The Art of Apology (Happiness in Marriage)

Chapter 36

CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

Eight weeks later

T he next morning, Elizabeth would be united in matrimony with the only man she could ever imagine marrying. Each day, her heart filled with more love for him, and her certainty that he was what she had always needed, the other half to the person she was meant to be, grew. They had spent the long, dark weeks of winter together in Hertfordshire and London, where she and Jane had stayed at Gracechurch Street for almost a month. It had been an opportunity to shop for their weddings and lives as married ladies, but what Elizabeth especially valued about it was the chance to know Darcy’s family further. She liked them all, loved Georgiana as a sister already, and had become good friends with Rebecca. No one had heard from Lady Catherine since the Twelfth Night ball apart from Lord Romsley, who had received a letter that he refused to discuss. Jane had often been in company with Bingley’s sisters, and, much to Elizabeth’s surprise, the ladies had decided to embrace their brother’s marriage and new sister-in-law. She supposed it was either set aside their objections or risk a breach with Bingley, and she was proud of them that they had chosen so wisely.

Netherfield Park and Longbourn were both full of guests for the wedding. Lord and Lady Romsley, their sons, the new Viscountess Bramwell—the couple had married a fortnight earlier—Mr and Mrs Frederick Darcy, Georgiana, and the Gardiners had all travelled to Hertfordshire to take part in the celebrations, as had the Hursts and Miss Bingley. Presently, Elizabeth and Darcy were taking advantage of a day that could be called no better than ‘not bad’ and had gone into the open air for solitude and exercise. They were confined to the roads, the paths in the gardens and those they had met on in the autumn being too muddy.

“I cannot believe I let you talk me into taking a walk,” Darcy said.

“You do not find the damp, overcast weather appealing? I thought that it would hold your interest at least. I knew the company would not.” She sighed loudly. “How my power over you has faded. So quickly too! I had hoped it might last until the autumn. Christmas, if I was fortunate.”

One of the many things she had learnt about Darcy during the weeks of their engagement was that he was a simple man, in some ways. He did exactly as she expected upon hearing her speak disparagingly about herself—he stopped walking, took her face between his hands, and kissed her until she was nearly breathless. To be sure, he knew she was teasing, but that did not matter; he could not bear any suggestion that he did not love her ardently and would continue to do so for the rest of their lives and beyond. He would not call her perfect. They had discussed the topic in late January. She no longer recalled how it had begun, but they had soon agreed that no person was without flaw; thus, there was no such thing as a perfect woman or man. However, someone might be perfect for you , and that they were to each other.

“Minx,” he muttered before giving her a quick kiss, tucking her arm about his elbow, and continuing on their way. It was necessary to keep walking since the day was rather cool in addition to being damp and overcast. Only a strong desire to be alone for a short while had driven them from the warmth of Netherfield’s drawing room where their families were gathered to spend the afternoon and take dinner together.

“In just a few hours, we shall be separated until we see each other at the church tomorrow morning,” she said. “I am finding it almost impossible to believe this day is finally upon us.” He made a noise of agreement. “Then off to town we go, and in just a few weeks, I shall see Pemberley at last—as long as there is no more snow, or not very much.”

He chuckled. “That is what you are truly anticipating? Not being my wife or there finally being an end to the fuss of planning the wedding and packing what you want to bring with you, which you led me to believe was tiresome work. You just want to see my estate.”

She laughed gleefully, unable to hide how happy she was. “Exactly so, sir. You did not expect anything different. Or did you?” He shook his head, and she would not have been surprised if he had also rolled his eyes at her silliness. Speaking more seriously, she said, “You know very well how I long to be your wife and have you for my husband. I am looking forward to seeing Derbyshire, and Pemberley especially, because it will be our home and I have heard so many delightful stories and descriptions of it, but what I most want is for us to be together and embark on our new life.”

“My sentiments are exactly the same,” he said. “Eight weeks did not seem especially long to wait when we decided on a wedding date, but it feels as if it has been eight months.”

