“Then why was he raised at Pemberley?” the colonel asked.
“My mother could not stand the idea that her son would be away from her. Father compromised by having his steward raise Wickham when he saw how much it pleased his new wife. Everything he did for little George’s benefit made Lady Anne happier. After mother died, he kept it up in her memory.”
Elizabeth whispered, “He loved her.”
“Aye, to his dying breath.”
The colonel ran his hands over his face. “Then the rake was your half-brother and my cousin. Good God in heavens, Darce. Why did you never tell me?”
Darcy sighed heavily. “My father insisted that no one be told, that nothing damage the reputation of his wife. He lived in fear that someone would find out. He passed that same fear to me through the pages of the journal, which I have since burned.”
“Did Wickham know?”
“I showed him the journal at Ramsgate, making him promise that if he stayed away from Georgiana, I would keep you away from him.”
The colonel practically slid to the ground. “I am equal parts angry and horrified, Darce. I cannot even…if he had succeeded with the elopement, you would have had to petition for divorce through the archbishop. There would have been no way possible to keep this private.”
“I know.”
His words hung in the air as Elizabeth tried to process all that was said. Miss Darcy almost ran off with Mr. Wickham? She was shocked and equally as horrified as the colonel at the idea of Miss Darcy being attached to a man who unknowingly was her brother. Her poor Fitzwilliam bore the weight of this knowledge alone.
“Will you tell her?” Elizabeth asked.
Darcy’s chin dropped. “Yes, she needs to know now that any danger is over.”
Darcy’s hand again reached for hers. “Will you still have me, Elizabeth? You now know the sort of family we are.”
She was quick to reassure him and herself. “Do you think I would abandon you because of the secrets of your parents? Did you not already prove to me that you would not hold the conductof my parents against me? How could I not do likewise? I will still have you, you dear man.”
His smile was slight, evidence of his continued pain.
“I want him buried at Pemberley, Richard. Please make the arrangements, if you would. I need to go to the inn. There is no longer any room for me at Netherfield Park.”
“Will you stay with my cousin while I get a cart for him and Wickham?” Richard asked.
“I will.”
The colonel had no sooner exited the cave than Elizabeth kissed Darcy with a passion that shook them both.
“I have not yet said the words, Elizabeth.” He kissed her again. “I love you with my whole heart and soul. I cannot begin to fathom a future without you by my side.”
Her heart squeezed from the beauty of his expression.
“I love you as well, my dearest man.” Her tender fingers made their way into his hair at his temples. “We will be happy, Fitzwilliam, I promise.”
“Then kiss me like you mean it, Elizabeth.”
And she did.
EPILOGUE
Darcy married Elizabeth Bennet one week later by common license in a small ceremony at the Meryton chapel. None were as surprised as Mrs. Bennet when she discovered who was engaged to her least favorite daughter. None rejoiced as much as she did. For the first time in Elizabeth’s memory, she was her mother’s favorite.
“Good gracious! Lord bless me! Who would have thought it? And is it really true? Oh, my sweetest Lizzy. How rich and how great you will be. What pin money, what jewels, what carriages you will have! Ten thousand a year, and very likely more. ’Tis as good as a lord! Oh, my dear Lizzy, please apologize to him for my having disliked him so much before. I hope he will overlook it. Dear, dear Lizzy, a house in Town, everything that is charming. I shall be distracted!”
It turned out that being her mother’s favorite daughter did not give Elizabeth the satisfaction she always dreamed it would. Instead, the tender look of love and longing on Fitzwilliam’s face when she joined him at the front of the chapel meant everything to her. She was needed. She, Elizabeth Rose Bennet, was wanted by the best of men more than any other female. She was his favorite.
Her father had the good sense to attend the ceremony, as did most of their neighbors and friends. Glaringly absent were the Bingley family, who hurried off to London the second the storm was finally over. Elizabeth doubted they had any desire to return to Hertfordshire. Unfortunately, from the reports received from Darcy’s man of business, the Hurst’s townhouse was damaged beyond repair, so they had to stay at an inn close to the edge of Town since no one in Darcy’s social sphere offered to help them. Miss Bingley must have been livid at being cast aside.
