He was in the midst of sipping his wine, and almost spat it out in shock at the question. “You cannot possibly think I would say no! There was never a second of doubt that I would try to win your heart, once I knew it was free.”
Chuckling, she reached across the small, round table and dabbed at his chin with her napkin. A drop or two of wine must have fallen on it.
“As I believe I told you then, my heart wasnotfree. It was full ofyoualmost since the moment we first met.”
“Are you happy, my love?” It seemed like a nonsensical question, but he longed to hear her say that she was. A gentle smile curled his lips as he awaited her answer.
“More than I knew possible. It will sound ridiculous, but I feel like I was born to be your wife, to live this life, here with you.” Her voice was little above a whisper.
This time, he was the one who laughed. He laced his fingers with hers. “When we were in town and I saw you with my family, I told myself that it seemed as though an empty spot had been there all along, waiting for you to slip into it. Youwerealways meant to be my wife, and I was always meant to be your husband.”
Elizabeth stood and went to his side of the table. Sitting on his lap, she wrapped her arms about his neck and kissed him. They remained there, their passion building, until he fully gave into desire, and carried her to their bed.
EPILOGUE
London, May 1814
Darcy was in the sitting room he and Elizabeth kept as their own. When the door opened, he watched as she noticed him on the sofa and walked towards him. He held out a hand, which she took once she was within reach, and sat beside him, tucking her legs to the side, and resting her head on his shoulder.
“Is Thomas settled?” he asked, naming their six-month-old son.
“He is asleep and safely in the care of his nurse for the night.”
“Good.” Darcy kissed the top of her head, which was covered by a light cap.
“Georgiana?”
“She has retired.”
He felt her head move as though she nodded. They were quiet for a moment before Elizabeth yawned.
“What a long, long day! Why did we delay our departure until such a late hour?” she asked.
“It was still reasonably early when we left Longbourn. If it had not been for the accident, we would have reached town in good time.”
They had stopped to offer assistance when they saw a carriage that had fallen over, its roof resting in the ditch at the side of the road. Fortunately, no one had been injured apart from one groom who had sprained his wrist and another who had hit his head and was consequently feeling unsteady. The Darcys had remained with the family, which consisted of parents and a handful of small children by the name of Livingstone. One of their servants had already gone to seek assistance in the nearest village. While the Darcys could have continued on their way, Mr and Mrs Livingstone were understandably agitated, thinking about what might have happened, and the children were overly excited by the unexpected occurrence. Elizabeth, Georgiana, and Darcy had helped to occupy the children and calm the parents.
Elizabeth made a noise of agreement, her voice slow with fatigue. “Mama was so glad to see us, it seemed cruel to rush off at first light, even though we intend to stay there three weeks in July, and her chief interest was actually Mr Dawson.”
Mr Dawson was Jane’s betrothed. He had travelled from Derbyshire with them to meet Mr and Mrs Bennet and seek their blessing for the union. The previous autumn, Mr Dawson had inherited a modest estate some twelve miles from Pemberley. Darcy had met him at a club meeting in Lambton, liked him, and introduced him to Elizabeth, Jane, and Georgiana. Having immediately recognised Jane’s quality, Dawson set about winning her affection, and had lately proposed. The couple would remain in Hertfordshire for a week before joining the Darcys in town, bringing Mary with them.
This would be Georgiana’s first Season, and Mary would help to keep her company. His sister-in-law had been in town with them the previous year, and to her surprise—and Elizabeth and Darcy’s—had found it a great deal more amusing than she did being in society in Meryton. Elizabeth speculated that Mary’s fashionable clothes, new coiffure, and greater maturity had made a significant difference to her views. Mary had received her fair share of gentlemanly attention and rejected an offer of marriage. Her suitor was a good man, but she did not love him, and when Mary had consulted Darcy, he had assured her she did not need to accept just anyone. She would always have a welcoming home with Elizabeth and him.
“While you were with Thomas, I had a quick look through the letters that have lately arrived. There was a note from Bramwell. They decided to return to Worcestershire before Rebecca grew any larger. I am sorry they will not be in town, but she is already feeling uncomfortable, and they decided it was best.” The couple was expecting their second child that summer.
“Oh, I am sorry to hear that. I was looking forward to seeing them, but I suppose we shall, if we return to Pemberley via Romsley Hall, as we spoke of doing.”
“He also had news of former acquaintances of ours, should you like to hear it.” Darcy kissed her head once again.
“You do not mean—?” Elizabeth sat up enough to meet his eye.
He nodded. “It appears the Hursts are living apart, which is hardly a shock. Mrs Hurst has gone to stay with Miss Bingley in Yorkshire.Sheremains unattached. Bingley has met with some success, although perhaps that is not the correct word. He is lately married to a lady he met in Weymouth. My cousin has heard there was something scandalous about the affair, though it was hushed up. Bramwell believes the lady has money, but neither he nor Rebecca have heard of her, so she cannot have any significant connexions. I cannot imagine why Bingley was in Weymouth, or what happened to bring about the marriage. Truly, I do not know, and I do not care.”
Elizabeth shrugged and settled against him again. “Well, I suppose all we can do is hope he will be a good husband, regardless of his motives in choosing her.”
Darcy was indifferent about the matter. Two years ago, Bramwell had shared the truth about the Bingleys with their acquaintance. It had lost them many friends, but whoever Mrs Bingley had been, she either knew and was not disturbed by it or had no knowledge of his dishonourable past.
“Will you tell Jane?” he asked.