Establishing the day on which they—along with Jane and Bingley—would marry had taken a fair amount of negotiation and a number of letters. Mrs Bennet had wanted to ensure she had enough time to, ‘do the thing properly! It is not often a family sees two of their daughters married at once, and to such fine gentlemen!’ Jane and Bingley’s opinions had to be considered, and much to Elizabeth’s surprise, they had actually had opinions. She generally considered them both to be so good-natured and unwilling to disappoint anyone that they would agree to whatever was suggested to them. In addition, because Darcy’s family wanted to be part of the festivities, they needed to be sure the date did not conflict with Lord and Lady Bramwell’s wedding or any of Lord Romsley’s many responsibilities.

“But it is here at last. In less than four-and-twenty hours, we shall be Mr and Mrs Fitzwilliam Darcy, and we shall set about fulfilling our destiny.”

His steps slowed as he turned his head to look at her. “Our destiny?”

Arranging her features into the most serious expression she could manage, she gave a single firm nod and said, “Our destiny. Were you not aware that we had one?”

He scratched a spot between his eyebrows. “No. Perhaps you ought to tell me about it, my love. I would like to know what to expect.”

“Since you asked so prettily. I should preface my explanation by saying that this is how our destiny should unfold. It is up to us to make it a reality.”

“Do I detect some hesitation, Miss Bennet? You said you knew our destiny, and I would like to hear it, if you please.”

“Patience, Mr Darcy, patience!” she mock-reprimanded, which earned her another head shake. He also smiled, though, because he loved it when she teased him; he had told her so many times. “We shall have three children, two boys and a girl. Our eldest son should be named for your family, but I have not quite determined what. You will not want to use George, despite it being your father’s name.” Mr Wickham had spoilt that for him.

“Hugh,” Darcy said decidedly. “It was his second name and that of my grandfather.”

“I like that very well. Hugh for our first son, and since we are to have two, the second will be named for my family. Rupert, perhaps, after my father. I prefer that to Bennet, and I believe Jane has already decided to use it for their first son. Naturally, I shall love my nephew, whatever my feelings about his name.”

“Our daughter too.” When she asked what he meant, he explained, “You said we would have a daughter, and she should be called after your mother or one of your sisters. Or you. I am particularly fond of the name Elizabeth.”

“That is most kind of you, and if my mother knew you considered her name worthy of your daughter, she would be flattered. But I was thinking it should be Anne after your mother. We could add my mother’s name, if Jane has not already used it for her daughter, or, as you said, that of one of my sisters. But enough about names. Do you not want to know what else the future has in store for us?”

“Pray continue. I am finding this highly entertaining.”

“Georgiana has a brilliant first Season, and eventually she is claimed by a worthy gentleman who loves her dearly and whom she loves in return. I promise you, this man is one to whom even you cannot object.”

“I doubt it,” he muttered.

Elizabeth pretended not to hear him. “Do not worry, my darling, she will not marry until she is my present age, so we shall have her with us for a while yet, which pleases me exceedingly.” Darcy was a little too protective of his sister, in her opinion, and she happened to know that Georgiana was beginning to find it rather oppressive. Elizabeth had promised that she would do what she could to help him accept that his sister was a young woman and could not always remain the child she had been when their father had died and she had clung to him for comfort and stability.

“Jane and Bingley will not always want to remain at Netherfield, and the current owners are unlikely to sell it, in any case,” Elizabeth went on. “Since they will need a new estate, you will just happen to know of one less than twenty miles from Pemberley. Their children and ours will grow up being the best of friends, and their son will marry our daughter.”

“Your knowledge of our future extends to the next generation?” he asked, his tone disbelieving.

She hushed him. “I am almost finished, and I am approaching the most crucial part. Our children will grow into fine adults, and we shall be enormously proud of them. Hugh will be a diligent eldest son, and Rupert will be a widely respected member of the clergy. He will consider becoming an officer, but he will understand that I would worry excessively. And”—she stopped walking and stood facing him, gazing into his eyes, his hands in hers—“you and I shall be known far and wide as the most fortunate, most perfectly matched, happiest couple the world has ever seen. Forevermore.”