Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy: The Last Man in the World (27 page)

What
had happened to Sylvia? Perhaps she had not understood what Elizabeth wished
her to do. She would have to find a way to extract herself from this
unfortunate circumstance without Darcy. The challenge lay in how to keep
Wickham from embarrassing Darcy with the things he might say to the people of
Pemberley, who would not know to disbelieve him.

Wickham
took a step closer and spoke in a confidential tone. "I do not wish to put
you in a difficult position, my dear sister. But you and I have always
understood one another, as I understood your reasons for marrying a man you
despised. We all must do what is necessary."

It
was one impudence too many, and Elizabeth lost all civility in anger.

"Perhaps
there was a time when I thought him the last man in the world I could be
prevailed upon to marry, but that was only when I first knew him, for it is
many months since I have considered him the best man of my acquaintance. I am
astonished to think you might still expect me to share your beliefs now that I
have had time to discover the man he truly is, and the falseness of your
accusations." She forced herself to silence before her loss of control led
her to name her brother-in-law a liar and cheat to his face.

To
one side she saw Mrs. Smithson hurrying out of her cottage, her baby on her
hip. She grabbed Mr. Wickham's arm and said, "I'll not have you upsetting
Mrs. Darcy, George Wickham! I'll not have it! She is the kindest and most
generous of ladies. I was willing to take you in for a few days for your
mother's sake, but I see you've not changed. Be off with you!"

She
turned to Elizabeth and dropped a curtsey. "Begging your pardon,
madam."

"I
see my presence in your defence is quite unnecessary." Darcy's deep voice
came from behind Elizabeth.

Startled,
she looked over her shoulder at him, expecting to see an expression of distaste
or at least dismay, but instead he looked ... she did not know quite how to
describe it, for he wore his serious look, but underneath it she could see
traces of amusement. Certainly he seemed oddly unperturbed by finding her with
Wickham.

"Mr.
Wickham was just leaving, were you not?" Elizabeth said firmly.

"But
Lizzy ... " Lydia's pouting expression reminded Elizabeth of the many
times she had wheedled concessions from their mother.

Lydia
had risked the future of all their sisters with her thoughtless behaviour, not
to mention harm to Elizabeth's new family. A year ago Elizabeth might have been
inclined to continue to treat her as a sister no matter how distasteful her
actions, but she was mistress of Pemberley now, with a responsibility to the
people of Pemberley and, more importantly, to her husband. She stole a glance
at him, then said, "Lydia, if you wish to write to me when you reach your
new home, I will be glad to read it. But your husband is not welcome here, now
or ever."

How
easy it had been for Wickham to turn her against Darcy when she first knew him!
Elizabeth wondered how often the same thing had happened over the years with
other acquaintances. No wonder her husband might feel as if no one liked him,
if Wickham was behind him at every step so many of those years! Or that it had
been so easy for him to believe she would never care for him. Suddenly
Wickham's gallantries sickened her.

Mr.
Wickham made a courtly bow. "I understand completely, Mrs.

Darcy,"
he said smoothly, with a bit of a smirk toward Darcy. "I take no offence,
since I know your character and the necessities you face."

The
utter effrontery of the man! And how it must hurt her husband, knowing she had
believed Wickham in the past. Just as she had thought the shadows were starting
to disappear from his eyes, too. She took a step forward and spoke quietly, so
no one would overhear, but made no effort to disguise her anger. "Say one
more word against my husband, Mr.

Wickham,
and I will personally see you horsewhipped."

Finally
she had undercut his presumption; she could see it in his sudden pallor and the
way his eyes darted about, as if he knew not how to look.

She
walked back to Darcy's side and took his arm. "I hope your journey is a
pleasant one," she said.

Darcy
made a slight bow to them. "Mr. Wickham, Mrs. Wickham."

Placing
his hand over Elizabeth's, he turned and led her down the lane toward Pemberley
House. When they were some distance away, in the shadow of the Pemberley
chapel, he looked down at her and raised an eyebrow. "Horsewhipped?
Really?"

Elizabeth's
cheeks grew hot. "I did not mean you to hear that. But you must admit he
richly deserves it."

"His
expression when you said it, and when Mrs. Smithson defended you to him, was
all the revenge I could desire. And I would not have missed it for the world
when you called me the best man of your acquaintance."

