced that she was with child, just over three months along. Elizabeth was obviously overjoyed for her sister, but also became depressed about her own condition. She desperately wished that she could have been carrying her husband's child so part of him could live on. Hoping to ease Elizabeth's sorrow, Jane asked her to come live with the Bingleys at Netherfield to help with the pregnancy and, later, the baby. Elizabeth gladly agreed. She had not been there long, however, when one morning Bingley bounded into the breakfast room with a larger-than-usual smile on his face. He happily waved a letter in front of his face.
"Jane! Lizzy! I have wonderful news! I have found an estate in Cheshire! The sellers have accepted my offer, and we may take residence as soon as we wish!" Jane jumped out of her seat as well to kiss her husband. They had both been chafing under Mrs. Bennet's constant attentions and had begun looking for a new location a few months before. The change would be very welcome. Elizabeth, however, looked less than pleased.
"Lizzy, what is wrong?" Jane asked with concern. "Surely you do not blame us. You know how mother can be sometimes." Elizabeth forced a smile.
"No, Jane, I do not blame you at all. I am just not looking forward to going back to Longbourn and not having you to run away to!" Jane looked at her as if she were insane; the thought of leaving Elizabeth to the mercies of Mrs. Bennet had never crossed her mind.
"Oh Lizzy! You must come with us! I am going to need your help, and I cannot bear to leave you here alone! No, you must move with us! Please Lizzy," she pleaded.
"Are you sure I would not be interfering? I don't wish to be a bother."
"Nonsense Lizzy!" Bingley interrupted. "I must insist on it. Not only will your presence be of great comfort to my dear angel," he paused to look adoringly at his wife, "but you will also be able to provide me with diverting company! Really, you must come!" Elizabeth happily agreed.
The New Year saw them in their new home: Myle Park, a gorgeous estate with a house smaller than Netherfield but grounds much larger, nearly four miles around. Plenty of places for solitary walks of penitence, Elizabeth noted. Then it hit her: Cheshire was the county neighboring Derbyshire. They could not be at all far from Pemberley... and Darcy. "Charles," she asked with as much equanimity as she could muster, "how far would you say we are from Pemberley?"
"Why, it can't be more than thirty miles I'm sure! Isn't that grand? We shall be able to see Darcy and little Georgiana far more often now!" Elizabeth forced a smile, but this news did not comfort her. Knowing she was only a few short hours away from the site of her infamy and from him only reminded her of all that she wished to forget.
Over the following months of Jane's confinement, Elizabeth's healing began. She began to come to terms with her loss, but nothing seemed to erase her guilt. She was certain that nothing could; her mind was seared with the vision of Darcy, the wild look in his eyes before he kissed her in his bedchamber. Worse yet, the image still had the power to arouse her, which in turn caused her to be disgusted with her weakness. It was only helping Jane that kept her from retreating completely into her thoughts and going mad.
The birth of little Charles Richard Bingley, healthy and strong, with a mop of curly blond hair like his father, brought new light into three lives: Jane and Charles were obviously thrilled to be new parents, but in the birth of her nephew, Elizabeth also felt a strange fulfillment and comfort, the circle of life coming around again.
Unfortunately for the Bingleys, however, mild misfortune struck in June. An infection of some sort began affecting the cattle, and seemed to be spreading through the county. Concerned and unaccustomed to country concerns like this, Bingley wrote to Darcy asking for his advice and inviting him to come to Myle to personally inspect the problem. Bingley sincerely hoped Darcy would accept; he had thus far declined every invitation, claiming one or another flimsy excuse of estate business, causing Bingley some concern.
Darcy had long been wrestling with the question of whether or not to visit Myle Park. Bingley had betrayed Elizabeth's presence in his first letter, and Darcy was not prepared to break his promise to her. It had been about nine months since Richard's death, and he was aching to see her, but was deathly afraid of it at the same time. He had had much time to reflect on his behavior, and decided that she had every right to despise him. In his view, he had purposely tempted and seduced her during her stay at Pemberley, driven her to betray her husband, and rejoiced in his success. If she slapped him the instant she saw him again, he would not be surprised or insulted; he almost desired it as punishment for his errant ways.
