My Dearest Mr. Darcy: An Amazing Journey Into Love Everlasting (11 page)

Lizzy's mouth had fallen open and her eyes were wide. Darcy kissed her cheek, holding her gaze as he continued, "It is as you have deduced. Wickham is not faithful to your sister, although I am assured that he is discreet, which is a surprising improvement. He gambles too much and drinks, but he does pay his bills, adequately fulfills his duties, has been in no serious offenses, and by all outward appearances cares for Lydia's needs. As you say she claims, my sources assure me that she is content. How much she is aware of Wickham's activities, I do not know. Many women in her place simply deny the truth, living in a state of willing blindness. I would have wished more for her in life, as I know you would as well, my love, but it is not as horrible as I envisioned." He smiled wryly. "I guess that is enough to be thankful for."

Lizzy was dumbfounded. "Why would you do this, William? Lydia freely placed herself in this situation. It is not your fault! You have no reason to exert such efforts or worry so."

"Logically I comprehend the truth of your assertions, Elizabeth. Lydia is a foolish girl to be sure; however, you know she would not be in this particular situation if not for me. My damnable pride and sense of politesse, not wanting to cause scandal to my family. It allowed a villain to roam free. To charm, flatter, and destroy young girls at will. And I was forced to see them married!" He shook his head and closed his eyes briefly. "Nonetheless, I watch over Lydia not out of guilt... well, not completely anyway, but because it is ethical and obligatory. She is your sister, and thus my family. I will not allow overt harm to come to her. If Wickham's behavior becomes unmanageable or hurtful, I have people in place who will remove her, forcefully if necessary."

He paused, a cloud crossing his features and tight clenching of his jaw apparent. Not for the first time Lizzy sensed there was more to his personal story of Wickham. The bits she knew from his letter and a few vague comments or short conversations like now did not fully compute. She remembered the rage on his face as far back as their days in Hertfordshire. If she hadn't been so angry with him at his insulting proposal she would have shrunk in fear from the fury evident when she threw Wickham's name into his face. And there were other unguarded moments when she had noticed expressions of profound disgust or anger when Wickham's name was mentioned. Curiosity to know more of their youth burned within, but some instinct warned her that it was likely worse than she imagined and perhaps more than she was prepared to handle. So she never asked.

He sighed faintly and shrugged imperceptibly, his face clearing as he turned toward her.

Darcy cupped her cheek, smiling in peace. "Let us make a new vow. I shall put the past affairs with Wickham behind me as best as I can, and we shall share our future knowledge freely. I cannot promise to embrace lengthy conversations on the subject, but I will not avoid them or wince overly. Deal?"

Laughing lightly, Lizzy kissed him in joy. "Have I told you lately, beloved, that you are the best man in the world?"

"Yes, but you may say it again if you wish," he offered with a grin.

She encircled his neck, drawing his forehead to hers. "You are the best man in the world, Fitzwilliam Darcy, and I love you."

S
AMUEL OLIVER AND MARGUERITE Charbonneau were joined in Holy Matrimony on September the third in the intimate Pemberley Chapel. The groom wore a fine suit of black, dashing and elegant despite the blush upon his cheeks and trembling hands. He was attended by a livery-garbed, wigged, and smiling Phillips, yet leaning on a crutch and pale. The bride was resplendent in a white taffeta gown, her golden hair for once not in a severe knot but stunningly curled and piled atop her delicate head. She was attended by her sister Dominique, a lady's maid at the inn in Matlock where Marguerite had once been employed, wearing a lacy gown of rose organdy. Aside from a few bouquets of late summer flowers and ribbons upon the pews, the chapel was left unadorned, its natural beauty and reverent essence shining brighter than any decoration would have.

Reverend Bertram, dressed in his finest vestments, performed the traditional ceremony. Marguerite was baptized a Catholic, as were most French, but religion had not played a large part in her life. Therefore, she had readily embraced the Anglican views and had met with Reverend Bertram several times to familiarize herself with Samuel's chosen faith. Essentially it was the blessing of God that was of vital importance to both of them. The entire household staff, a handful of outside staff, a few other friends from the community, and Samuel's father, a butler at Yeldersley Hall near Ashbourne, were present to witness the union. Mr. and Mrs. Darcy sat in the front pew, adding their blessings to the solemn event.

All plans had proceeded as initially outlined a month ago. Darcy arranged for a coach to transport the newlyweds to Windermere, where they would holiday for two weeks. Samuel was consulted on all arrangements but offered little in the way of feedback, generally far too uncomfortable merely by being in his Master's study to even consider carrying on a collaborative conversation. Lizzy had better luck with Marguerite, although her involvement was minimal, primarily allowing her maid to do whatever she wished in regards to the wedding. Therefore, like most women throughout the ages, Marguerite and her bridesmaid organized the bulk of the ceremony's provisions, Samuel essentially required to simply show up at the appointed time.