Elizabeth
stopped short. "Your hearing is altogether too keen! Although I do not
mind that you heard that, for it is true."

"I
appreciate the sentiment, even if I do not believe the substance."

She
tilted her head back to smile at him archly. "But it is true. You are not,
perhaps, the most amiable or complying man of my acquaintance, nor even the
best-tempered or most eloquent. But the best man--that you certainly are. And
most exactly the man who in disposition and talents suits me best. Now dispute
it if you dare!"

He
kissed the tip of her nose. "I dare not dispute anything with you, my
love, for if I did the tenants would rush to your defence, throw me off my own
lands and ... " He could say no more, since Elizabeth's hand was pressed
firmly against his mouth and behind it he was laughing.

"Are
you laughing at me, sir?"

He
nibbled on her fingertips. "No, I am meditating on the very great distress
George Wickham would feel if he knew his machinations had resulted in such a
pleasurable outcome for me."

"Because
I threatened to have him horsewhipped?"

His
expression turned serious. "No, because it was the first time I believed
you truly are glad to be married to me, not just making the best of the
situation. To hear you defend me so to Wickham, while freely admitting I was
once the last man in the world you could be prevailed upon to marry, made me
the happiest man alive."

"Fitzwilliam!
If you have only just realized that, I shall have to add that you are not the
cleverest man in the world, since I have felt that way for quite some time, and
have told you as much. I hope you will believe me now."

"Will
you then agree to believe that nothing you say or do will diminish my affection
for you?"

Elizabeth
pretended to consider the matter. "I doubt it, for I so enjoy the ways you
find to reassure me your feelings have not changed. I would be sorry to give
those up completely."

He
laughed, a full, ringing laugh she had not heard from him before. He picked her
up in his arms and kissed her lingeringly, nibbling on her lip.

Suddenly
seized by a most peculiar sensation, she pushed against his shoulder.
"Fitzwilliam, put me down. Put me down this instant!"

With
a worried look, he set her carefully on her feet. "Did I hurt you? I am so
very sorry, my love."

She
pressed her hands against her waist, half-distracted. "No, no, you did not
hurt me. It is quickening!"

He
covered her hands with his own. His hands, her hands, and their child.

Elizabeth
smiled tremulously. "It is a very strange sensation."

"Come,
you must sit down." He led her through the heavy wooden doors into the
chapel and helped her into the last pew, where the sun spilled a pool of
coloured light from the stained glass window above them.

"I
am quite well, you know." She automatically lowered her voice, as she
always did in church. There was another odd lurch inside her, as if her stomach
had suddenly decided to turn somersaults. A new life. It was humbling and
glorious at the same time. She moved closer to Darcy, seeking the comfort of
his arm against hers, and looked up to meet his gaze.

He
took her hand and pressed it to his lips, making her wedding band to glint in
the dappled light. How fortunate she was to have him, even if she had struggled
to hide her misery the day he put the ring on her finger. So much had changed
since then. How she wished she could have it all to do over again, to have
begun their marriage in love! But then she might never have come to appreciate
her husband's depths the way she did now. Had she never known the despair of
losing him, she might never have shared with him some of the deeper secrets of
her soul. She had been too private a person for that when she was Miss
Elizabeth Bennet of Longbourn. Not even Jane or Charlotte knew as much of her thoughts
and fears as her husband did, no matter how their marriage had begun.

She
gazed up into Darcy's dark eyes, seeing in them the deep emotion of the moment.
Slowly she spoke the words again, the way she wished she could have spoken them
all those months ago, with a full heart. "To
have and to hold from this day forward, for better
for worse, for richer for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love, cherish,
and to obey, till death us do part."

His
eyes seemed to encompass all of her as he took in her meaning. Then he replied,
"Forsaking all others, as long as we both shall live." He cupped her
cheek in his hand and kissed her lightly and decorously, as he had so long ago
in the church at Longbourn. "Of course, I meant it the first time I said
it, too."

Elizabeth's
lips twitched, glad he could tease her about it. "You always were a quick
study! I must take my time in considering these matters."

He
leaned toward her and spoke quietly in her ear. "I meant the part about
'with my body I thee worship' as well." His tone left little doubt where
his thoughts had turned.

"Fitzwilliam!
We are in church!" She was half-amused, half-scandalized.

"Then,
by all means, let us return to the house." He helped her to her feet and
offered her his arm, and together they emerged into the sunlit lane.