Page 60 of Grief and Grievances
Elizabeth only shook her head at him, but by the laughter in her eyes, he knew there was a story here, one she would undoubtedly regale him with later, with all her sparkling wit. He rather looked forward to it.
“Well, well,” Mr. Bennet interrupted their silent communication. “I daresay if Mr. Darcy is the man you want, then I shall not stand in your way. Indeed, I rather think you had better have my blessing, dear child, so that I may be invited to visit this magnificent Pemberley I have heard so much about. And its library.” He cast Darcy a laughing look over the top of his glasses, and Darcy suddenly recognised exactly where Elizabeth had learned that wit he found so charming.
“Pemberley and her library shall always be at your disposal, sir,” he said, stepping forward to shake Mr. Bennet’s hand. “You and all your family will always be more than welcome.”
Overcome with the joy of their betrothal, Darcy and Elizabeth eagerly shared their news with those closest to them. As they stood together in the drawing room of Longbourn, the excitement radiating from them like the warm glow of a hearth fire, their family and friends could not help but be swept up in their happiness.
“Your news fills my heart with delight,” Jane declared, embracing Elizabeth tightly, as Mr. Bingley beamed beside her. “I could not wish for anything more wonderful.”
“Indeed,” Bingley chimed in, shaking Darcy’s hand fervently. “We shall be family in truth, Darcy, and I could not be happier about it.”
“Mr. Bennet, Mrs. Bennet,” Darcy addressed his future in-laws with a solemn air, “I assure you, I shall do everything in my power to ensure Elizabeth’s happiness.”
“Of that, I have no doubt, sir,” replied Mr. Bennet, a twinkle in his eye betraying his dry wit. “And I trust you shall find no shortage of assistance in that endeavour from our good daughter.”
“La! Mr. Darcy, you shall make a fine addition to our family,” gushed Mrs. Bennet, positively aglow with the prospect of another grand wedding. “We must begin the preparations at once!”
As the conversation turned to the particulars of the wedding, Darcy found himself marvelling at the ease with which he now conversed with these people who would soon become his relations. The thought sent a pang of gratitude through him; how different his life might have been if his feelings for Elizabeth had not challenged him to reassess his priorities and values.
“Tell me, Mr. Darcy,” said Kitty, sidling up to him with a mischievous grin, “do you think Georgiana would permit me to borrow one of her gowns for the occasion?”
“Miss Catherine,” Darcy replied, arching an eyebrow in amusement, “I have no doubt that my sister would be most honoured to invite you all to visit her dressmaker with her—where I shall pay for each of you to have a new gown for the occasion.”
“Then it is settled!” cried Lydia, clapping her hands together. “We shall have the most splendid wedding the county has ever seen!”
“Indeed, we shall endeavour to make it so,” Elizabeth agreed, her eyes twinkling with mirth as she regarded her boisterous sister.
“Ah, but sister,” Mary interjected, her voice sombre, “let us not forget the solemnity of the occasion, which unites not only two hearts but two families in the sacred bonds of matrimony.”
“Of course, Mary,” Elizabeth conceded, smiling indulgently at her serious sister. “You are quite correct.”
As they continued to discuss the various aspects of the upcoming nuptials, from the choice of flowers to the selection of musicians, Darcy could not help but feel a profound sense of contentment. Here, amidst these lively and affectionate people, he had found not only his future wife but also a second family who welcomed him with open arms.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
DarkcloudsgatheredoverMeryton as Wickham strode through the town, the rage in his chest boiling like a tempest. The very air seemed to conspire against him, the wind biting at his cheeks and tugging spitefully at his greatcoat. His heart thundered in indignation; Elizabeth Bennet had evaded his grasp, with the disastrous intervention of that brat, Lydia.
“Damn those infernal sisters,” he muttered under his breath, his gloved fists clenching tightly. “And curse Darcy for ever crossing my path.”
The streets of Meryton appeared to mock him, their cheerful inhabitants bustling about their business without a care, unaware of the malevolent storm brewing within his soul. He paused for a moment to compose himself, attempting to regain control of his ruffled emotions. But the image of Elizabeth’s defiant gaze haunted him, a spectre of shame he could not exorcise.
“Wickham!” called a familiar voice, causing him to turn sharply. It was his friend Lieutenant Denny, who approached with an air of concern. “Is everything quite well?”
“Perfectly so,” replied Wickham tersely, forcing a smile upon his lips. “Merely lost in thought, I’m afraid. The affairs of the world weigh heavily on a man’s shoulders.”
“Indeed,” agreed Denny, his brow furrowing as he studied Wickham’s countenance and his ruffled hair. “Though I must say, you appear rather more discomposed than I’ve seen you before.”
“Pay it no mind,” Wickham said dismissively, waving his hand. “I assure you, all is well.”
“Very well,” said Denny, unconvinced but choosing not to press the matter further. “I prefer not to be the bearer of bad news, but it seems you are to be discomposed further—Colonel Forster is looking for you and wants to see you in his office directly.”
Wickham’s heart skipped a beat, fear momentarily gripping him as he wondered if somehow word of his attempt to compromise Elizabeth had reached the Colonel. He fought to maintain his composure, managing a tight smile and nod, thanking Denny before turning his dragging feet towards the commanding officer’s quarters.
“Please, have a seat,” Colonel Forster gestured to a chair opposite his desk, his tone icy.
As Wickham sat, his mind raced, attempting to discern whether or not this meeting was about his recent transgressions. He had always been skilled at deceit, but even he knew there were limits to how much one could hide.
“Sir,” began Wickham hesitantly, “if this is regarding...”