Mrs. Langton and Mrs. Reynolds hosted a reception in the staff quarters with feasting and merriment. The Master and Mistress extended their heartfelt congratulations to the blushing groom and radiant bride, departing to the Manor and allowing the couple to celebrate at leisure with their friends. The Olivers would spend their wedding night in their new apartment on the Pemberley lower level, Samuel's mortification far too profound for Darcy to more than hint about providing a place of greater privacy.

Lizzy and Darcy ate a light repast in the dining room, the muted sounds of revelry drifting from below, and then retired to their sitting room for the remainder of the night. Of course, this was not unusual, but tonight they would essentially be on their own as the entire staff was likely to be occupied toasting the new couple for many hours to come. Despite Samuel's fretting to the contrary, Darcy managed perfectly well with performing his personal toilette and with only his wife to assist him in undressing. Lizzy, too, was quite capable and since they both actually rather enjoyed caring for each other, not having their individual servants attend them was not an uncommon occurrence. For the two-day interim before they departed to Yarmouth, Darcy would be served by Willis, a manservant from the Osprey Inn in Brawley, and Lizzy would be assisted by Marla, one of the maids. Darcy was still not sure whether Samuel was relieved to have his Master cared for or appalled at the concept of a strange servant handling Mr. Darcy's personal effects! Whatever the case, the Darcys released a huge sigh of relief to have their servants safely wed and on their way, the organizing frankly frequently annoying with Samuel blushing and stammering incessantly.

The fourth of September dawned brightly, Lizzy reaching sleepily for her husband only to find his space vacant and cool. He had not specifically mentioned leaving early for a ride or other duty, not that he necessarily was required to do so, but he generally did. Normally this desertion would have caused no dismay or perplexity; today, however, Lizzy was shocked to find him absent. Darcy had made no reference of a specially planned celebration for this day, but Lizzy had anticipated something, even if only a romantic morning interlude. Well aware of how sentimental her spouse was, Lizzy's expectancy had grown and her first waking emotion was crushing disappointment.

"I told you not to spoil me so, William," she murmured to the empty air. "You have set the standard impossibly high." She sighed, further chastising herself for being so foolishly saddened when overall he was far and away the best man on earth. The baby suffered no such sense of disillusionment, jumping about on her bladder and demanding nourishment posthaste as usual.

Crossing the threshold to her dressing room moments later, Lizzy's emotions were again assaulted, only now with soaring amazement and glee. Hanging on a hook placed above her vanity was the very dress that she had worn one year ago today when first setting eyes on Pemberley while visiting with her aunt and uncle. Laughing joyously, she reached tremulous hands to unpin the note secured to the bodice.

My dearest wife,

Surely you did not honestly believe that I would allow this gown to be discarded? My foolish, beautiful Lizzy! If I knew of a way to have it preserved forever, I would. Madame du Loire has altered it to fit your current shape. If I may be so bold as to insist you don this garment, for me?

I pray you entertained no doubts that I would revere this day, beloved. How could I not exalt the day my heart began to beat again? For certain you know where I currently wait, breathlessly anticipating beholding your beautiful face as I did precisely 365 days ago, with the same yearning desire unabated. Only today I shall kiss you as I urgently ached to do then.

Of course, I can never express my love for you simply, so I am sending you on a quest. Solve the riddle and follow the trail for the prizes earned. I shall await you at the end, my unfailing love your ultimate reward. Hurry, my heart!

Always yours,

William

Mrs. Darcy, my pearl

~ kisses by moonlight and starlight

~ coming home never so sweet

~ cold of stone and air eradicated by ignited hearts and lips

~ the flame of a torch dim compared

Lizzy smiled, instantly solving the riddle. Dashing through the time-consuming routines, she nonetheless freshened carefully with a splash of jasmine and gloss to her lips. The dress, supposedly disposed of months ago as no longer appropriate nor wearable, fit perfectly. The bodice seams were let out and altered with a lace insert to provide space for an ample bosom, the appearance mildly different but lovely with the creamy tops of her breasts displayed. The skirt was already adequately gathered and full, no adjustment needed to accommodate the swell of their child. She pinned her hair up in a loose bun as she had worn it then, with wisps of hair framing her face.

After a last inspection and pinch to her cheeks, Lizzy hastened to the balcony. Lying upon the bench where passionate kisses commenced on Lizzy's first night at Pemberley as Mrs. Darcy was a single red rose and folded piece of parchment. Attached to the rose's stem with a slim white ribbon was a velvet pouch holding two lustrous pearls.

Illusionary clouds and sky