When Bingley's letter arrived explaining the situation with the livestock, he knew he had to go. This infection could possibly affect his own estate and those surrounding him, and his own discomfort with seeing Elizabeth could not take precedence over the welfare of hundreds of people. He replied to Bingley and made arrangements to leave in a week.
Bingley was overjoyed to receive Darcy's acceptance, and read the express aloud at supper that evening.
Dear Bingley,I ought to have replied immediately upon receiving your letter. Though your description of the situation is not very clear - but that is hardly a surprise - what I could understand is enough to alarm me. I have heard and read of similar accounts in this region and I am seriously worried that it may indeed be a contagious infection, in which case all the cattle within miles is at risk. I believe you are right in suggesting that I should personally assess the damage, hence I am accepting your invitation. I shall be arriving at Myle Park on Monday a seven-night hence. Georgiana asks me to convey her regards to Mrs. Bingley and the baby, to which I add mine.
FD
Elizabeth did not know what to make of the information in the letter. One moment she desperately wished to hide, safe from him, far from him; the next she had to resist the impulse to grab the paper from Charles' hands and admire his hand. She did not dare lift her eyes from the plate in front of her, while she moved her food from one side to the other, forgetting to take it to her mouth. The mouth that had kissed him... the mouth that had betrayed her husband. As soon as she could, Elizabeth made some excuse and retired. In the solitude of her bedchamber she allowed the tears to fall.
The months of solitude provided by her widowhood had been an opportunity to mediate upon her past actions. Her reflections were not pleasant ones. Shame and guilt were constant companions, and the tumult of Elizabeth's mind was not allayed by the information that she would have to face the other human being who knew her true nature. She had not mentioned the secrets that so heavily weighed on her conscience to anyone. Prudence forbade it. She could not burden Jane, her father, nor anyone else for that matter, with the evidence of how unworthy she truly was. No, that was a load she had to carry by herself.
To these feelings of guilt others, even more shameful ones, were added. Elizabeth no longer dared deny that she was subject to her own desire. She saw herself as an unchaste, lewd woman, a slave to her feelings... feelings that she had long before realized were dominated by love for the man she would have to face so soon. To the rest of the world she appeared to be a lady; to the rest of the world she was supposed to have been a good, faithful, loyal wife. She had played that part well to the rest of the world, but Darcy knew her better: she was no lady, she was a whore. He could not, he would not, love her... How could he? He, the epitome of kindness, of goodness, of honor, why would he love her? She was merely a daughter of Eve... wanton woman, wench... and he knew it.
Her scandalous behavior prior to Richard's death was insurmountable, in her opinion. All love was lost for her: Richard's love had been lost with his life; Darcy's love was impossible. Still, in her heart she kept them both, and that, the world told her, was wrong, it was not love. By having too much love, she was divided by guilt, and being left alone, loveless, was the certain result of that equation. Everybody knows that such things are precise, certain, predictable. The world was right: to love and desire a man other than her husband was wrong and reprehensible. She would be punished for her actions. How could it be any different? Don't we always get what we deserve?
She promised herself that she would behave well and under no circumstance have any sort of private conversation with Mr. Darcy. The admission of her weakness would be her strength, she was told herself. She would have read Fordyce's Sermon's if she could have gotten her hands on one. She was still crying when she fell asleep.
Darcy approached Myle Park with not a little apprehension. Elizabeth was there; it would be impossible not to see her. Still, he was resolved to do his best to respect her wishes and stay away. Without being uncivil, he would avoid her, particularly when she was alone. This visit would be short, he decided, so it would not be too difficult. Then perhaps he would return in a few months to see if there was any chance that they could at least be friends. Yes, that was all he could hope for now, and he would not blame her if she did not even trust him that far. But God, how he missed her!
"I think I hear the carriage!" Bingley cried, jumping from his chair and running out of the dining room. Elizabeth ran out too, but in the opposite direction, escaping to the gardens to keep from seeing Darcy just yet. With any luck she could avoid him until supper.
