The Last Waltz: . . . another pride and prejudice journey of love (33 page)

Then they had tenderly made love, an experience as new to him as it was to her. And into that ultimate act of consummation, he had poured all of his feelings. Each kiss, each touch that he had bestowed upon her was with only one purpose in mind: to show her the depth of his love. Would he ever truly be able to express just how much he loved her?

She stirred in his arms. He pulled her closer, and she nestled herself against his chest. He supposed he should feel some remorse that he had used their waltz to seduce his lovely new bride almost immediately upon their arrival. Their bags still waited to be unpacked, and he was sure their dinner had turned cold hours ago. But he had been too impatient to wait any longer. He needed her to be his completely. Her eyelids fluttered open, and she gave him a warm smile.

With a tinge of guilt in his voice, he asked apprehensively, “How are you feeling, Elizabeth?”

She looked lovingly into his eyes, and with a slight twitch of her lips she replied, “Hungry.”

********

The bride and groom spent the next morning leisurely in bed exploring the many pleasures of being newlyweds. By early afternoon, hunger was again their motivation for leaving Elizabeth’s bedchamber.

They enjoyed a satisfying brunch, and then with all of their appetites presently sated, Elizabeth expressed a desire to visit the library while Darcy headed for his study to attend his mail. Before she left his company, he pulled her into his arms and kissed her soundly on the mouth.

“Do not be too long, sweet Lizzy, as I have yet to show you the rest of the house. We can start your tour with my bedchamber.”

Although it was said with a grin upon his face, the heat that passed between them as he held her gaze eliminated any possibility that it was only a tease. Despite her flushed complexion, she quite readily nodded her agreement.

Once in his study, Darcy shuffled through his correspondence. His eyes fell upon the small package that Mrs. Bates had mentioned last evening, and his curiosity was piqued. As he unwrapped it, a note fell from within. He picked up the note and read:

Dear Mr. Darcy,

I recently came upon this item. It is my belief that you are its rightful owner, and I gladly take this opportunity to return it to you. I understand, all too well, the cherished value of a family heirloom. I hope that you wear it always in good health.

Yours most sincerely,

Lady Clavering

Darcy stared at the name. It held no meaning for him. As far as he could recall, he had never made the acquaintance of a Lady Clavering, although the handwriting looked vaguely familiar.

More curious than ever, Darcy pulled the item from the package, and in amazement he stared at the object he thought he would never again hold in his hands… his father’s pocket watch.

EPILOGUE

Elizabeth Darcy awoke in her luxurious bedchamber at Pemberley. She turned to smile upon the man who had given her so much happiness over the past year, but when she looked over at the pillow beside her, she was alone. The evening before last Fitzwilliam had informed her that he had early business in Sheffield on the morrow and that he would try not to disturb her slumber. Despite her reassurances that she wished to be awakened, yesterday morning he had soundlessly left her bed, unbeknownst to her.

He was due home yesterday evening, but obviously the storms that had suddenly descended upon most of Derbyshire had caused his delay. Last night marked the first time since their marriage a year ago, that they had not slept together in the same bed. She had hoped she would awaken this morning to find him there beside her. Today of
all
days she would have wished that his warm and comforting embrace be the first thing she experienced.

Unused to waking up without him there, her bed now seemed cold and uninviting. Why hadn’t she
insisted
that he wake her yesterday? Perhaps they could have made love before his departure. At the very least, she could have seen him off on his journey and kissed him goodbye.

The fact that she felt unattractive and cumbersome of late only added to her gloom. Perhaps it was by design, and not out of consideration that he had chosen to leave her bed so early in the morning without awakening her. That depressing thought had her reaching for her dressing gown as she rose for the day. Within moments, Mrs. Reynolds was at her door.

“Is everything all right, Mrs. Darcy? Do you require anything?”

“I am perfectly fine,” she said with much more vehemence than she had intended. “Sorry, Mrs. Reynolds. Please forgive my rudeness. I am not quite myself these days.”

“Now there is no need apologize, Mrs. Darcy. I imagine it is to be expected. I am sure you will be right as rain again as soon as Mr. Darcy returns home.”

She gave Mrs. Reynolds an indulgent smile, and she could only hope that
right as rain
was within her immediate forecast.

“Did you happen to see Mr. Darcy before he left yesterday morning?”

“Yes, I made sure he had eaten a hearty breakfast before setting out on his travels.”

“You spoil him, Mrs. Reynolds.”

“That I do, since he was four years old. I see no point in stopping now.”

“Did he happen to say anything before he left? Perhaps he left a message for me.”

