He swung around to face his wife.
“My dear Jane, can you forgive me for not greeting you first? How inconsiderate I am! It is just that?—”
“I understand,” Mrs Bingley said, sounding and looking serene, as she usually did.
In her place, his Elizabeth would have made a joke at his expense. Darcy knew which approach he preferred. He met Elizabeth’s eye, and they exchanged a smile that said more than words would have.
“And everything is as it should be?” Bingley looked between Elizabeth and him. “Everyone is…pleased?”
Elizabeth laughed, stood, and went to embrace her brother-in-law. “Yes, everything is exactly as it was always meant to be.” Meeting Darcy’s eye and then her sister’s, she added, “For the remainder of today, I would like to simply enjoy the four of us being together. I cannot tell you how often I have imagined this—three of the people I care most for in the world and I doing nothing more than talking and being happy.”
She reserved her largest smile for him, and for perhaps the twelfth time that day, Darcy was close to crying in relief and joy. She would be his wife, the Bingleys his brother and sister, their children would grow up together, Georgianawouldbe well, and all was right with his world.
Elizabeth did not sleep much that night. Her life had taken a drastic turn, one she genuinely had not foreseen happening, and, once again, she had to redraw what her future would be. For the first time in almost a year, she was overjoyed with the prospect. She was at liberty to love her Mr Darcy and anticipate their life together.
There were no more obstacles in their path. Or just about none. She could not forget his sister’s fragility, and as much as she wanted to marry him as soon as it could be arranged, she needed to ensure nothing they did would pose a threat to Miss Darcy’s well-being.
Her joy was compounded by Jane and Bingley’s satisfaction with the situation. Elizabeth had found a private moment to speak to Jane and had a longer conversation with Bingley after dinner.
“I suppose you know I encouraged Darcy to come and see you. Did I do right?” Bingley had said.
“Yes, my darling brother, you most certainly did. Have you forgiven him for not telling you about our attachment and Miss Darcy’s struggles?”
“Goodness, yes.” Bingley had laughed. “I could hardly not be friends with him when you are going to marry him. I have an inkling you and Darcy belong together thesame way Jane and I do. I may not have known you and Darcy loved each other until last month, but now I do, and when you told us of Miss Darcy’s letter, it made me wonder whether perhaps the two people I most admire, apart from Jane, could find happiness together. Darcy deserves it, and you deserve a man who will love you as much as he does.”
“I shall endeavour to be worthy of him, but I know that—as much effort as I put into it—I shall never deserve such a wonderful brother,” Elizabeth had said, accompanying her statement with a hug.
Throughout the night, Elizabeth debated with herself what the following weeks and months should be like. Her situation with Mr Darcy was not easy, but she did not want to add more complications to it than were necessary. She supposed she felt a little bruised after everything that had happened, but her chief concern was Miss Darcy.
I want to know that she will not change her mind, ending with me facing the anxious countenances of her family, all of whom want me to disappear as a consequence.
That might be unfair to Miss Darcy, but everything she knew and had witnessed of her struggles left Elizabeth feeling unusually cautious. At the same time, she wanted to be Mrs Darcy and have the right to call Mr Darcy her husband, to enter Pemberley as his wife, and to—at long last—begin their lives together.
Before much longer, she devised a scheme she would suggest to him in the morning. Then, she spent the rest of the night dreaming of him, both when she was awake and when she finally drifted off to sleep.
As he had crawled into bed, Darcy had been certain sleep would be impossible. Yet, he slept very well and had sweet dreams of his future with Elizabeth all night. He supposed he had been over-exhausted after having spent the previous two days worrying about what he would say to her and having serious conversations with his family, especially Georgiana and Fitzwilliam. His sister had been even more resolved the day after their initial discussion.
“I have hoped for weeks that you and Miss Bennet might reconcile. Even when she was at Pemberley, I hated the thought that she might marry Mr Grey, because she was meant to marry you,” she had said. “If there is anything I can do to assure her I would be glad to have her as my sister, I shall.”
He and Fitzwilliam had spoken for above an hour, and he was more hopeful than ever that they would be friends again and find a way to overcome the disagreements of the past year.
Darcy was out of bed and sitting in a conspicuous spot early the following morning. The housekeeper had been kind enough to bring him tea, toast, and some fruit in the drawing room. He wanted to be where Elizabeth could easily find him.
Sure enough, she came down shortly after seven o’clock. The smile she gave him was almost enough to make him forget his gentlemanly manners. Instantly, the world was brighter. He leapt out of his chair, closed the distance between them, and drew both of her hands to his mouth to kiss. If he were not worried about being seen and creating gossip, he would have kissed her properly.
Her eyes danced with merriment. “Good morning,” she said, still smiling.
“Good morning, my love. Did you sleep well?”
She did her best to suppress a yawn, then laughed. “I did not. I was too happy for sleep. But if you say you did sleepwell, I promise I shall not take it as a sign that your sentiments are less fervent than mine.”
She quickly finished the cup of tea he prepared for her and ate half a piece of toast then said, “Shall we go for a walk? It looks like the weather will be fine today.”
It had been far too long since Darcy had the pleasure of a gentle stroll with Elizabeth, her arm wrapped around his—apart from the day before, when in truth he had been too disbelieving that she had forgiven him to fully appreciate it. He had struggled to accept he was not trapped in a fantasy while also drinking in each moment of the first truly joyful day he had experienced in longer than he could recall. This morning, he would have relished their walk if they talked of nothing other than the clear cerulean sky or the birds and other small animals they saw as they wandered aimlessly. But she had more to say than that, and he was not at all displeased by it.
After they had been walking for perhaps ten minutes, she said, “Since you are here and Bingley, Jane, and I are leaving Netherfield soon, you should speak to my father. I do not need his permission, being of age, but still, you should request it, and his blessing, of him. He might be surprised, but he will not say no.”
She stopped walking, caressed his cheek, and gently kissed him. They broke apart just as it was on the cusp of becoming too passionate.