Perhaps aided by his own desire to be near Elizabeth, Darcy arrived much sooner than he had predicted, and found the residents of Myle Park still engaged in their morning activities. Charles welcomed him as profusely and sincerely as only he could. The others were not to be seen. Darcy apologized for his lack of punctuality. Determined to ease the disturbance that his arrival prior to the preparations for his stay were complete, he informed Charles that he would just change out of his travel clothes and then go for a walk to allow the servants to finish preparing his room. Now that the moment drew closer, fear of his encounter with Elizabeth made him wish to search for some composure outdoors.
He refused Charles' offer to accompany him and took the directions to a little isolated grove he had seen from the road. Half an hour later he realized his mistake; he had trusted Charles was able to give accurate directions to his own property. Had he been concentrating on trying to find his way to the grove instead of trying to find the right words with which to greet Elizabeth it may not have happened, but as it was, Fitzwilliam Darcy was lost in the woods. He retraced his steps, at last finding a path that led to more open space and followed it.
Elizabeth, meanwhile, had been wandering around for nearly an hour, her mind occupied with thoughts that could only distress her. So complete was her distraction that she did not see the man himself until they literally collided.
Darcy did not know how it happened. He simply felt the impact and reacted instinctively to it... and Elizabeth was in his embrace. At first his arms enveloped her to protect her from falling; then, they remained there, around her, because there was no other place his arms would rather be. She did not pull away immediately, reveling in the safety and comfort of his strength, his smell... but the magic could not last long, and she extracted herself from his hold.
"Mr. Darcy!" she exclaimed, her eyes lowered.
"Mrs. Fitzwilliam!" He had been shocked to find that the path he had followed led to the very object of his reverie; he almost thought she must have materialized out of thin air into his arms. "Are you all right? I am so sorry for running into you, I was distracted."
"I'm all right, thank you sir. I did not expect to see you. I..."
"...thought you could avoid me by coming out for a walk?" Elizabeth gave a rueful chuckle.
"Yes indeed sir."
"I confess to the same idea. Unfortunately we each seem to have forgotten the other's fondness for solitary strolls. I believe this is the third time we have met this way, is it not?" he said with a nervous smile, endeavoring not to sound as unsettled as he felt.
"I think you must be right. Perhaps Fate is trying to tell us something," Elizabeth replied lightheartedly, but blushed when she realized how her statement must sound. Sensing her discomfort, he quickly changed the subject.
"Mrs. Fitzwilliam, I would like you to know that I am only here because this business with the livestock could affect many people, including myself, and I must assess the damage. Until now I have declined all of Bingley's invitations, but this visit was unavoidable. I will try to make it as short as possible." Elizabeth turned away, her suspicions confirmed; he despised her and wished to avoid her. "I hope you will forgive me for disrespecting your wishes of not seeing you until the autumn." She looked up at him in bewilderment. My wishes? He still respects my wishes?
"Oh... yes, of course. I perfectly understand sir. There is no need to apologize." Relieved, he took her hand and kissed it.
"Again I must thank you for your generous forgiveness of my trespasses Mrs. Fitzwilliam." My forgiveness of him? Her eyes met his, their faces only inches apart. She felt the familiar tingling of desire when she felt his breath on her face, and again she felt ill with the shame it caused her.
"Please excuse me," she whispered in a strangled voice, and ran back to the house, leaving Darcy to curse himself for having pushed too far. How could I have insinuated myself on her so soon? Dammit Darcy, you really are a beast. You don't deserve her forgiveness.
Have you no shame? Elizabeth rebuked herself as she wept. He was being kind and gentle, and again all you could think of was kissing him! You truly are an intemperate wench... he could never want you...
Darcy was true to his word and kept his visit as short as possible, only a few days. The business with the animals kept him out in the fields for most of each day, and he was so fatigued in the evenings that he retired soon after supper. He and Elizabeth did not speak alone until the day of his departure. He had been afraid to speak to her again, knowing how she must distrust his ability to maintain his composure around her, but before he left, he had to know if she would be willing to see him ever again. He walked the grove for some time in the hope of meeting her, and was finally rewarded for his patience when she came round the bend.