“No, Mrs. Darcy, he did not. It was not intention to be away for so long. Please do not worry yourself; he will be back very soon.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Reynolds.”

When the kindly housekeeper had left her company, Elizabeth went to the window and looked out at the rain. What if it did not let up? What if Fitzwilliam was again forced to spend another night away from Pemberley? Could she endure another night of worry, another night without him holding her in his arms?

Elizabeth tried to dismiss such an unhappy thought, choosing instead to reflect upon the past year. It was their first year together as man and wife, one that that had been filled with so much activity.

In February, Charlotte had given birth to an eight pound baby girl. Mr. Collins had insisted upon them naming her Catherine, of course. It had been a somewhat difficult delivery. But Charlotte’s many long hours of labour had accomplished two things: a heathy daughter and Mr. Collins’s decision that his poor, dear wife should never have to go through such an ordeal ever again. Charlotte had released an audible sigh of relief that her husband would no longer visit her bedchamber.

Elizabeth and Fitzwilliam had travelled to Rosings so that she could be with Charlotte when her time came. Of course, that had meant being in the company of Lady Catherine de Bourgh. When his aunt refused to extend even the smallest of civilities to his new wife, Darcy promptly moved them into the small inn at Westerham, only a few miles from Hunsford.

The accommodations were less than luxurious. They had been forced to sleep in a tiny bed with their bodies pressed tightly against each another, but surprisingly, neither one of them had voiced a complaint.

Elizabeth smiled as she recalled how Fitzwilliam had even volunteered for them to stay on an extra day or two in case Charlotte should further require their assistance.

Satisfied now that she had driven all unpleasant thoughts from her mind, Elizabeth turned from the window. She changed into her day dress and made her way slowly down the staircase. As she sat down to break her fast, Mrs. Reynolds brought in the morning’s post. A letter from Kitty sat atop the pile.

Kitty was now a married woman, as she and Jeremy McGregor had wed last April. Their wedding had been the most beautiful springtime affair. Meryton Church was adorned with all the flowers of the season but as Kitty stood at its altar, she hardly noticed as her eyes remained steady upon Jeremy. The happy couple had gone to Ireland on their honeymoon and took the opportunity to visit some of Jeremy’s relatives who still resided there. Upon their return, they settled into Elms Manor, his small estate which bordered Longbourn.

Elizabeth put the letter in her pocket, deciding she would read it later. She finished her breakfast and headed for the atrium. Aside from hers and Fitzwilliam’s chambers, this was her favourite place in all of Pemberley. She had taken over the care and preservation of the special garden here and had read the many books in Pemberley’s library regarding horticulture and cross-breeding. It was a garden she took great delight in and was quite proud of. She walked to the far end and observed the hybrid that Fitzwilliam’s mother had fostered. It was now in full bloom; its deep purple colour so rich and vivid. She had used the cuttings from the plant to propagate several others. There now was an entire section of the atrium garden devoted to this particular species.

She sat down on one of the benches and thought about all the evenings that she and Fitzwilliam had come here to relax and enjoy the quiet in each other’s arms. How could she miss him so much after only one day?

As a distraction, she pulled Kitty’s letter from her pocket and broke the seal.

November 15, 1813

Dearest Lizzy,

I hope that you and Mr. Darcy are well. I can hardly wait for the Christmas season to be upon us so that we all might be together again at Pemberley.

Elizabeth smiled at the thought. Jane’s last letter had made reference to the very same thing. It was going to be so wonderful to have all their family together for the holidays.

But the real reason for my letter is that I have some news that will astound you, Lizzy. Last evening our mother and father dined with us at Elms Manor, and our mother was all atwitter. It seems that Mr. Whitley, the widower who now resides at Purvis Lodge, has been calling at Longbourn. And you will never guess; he and our sister Mary are betrothed! Is that not astonishing? Mother, of course, is already planning the wedding which will take place in March.

Lydia has been in a foul mood ever since the engagement was announced. She has not had a kind word for anyone and heaven help the next poor unfortunate soul who points out that she will now be the only unmarried daughter at Longbourn.

Elizabeth could not help the grin that appeared on her face. Her sister Lydia had been so sure she would be the first of all her sisters to wed, and as it now turns out, she would be the last.

She finished the letter, then worked in the garden for the next two hours, hoping it would help pass the time until Fitzwilliam’s return.

Mrs. Reynolds prepared her a nourishing lunch, but Elizabeth seemed to have lost her appetite. By three in the afternoon, there was still no sign of him, but the rain had let up a little.

Trying to convince herself that he would most definitely be home by dinner, she headed for her bedchamber closet to look through her gowns. She wanted to look her best for him upon his return. She pulled out the pale pink organdy she had worn last month to Georgiana and Colonel Fitzwilliam’s wedding. She sat down on the bed as she remembered the events that surrounded that happy occasion.

