Darcy grasped his cousin’s hand. “Fair enough.”
Chapter 38
Wyoming
May 1900
“Bythepowervestedin me, I now pronounce thee man and wife.” Collins looked up from his Bible, grinning stupidly, and just stared at them.
“Well?” Richard asked.
“Oh! Forgive me,” he stammered. “You may now kiss the bride. I beg your pardon, it was my first marriage ceremony!” He laughed, gesturing toward the new couple, and nodding at Mr and Mrs Gardiner, but no one joined his mirth.
Richard’s gaze flitted about the assembled persons—Elizabeth’s family, all gathered round with sober expressions and eyes trained steadily upon him; a motley collection of curious onlookers, none of whom were now taunting anyone; and Elizabeth…Fitzwilliam.His lawful wife.
Her lashes twitched upon her cheeks, then lifted. Her knuckles were white in his hands, her cheeks pale, but she was looking expectantly at him.
Kissing her was a pleasure, he had to confess. In fact, for a fleeting instant, he wished that he had the luxury of staying for his wedding night.
She jumped when the train whistle blasted in their ears, jerking him back to reality. The horses were on board, his suitcase at his side, and his orders tucked in his breast pocket. He shook Mr Bennet’s hand, then Mr Gardiner’s, kissed a few of his new female relations on the cheek—he could not recall whether Lydia presented herself two or three times—and then returned to Elizabeth.
“I will write as soon as I reach New York,” he promised. “From there, I can make whatever arrangements necessary for your comfort… my dear.”
She looked him full in the face then and rested her warm fingers on his cheek before raising upon her toes to kiss him softly. “Be careful, Richard.”
He squeezed her hand once more. “I will.”
And then it was the train for him, and waving out the window as her figure blurred then disappeared.
He sank down, staring blankly at the seat in front of him. “What have I done?” he murmured to himself. “Oh, Darcy, you will not believe it when I tell you! Perhaps I should not, for I can hear you lecturing me even now. What the devil have I done?”
Then he snorted. “Done… why, I have done nothing but give that girl a second chance. At least, I hope it is so for her. Damned fine girl—would make any man a first-rate wife. I wonder if I shall ever see her again?”
As the train steamed eastward, Colonel Richard Andrew George Fitzwilliam of Her Majesty’s army sat alone. His chin sank ever lower on his chest in quiet contemplation until, at last, his head rolled back on the cushions and he dreamt the dreams of a man on his way to war.
Matlock
January 1901
“Istillcannotbelieveit.” Georgiana Darcy dropped into a chair beside Elizabeth in the sitting room. “All this time, you and my brother were… what exactly were you?”
“Nothing. We were nothing—just friends,” Elizabeth insisted.
Georgiana scoffed. “You were never ‘just’ anything. I may have been blind, but not ignorant. He was always peculiar around you, but I admit I never thoughtthatwas the cause.”
“Things were different. It would have been wrong, impossible… of course, he would not permit such a sentiment to show, even to himself.”
“Well, he certainly wasted no time changing his mind. Or, rather, he hastened to do what he really wanted all along, as soon as he got the chance. Do you know, somehow I was less surprised about Anne and your cousin than I was about you and William.”
Elizabeth smiled hesitantly. “Because I am not a worthy partner for such a grand person as Fitzwilliam Darcy of Pemberley?”
“Well, your hostessing needs some work, and I shall not even mention your entertainment skills.”
Elizabeth chuckled. “Anything else?”
Georgiana shook her head woefully. “The accent. It is a lucky thing William will deck you in diamonds and pearls, else everyone will think you are the dust maid.”
“I will take that under advisement. Do you see?” She trilled her best falsetto and lifted her nose to the air. “I shall endeavour to become so sophisticated, others will rub against me in hopes that it is catching.”
