Page 91 of To Win Her Affections

“It is no surprise at all, Mr. Darcy,” said Miss Elizabeth. “Kitty has very little inertia of her own. If Lydia is wild, then Kitty is wild. If Lydia begins improving, then Kitty improves. Added to this, I suspect, is that Kitty has noticed your sister’s gentility and has followed her lead.”

“That is useful information, Miss Elizabeth,” said Darcy. “If that is so, the trick will be to find a man that your sister can follow.”

“Without a doubt, Mr. Darcy,” agreed she, laughing. “Kitty is a pleasant girl, but she is no leader. A man she can look up to would suit her admirably.”

Even Lady Catherine’s visit did nothing to dampen the general festive atmosphere at Longbourn, though that may have, in part, been Darcy’s presence when the lady came. After he had sent her back to Kent, her promises to approach the earl ringing in his ears—as if his uncle did not already know everything and refused to support her—he and Miss Elizabeth had occasion to speak on the subject.

“Did you not journey to Kent to make Lady Catherine aware of our engagement?” asked she, mischief shining.

“I did,” replied Darcy. “But you can hardly expect that a lady so forceful as my aunt would accept defeat.”

“Then you expected her to confront me?”

“I had hoped she would not,” confessed Darcy. “I could not discount the possibility.”

Miss Elizabeth chuckled; Darcy had known she was not injured by Lady Catherine’s ridiculous behavior, but he was relieved all the same.

“No, I suppose you could not. Do you suppose she will relent?”

“Not for some time. Then again, we may wish her to keep her offense—once her curiosity overwhelms her, she may well drive us to distraction with her need to meddle.”

“Then let us hope she stays away.”

The season of their engagement elapsed as these things did, and a month before Christmas, Darcy met Miss Elizabeth Bennet at the altar in Longbourn church. Darcy was never able, even in later years, to describe what he felt on that occasion, but the feeling remained with him all the days of his life.

After their wedding, they spent several days at the house in town, before they made their way north to Pemberley. The journey in winter was never pleasant, but Darcy found he could endure it much better; travelling with his new wife pressed up against him under blankets and warmed bricks might have had something to do with his unusual contentment.

“I am eager to see Pemberley in winter,” said Elizabeth as the carriage rolled up the road toward Pemberley, which would appear after only a few more minutes.

“Shall you not deplore it?” asked Darcy, feeling utterly content with the sensation of his beautiful new wife in the circle of his arms. “Knowing how much you love walking, being a prisoner is a form of punishment, is it not?”

“Ah, but the house is so beautiful that I shall have, on the whole, no cause to repent.”

Darcy nuzzled her hair, her bonnet having been discarded some time ago to give him access to her mahogany locks. “If you maintain that stance until spring, it will surprise me very much.”

“By then we will be in London for the season.” Darcy could almost see the expression of vexation, though he could not see her face. “I am quite put out with you, Mr. Darcy. The needs of society will deny me Pemberley in the spring.”

“If you wish it,” replied Darcy, “I am amenable to delaying our arrival. I rarely arrive before March anyway.”

“Perhaps we should consider it,” said she.

As the carriage crested the rise on the hill and the house came into view, Elizabeth sighed with contentment. “That view will enthrall me every time we return.”

“No doubt it shall,” agreed Darcy.

“Then, I suppose I must prepare,” said she.

Reaching for her bonnet, she settled it on her head and tied the ribbons, making herself presentable again. Darcy, who was of the opinion that she looked beautiful regardless of her state, watched and appreciated the view. Within moments, the carriage stopped before Pemberley’s entrance, and Darcy stepped down before turning to assist his wife.

Mrs. Reynolds, who was waiting for them, stepped forward when Elizabeth’s feet touched the ground.

“Welcome home, Mrs. Darcy,” said she, warmly and without fanfare.

Elizabeth smiled, knowing that his housekeeper had suspected much when they had been there in August. “Thank you, Mrs. Reynolds. I cannot tell you how happy I am to be here.”

Delighted, Mrs. Reynolds led them into the house, where Gates, the butler, greeted them. No one else was on hand—the new Mrs. Darcy would meet the rest of the staff later when not fatigued from three days on the road. Eager as a boy of five, Darcy led her up the stairs to the master suite, but before they entered, he turned to her.

“Welcome home, my dear.”