Colonel Fitzwilliam had resigned his commission as soon as he and Georgiana had announced their engagement. He had proved himself in Darcy’s eyes, beyond any doubt, of his commitment to his and Georgiana’s union. With his pension from the military and Georgiana’s dowry they had purchased a small estate about thirty miles from Pemberley. Darcy had been only too happy to help instruct Richard as to the complexities of being an estate owner, and the two cousins had never been closer.

The day of the wedding, it was Richard who had seemed to be the nervous one of the happy couple as he stood rigid in front of the vicar, while Georgiana was the picture of tranquility. The depth of the love that existed between them was undeniable and there was no doubt that they would spend the rest of their lives devoted to each other’s happiness.

Elizabeth recalled what a glorious day that had been. The private chapel at Pemberley where the ceremony had taken place had been adorned with dozens of white orchids. Georgiana had asked her to serve as her matron of honour and, of course, Darcy had been Richard’s best man. The day had been filled with gaiety and laughter, heartfelt feelings and a strong sense of family.

That night Fitzwilliam had made such tender love to her that one would have thought it had been
their
wedding day. How she wished he was here right now so she could remind him of just how much she loved him.

Elizabeth stood and held the dress in front of her before the pier glass. She took a deep breath, and a frown appeared upon her face. Even though she had worn it just a month ago, she doubted she would fit into it now. She placed the gown back in her closet and searched for a less form-fitting one.

Elizabeth now paced the length of her room. It was five o’clock, and the rain had stopped about an hour ago. Where was he? Had there been an accident? No, she would not let her mind go there. He was probably going to walk through the door at any moment, and she would rush to him and melt into his arms.

But when the clock above the mantel struck six times and he still had not arrived, Elizabeth felt as if she could not breathe. She needed to talk to someone—someone who would just listen and let her express her fears, someone who she trusted with her deepest darkest secrets, and Elizabeth knew just the one in whom she wished to confide.

She braved the mud as she headed for the stables. When she arrived, he seemed just as happy to see her as she was to see him. He whinnied upon her entrance into his stall, and Elizabeth released a large breath as she felt some of the tension leave her body. She held out a piece of the apple she had brought for him, and Florio snickered as he lapped it from her palm.

Elizabeth stroked the long length of his nose which seemed to have a calming effect on them both. “Oh Florio, I am so afraid something has happened to him. I feel as if we must now pay the price for so much happiness.”

Tears trickled down her cheeks as she hugged the stallion’s neck. “He
will
come back to me, will he not, Florio?” When she released her arms, Elizabeth could swear that his head bobbed up and down as if in answer to her question. Elizabeth could not help but smile up at him through her tears. She offered him the rest of the apple, and then using a soft body brush, she rewarded his indulgence as she brushed his coat until it glistened.

At eight o’clock, supper was served, and Elizabeth asked that it be sent to the upstairs sitting room. The thought of eating alone at the dining table was just too depressing.

She half-heartedly picked at her meal, and then she retreated to her bedchamber.

She wound the key on the music box that sat atop her bedside table, and the familiar waltz began to play. Tears once again threatened as Elizabeth fought to banish the frightening thoughts that were constantly on the peripheral of her mind.

“May I have this waltz, Mrs. Darcy?”

Elizabeth stopped breathing.

She turned towards the door, and just the sight of him made her light-headed. He was alive and well and here in her bedchamber. She eagerly rushed to him with tears of happiness in her eyes.

“Fitzwilliam,” was all she could manage to say, as her arms reached around him. She breathed in the comforting familiarity of his musky scent and buried herself in his embrace.

Darcy’s arms automatically enfolded her. “Don’t cry, Elizabeth,” he whispered. “Everything is all right. I am here.”

They stood motionless in that exact positon for many minutes, merely wanting to hold each other until the empty feeling that they each had experienced for the past two days was completely dispelled.

“I was so worried that something had happened to you,” she murmured against his neck.

“The roads from Sheffield were impassable. I tried to make it through last evening, but the floods rose above the carriage’s wheels. I had no choice but to turn back.”

“You are here now, and you are safe; that is all that matters.”

“I would never forgive myself if I missed our anniversary.”

“I am so glad that you did not. I know it has only been two days, Fitzwilliam, but I missed you terribly.”

“And I regret that I caused you such worry. I missed you too, Elizabeth. I find that I do not like sleeping without you beside me. I shall try to avoid it as much as possible in the future. I love you so much, Elizabeth, more than I ever thought I could love anyone.”