"Mrs. Fitzwilliam!" he called out. "Please, I must speak with you."
"Yes Mr. Darcy?" Now he will tell me that he never wants to see me again.
"I have two things to request of you madam, though I am not worthy to receive either one. First I must ask for your forgiveness once more: when we met in the garden the other day I made you uncomfortable, and I deeply apologize." She closed her eyes and began to laugh. Once again they had misinterpreted each other; when would they learn to communicate their feelings before jumping to conclusions?
"Mr. Darcy, I have spent every moment since then scolding myself for my conduct that day. You did nothing wrong and need no exoneration."
"I do not follow you. You were beyond reproach." She shook her head.
"I will not argue with you sir, but believe me, I was not. Now, what is your other request?"
"I... I would like your permission to call on you in the autumn."
"Of course sir. You may visit me whenever you wish." He began pacing, every few steps looking at her with agitation.
"I do not wish to visit you. That is, I wish to visit you, but not just to visit you. I wish to call on you. As a gentleman. I mean, I am already a gentleman, but as a gentleman caller... who calls on a lady." She vainly attempted to hide her grin behind her fan.
"You may call on me in whatever manner you wish sir. But I do agree that it is preferable if you are the gentleman and I am the lady, rather than the reverse." He laughed, relieving some of his tension.
"I really am a bumbling fool. What I am trying to say, very inarticulately, is that I wish to call on you, not as family or as a friend, but as a suitor. But I want to know if I will be welcome if I come as such." His eyes were frantic with uncertainty; hers were wide with surprise. He still loves me? After all that has happened, he wants to court me? It cannot be, there must be something else to this.
"Mr. Darcy, I hope you do not feel obligated to do this because of what happened between us at Pemberley. I assure you, it is unnecessary."
"You mean the library and... whatnot?" She nodded. "No, not at all! I mean, yes, but no. ARGH! Elizabeth, I love you, I want to court you, and I want to marry you. These have been my wishes since we met at Rosings, and they have not wavered since that day. I understand if you abhor me for my consistently abominable behavior and will not have me, but in that case I need to know to give up hope. One word from you will silence me on this subject forever." Elizabeth swallowed hard, struggling to keep her poise in the face of such a declaration.
Desperately hoping that she appeared calm, she replied, "I shall look forward to your return in October sir." Her words took several long moments to sink in, but when his tortured mind finally made sense of them, it was as if he had been reborn. She had granted her permission, even given him a date. It was enough to keep him going for the next three months. With a smile that could rival Bingley's best, he kissed her hand and took his leave.
It was obvious to Jane that Elizabeth's spirits were much improved after Darcy's visit. She had noticed her sister's discomfort prior to the man's arrival and suspected that their relationship was perhaps more complicated than that of just cousins, but did not dare to say anything. Now it seemed that whatever misunderstanding they may have had was corrected, and a great weight had been lifted from Elizabeth's shoulders.
Jane was quite correct. Darcy's acceptance of her and the confirmation of his love had eased Elizabeth's troubled mind. He found her still to be worthy of his love. He had even blamed himself for her indiscretions! Her heart swelled with love for him, and she knew that it would not be possible to live without him. Now, for the first time, thoughts of seeing Darcy again brought her peace.
September 30th...
"Uncle Edward, there is something I must discuss with you." Lord Fitzwilliam looked at his nephew confusedly. He had never seen Darcy so disconcerted.
"Certainly William. Please go on." Darcy looked at his uncle grimly; he was not looking forward to this.
"Uncle Edward, tomorrow I am going to visit your daughter-in-law with the purpose of making her henceforth your niece." Damn... that sounded much more clever in my head. This was indeed unexpected; he had not so much asked permission, but declared his intention to marry Elizabeth, in typical Darcy fashion. The information made Lord Fitzwilliam uncomfortable, but it did not seem there was much he could to interfere.
"And what have I do with that? It seems like you should speak to the lady about it."
"I shall. But I wanted to inform you of my intent, as she was married to your son."
"And your cousin," his uncle reminded quietly. Darcy narrowed his eyes.
