Music suddenly filled the small chapel, signaling to all within that the ceremony was now officially ended. Darcy watched in a daze as the two smiling couples, who had eyes for none but each other, turned and proceeded up the aisle arm in arm. The doors were thrown open without ceremony, and as birdsong filled the air, all four young people burst out into the perfect June morning amidst shouts of joy and wishes of glad tidings and prosperity. Beaming, Elizabeth stood and tugged on her husband’s hand. The wedding breakfast would be held on a stone terrace not far from the house. A white canopy had been erected by the servants and trimmed with seasonal flowers and silk ribbon. It would be a sumptuous affair, a perfect complement to the ball that had been held the night before. Darcy placed his wife’s hand in the crook of his arm and sighed.
After a rather emotional day, and well past the hour when his guests had retired for the night, Darcy stood alone in Pemberley’s nursery, gazing upon his daughter, who was not quite one year.
The door creaked open so silently he failed to hear it, nor did he discern the soft footsteps of his wife as she approached in her dressing gown and slippered feet. Her heart full, Elizabeth watched him for several minutes while he traced their slumbering daughter’s pudgy little cheek with his index finger. Her voice was soft when she finally called to him.
He did not turn but remained with his gaze fixed upon their precious babe. It was many moments before he spoke, his voice low after such a monumental day. “It never fails to astound me how very much Eleanor resembles you,” he murmured. “She is so tiny, yet she has your eyes, your lips, your dark curls, even that little crinkle that appears between your brows when you are contemplating something you find baffling.”
Just then, the young lady in question reached out one plump thumb and four fat little fingers and wrapped them around her father’s finger. She ignored Darcy’s attempt to extract himself and held tight, refusing to let go. She sucked on her bottom lip as she slept on.
Darcy smiled at her quiet determination. “She also seems to have inherited your willful spirit, as well,” he softly laughed. With a smile of her own, Elizabeth extracted her husband’s finger from her daughter’s firm grasp, then watched as he slowly raked his hands through his hair, his voice no more than a whisper. “I remember Georgiana being this small as though it were yesterday.”
Elizabeth’s heart went out to him. She knew, perhaps better than anyone, how attached her husband was to his sister and how acutely he was feeling her loss, especially at this moment. Having raised Georgiana on his own since she had been eleven, she had, in many respects, been more of a daughter to Darcy than a sister. He had become equally as attached to Lydia in the past four years, and having to part not with one but with both on the same day had been almost too much for him to bear. Elizabeth stood on her toes and kissed his cheek. Darcy’s arms instantly went around her, and she proclaimed, “It has been an emotional day, has it not?”
Darcy buried his face in Elizabeth’s hair, closed his eyes, and allowed the familiar scent of lavender to wash over him, as well as the comforting presence of her softness. The combination, even after the newness of their marriage had worn off, was still instrumental in soothing his agitation. “This day, I fear, has been more difficult than I had originally anticipated,” he admitted.
Elizabeth raised her head and kissed him. “My dearest,” she murmured as she smoothed an unruly curl from his brow, “I can only imagine how you must feel, but I suspect it will become easier with time. This is only the first day, and though Lydia is to reside in Scarborough, Georgiana will be settled only ten miles from Pemberley. She and Mr. Blake have promised to visit us often, and I need not remind you, Fitzwilliam, in the meantime you shall have a most attentive and loving wife to lavish affection upon you. As you are well aware, sir, you will never find yourself at loose ends so long as I am here to encompass every spare second of your time.” Elizabeth reassured him with another kiss and a warm look that brought him further relief.
Darcy smiled down upon her. His eyes closed once more, and with a sigh, he allowed his wife to placate him with her ministrations. Elizabeth said in a teasing voice, “You must also strive to remember that you have a family who absolutely adores you. I believe you know I refer to more than your son and daughter, my dear. You have several other sisters, you know, who love you, as well, to say nothing of an extremely attentive mother-in-law.”
At this declaration, Darcy laughed. “I do hope, however,” he said, “that your mother and her good intentions will remain at Longbourn with your father for some duration before coming to stay with us again. You must own that her exuberance can be trying, especially when there is a wedding at hand. And there has been more than one occasion during this visit, in spite of your father’s efforts to check her, when she attempted to lay the blame for Lydia’s initial desire to leave Longbourn upon my shoulders, alone. That, you must own, is hardly fair.”
Elizabeth sighed. “I cannot disagree with you, but I am more inclined to believe the happiness of her favorite daughter’s most fortuitous marriage to Mr. Brewster to have eclipsed any real resentment she may have once harbored toward you on that score. You know she would hardly be civil to you at all if that were the case—or to me for that matter—and she has been, for the most part, quite affectionate toward us both.”
“True. I cannot argue that, in many instances, your mother has been solicitous and kind, especially where the children are concerned, but it does not necessarily follow that because of it I am willing to excuse her more vexatious behavior. In light of all that has passed, you know how it infuriates me to hear her always speaking of frippery, suitors, and marriage to Eleanor. I am convinced that, having now lost all her daughters to common sense and enlightenment, your mother is determined to make ours into the silliest creature imaginable. I will not have it. For God’s sake, Elizabeth, she is but ten months old!” he shouted.
Though Eleanor slept on, young Charles, who had been sleeping on the other side of the nursery, stirred at his father’s harsh tone. Elizabeth laid her hand upon Darcy’s arm as she watched their son roll onto his stomach and snore softly, clutching a toy tightly in his arms. Darcy, his jaw rigid, exhaled and ran his hands across his forehead before he strode from the room.
When Elizabeth found him a few moments later, he was on the balcony just off the master’s chambers. His back was to her, and his hands were braced upon the railing, clutching the iron in his fists. His stiff posture told her all she needed to know—he was far from happy. She came to stand beside him and inquired, “What is it that is truly bothering you, Fitzwilliam? For though my mother has often incited agitation in each of us, you have hardly been yourself this day, my love.”
“Forgive me,” Darcy muttered, his voice barely audible, and after running the back of his hand across his mouth several times, he confessed, “All this business of courting and weddings, I believe, has finally taken its toll on me. I am not cut out for this, Elizabeth… this meeting with prospective suitors and judging correctly whether or not they are sincere in their attentions to those whom I hold most dear. I fear I am ever doubtful and suspicious, and that is very unlikely to change… ever.”
“You are an elder brother, Fitzwilliam, and now a father. Indeed, it is to be expected,” she replied.
“It is more than that. I remember well what befell both our sisters not so long ago, and at the hands of the same blackhearted scoundrel. However, in many senses of the word, we have been fortunate. Though it took time, Georgiana recovered and met Blake—an excellent man—and Brewster fell in love with Lydia, much in the same manner I fell in love with you. It is not every man who would overlook what either of them went through, nor excuse their actions in such events, but it is even more than that. I cannot help but worry that someday Eleanor will desire to leave our protection only to throw herself into the power of some undeserving man who could not possibly recognize or appreciate her true worth.”