Page 60 of Mr. Darcy's Runaway Bride
“Better than I have been, certainly.” Mr Bennet’s lips twisted in a self-deprecating smile. “Tell me truthfully, Lizzy—are you happy in your marriage? Not merely content, but happy?”
Elizabeth considered the question. Two months ago, she might have hesitated. Now, however, the answer came easily.
“Yes, Papa. I am happy. Mr Darcy is everything good and honourable. Our marriage began unusually, but it has grown into something neither of us anticipated.”
“Love?” Mr Bennet asked, his eyebrow raised.
Elizabeth felt a blush rise to her cheeks. “Yes. Love.”
Mr Bennet nodded; satisfaction tinging his expression. “Then I am content. Your happiness is worth more than any financial security or social advantage.”
After leaving the library, Elizabeth sought out Jane, finding her in the garden among the late summer roses. They walked together along the familiar paths, the sun warm upon their shoulders.
“I am glad Papa has made amends,” Jane said when Elizabeth recounted their conversation. “He has been troubled by his conscience these past weeks.”
“I can imagine,” she replied. “But he need worry no more. All shall be well now. And perhaps soon he shall not worry at all for both his daughters will be married to fine gentlemen.”
A gentle blush suffused Jane’s cheek. “I do not wish to presume, but I hope Mr Bingley will make an offer.”
“He is hosting a ball so he can be near you and dance with you again, I should imagine he will want to make an offer. Perhaps even at the ball.”
“I dream of it, Lizzy. He is wonderful indeed,” Jane replied, her voice soft with feeling.
“Darcy speaks highly of Mr Bingley’s constancy once his affections are engaged.”
“And you, Lizzy? When you speak of Mr Darcy, there is a warmth in your voice that was absent from your letters at first.”
Elizabeth took her sister’s hand and beamed before telling her all that had occurred over the last few weeks. “I have found a man whose character I admire deeply.”
As they reached the house, Elizabeth glanced at the sun’s position. “I should return to Netherfield. Darcy will be wondering what has become of me.”
“I shall see you at dinner?” Jane asked.
“Yes,” Elizabeth promised. “I do feel much better about dinner now that Father and I have smoothed our differenced and the girls have asked every perceivable question about Pemberley.”
Jane chuckled. “Yes, it was a good idea to come alone. So Mr Darcy will not suffer through an extended interview this evening.”
She bade farewell to Jane and the rest of her family then and departed, the Darcy carriage bearing her back towards Netherfield. As the familiar landscape of Longbourn receded behind her, Elizabeth contemplated the curious nature ofhomecoming. She had returned to the place of her childhood, only to discover that her true home now lay elsewhere—at Pemberley, with her husband.
The realisation brought both joy and a curious melancholy. One chapter of her life had closed, perhaps more decisively than she had understood until today. Another had opened, full of promise and unexpected happiness.
How would Darcy fare when he accompanied her? How would her family receive him? And what if someone mentioned Mr Wickham?
Elizabeth frowned, her hand rising unconsciously to her temple. She had not yet told Darcy of her acquaintance with Wickham, though she had resolved to do so upon their return to Pemberley. Perhaps she ought to speak to him before then. Caroline Bingley had spoken of the militia and the way she had formed her words had made her wonder if she knew something, held back something. But how could she?
She had not been here when Wickham had been. And did she even know who he was? Perhaps Darcy’s friendship with Mr Bingley might have caused her to have some understanding of the situation. Was that a chance Elizabeth wanted to take?
Chapter 21
Elizabeth
Darcy sat beside Elizabeth in the carriage as they made their way to Longbourn. She glanced at him, noting the slight rigidity in his posture that betrayed his apprehension.
“They are not so very terrible,” she ventured with a small smile. “I promise the evening shall not extend beyond bearable limits.”
Darcy turned towards her, his expression softening. “I am not concerned for myself, but for you. This morning’s visit appeared to tax your spirits considerably.”
“It was overwhelming,” Elizabeth acknowledged. “But tonight, will be different.”