"Believe me, I know he was my cousin. I have lived with the guilt of loving my cousin's fiancée, then my cousin's wife, and now my cousin's widow. But I loved her before she was any of those things, and I will be damned if I do not seize my only opportunity for happiness. I am sorry if you do not approve, but at this point the world's opinion means nothing to me." Lord Fitzwilliam rose and shook his nephew's hand.
"Very well Darcy. Just promise me that you will treat her well; she is very dear to me, and has already suffered much for one so young."
"I know sir," much of it at my brutish hands, "I shall dedicate my life to her happiness." The gentlemen embraced and Darcy returned to Pemberley to prepare for the most important journey of his life.
"Really Lizzy, pacing back and forth will not make his horses go any faster," Jane teased. She achieved her desired effect: Elizabeth blushed and sat down.
"I am sorry Jane. I'm just concerned about this weather. Poor Mr. Darcy may be caught in the rain." Jane smiled knowingly and shook her head.
"Lizzy dear, how long do you plan to continue this charade?"
"Whatever do you mean Jane?" Oh no, have I been so obvious?
"My dear sister, you need not be ashamed of liking Mr. Darcy. He is a very good man, and has been a good friend to you. Now perhaps he shall be something more?" Elizabeth took her sister's hand and looked at her earnestly.
"Jane, I have been in love with Mr. Darcy for some time now. When he was last here, he said that his next visit would be as a suitor for my hand. I believe he will propose to me while he is here."
"Well, that is a bit more than I was expecting. Will you accept him?"
"I dearly wish to... do you think it would be wrong so soon after Richard's death?" Jane patted her sister's hand in comforting.
"No Lizzy, you deserve to be happy again, and if you love him you should marry him. But society may frown on such a hasty courtship," she warned.
"I know... but there are only three opinions that matter to me: Papa's, yours, and his. Society may think what it will." Jane hugged her sister tightly.
"Then I wish you well my dear. Listen, I think I hear the carriage." Elizabeth smiled and ran to the door.
Darcy stepped out of the carriage with a light heart, patting his jacket pocket where his mother's ring was resting in its box. He hoped he would see Elizabeth soon. Perhaps I should go for a walk... that always seems a good way to meet her, he thought mischievously.
"Mr. Darcy!" He looked up at the door of the house and there she was, looking radiant and, most importantly, happy to see him. He threw down his cane and hat and ran to her, not stopping until she was in his arms.
"Elizabeth," he murmured into her hair. "Marry me." The words just came out; he had not intended to propose here, this way. He had written and practiced a seven-minute speech extolling her virtues and beauty, giving her a history of his love for her, and finally ending with the two words he had just spoken. As he held her, though, somehow this seemed much more appropriate. Undaunted by the abruptness of his application, Elizabeth pulled away slightly to look him in the eye.
"Yes," she replied, simply and directly. It was the most beautiful word that had ever graced his ear. With a smile of pure joy, he leaned in and kissed his future wife.
Georgiana was overjoyed that her friend had become her sister, and welcomed the new mistress with open arms. Elizabeth's worst fear, the rejection of her former mother and father-in-law, was allayed when they were the first to call on the new couple at Pemberley with their best wishes.
The day she was told by the doctor that she was with child, Elizabeth asked Darcy to take her the short distance to Matlock and leave her alone at Richard's grave. It was the first time she had been able to go since the funeral, and the emotions it evoked overwhelmed her.
"My dear Richard," she whispered, caressing his headstone as she spoke, "I hope you have forgiven me for betraying you, and for neglecting you all this time... I have never stopped loving you, and I never shall." Her tears fell freely as she poured her heart out, explaining all that had occurred from the day he left for Portugal. "And now I am with child Richard. I am sorry I was not able to give you such a gift, but I hope you will love and watch over your niece or nephew as much as your own. Please bless and protect this child as I know you bless and protect me." She tenderly kissed the stone marker and stood. "I love you." Finally at peace, Elizabeth rejoined her husband to return to Pemberley.
Exactly two years after the death of his namesake, Richard Fitzwilliam Darcy was born.