Page 83 of Till Death Us Do Part: Book 2
She laughed at the incongruity of the reference and assumed he got it from Mr Bartlet.
“Amanda—Elizabeth—you have told me the three women that you arenot, but they arealla part of you, and I would be loath to give up the tiniest piece of any one of them. Perhaps I did not always love them so well as I do now, but I assure you, I want all of them—I want all of you, all three incarnations, with all your complexity, just as you are.”
He took another shaking breath and continued, “I could do the same exercise. I am no longer the arrogant, ignorant, stuffed shirt full of selfish disdain of the feelings of others you were not actually introduced to in that long-ago assembly in Meryton. I am not the troubled, battered, half-sick, but still unrepentant and unpleasant man who offered his hand to a woman who was his superior without even knowing it. I am no longer the sick, grieving, guilty, and sometimes angry man of the first couple of years of our separation. Need I go on?”
She sighed. “I get the idea.”
He leaned forward and said more forcefully, “Do you want to know who Iam? I am a man deeply in love with a bookseller, who felt disloyal to his beloved deceased wife, and more than a little uncomfortable that he was mixing up two admirable women; but could not help himself. I am a man who decided he wantedyouin his life months ago but was as timid as those hairless boys you dance with when it came to doing something about it.”
She gasped, so he paused a moment. “I had an epiphany after that first supper.”
“I did too. I learned you should go easy on Spanish wine.”
“I will swear it was the English that did us in,” Darcy said with a gentle laugh, which she joined, feeling slightly better.
She smiled nervously, and he continued, “You made it clear that patience was required, which was fine with me. We have had more time to get to know each other than most couples married a year or more—but make no mistake, Amanda!”
He paused, waited patiently for her to look at him. “I am a man in love with Elizabeth Bennet, Elizabeth Darcy, Amanda Thorne, and Amanda Darcy. I came here today with the explicit goal of asking you to be my wife, though to be fair, this is about the fourth time I have tried but lost my courage. I did not attend that assembly months ago out of chance—I waslooking for youspecifically. I have even worked out how to resolve your fears, though knowing the entire story will certainly require us to put our heads together and come up with something better.”
Amanda looked at him, still feeling frightened. “You cannot fix this, Fitzwilliam.”
He snorted. “I am as stubborn as you are—perhaps more so.I will not be defeated.It is slightly complicated, and we just made it even more so, but we can put your business in a jointure where I can neither touch nor direct it. There is a new business entity called a ‘corporation’, and we have a way to protect what is yours. It is awkward and unwieldy, but we can protect you and those you love. The Americans are mad for them, but they are gaining ground in England as well. You need not be dependent on me, nor subject to my whims. I want a true partnership—one of lovers—one of equals.”
“But—marriage to abookseller,when you went to France in the middle of a war to protect your family reputation against a supposed kiss? Truly?”
She took a deep breath, thought a moment. “I suppose, if you want to go the far-fetched route, you could ‘find’ your missing wife after five years, but how awkward would that be?”
Darcy laughed. “We could even manage that. You were on a clipper ship when you were ‘drowned’. It was not due to come back to England for eighteen months, and in fact, it never arrived. We could have you on a desert island, stranded in Canada, lost on a sheep station in New Zealand, prisoner in the West Indies—there are a hundred stories more plausible than becoming a bookseller in Edinburgh. Are you so convinced you can stare downyour husbandand then pretend to be intimidated by theton? I think not!”
Amanda—Elizabeth sat still, staring at the box of books that had been the catalyst for all the ruckus, mumbling,‘but—but—but’.
Darcy leaned forward. “I will never force you, Amanda. You may be Amanda Darcy, or Elizabeth Darcy, or you could even make me change my name to Thorne. I will never force you, but I will also never give up unless you send me packing in the strongest possible terms, and I suspect that would only be temporary.”
The ridiculousness of the suggestion that he adopt a name that was made up in the first place brought a burst of laughter to her lips, and a feeling of the deepest love into her heart. Her face showed it, though she found herself incapable of speaking.
Not in the least certain he had sealed the bargain, Darcy said, “You told me you loved me, Elizabeth. Nothing else matters. Even the reputation that we worried so much about—”
She looked at him carefully, and he continued, “The arrogant young idiot you married did it because of his reputation. The older, wiser and dare I say, handsomer—”
She giggled, but finally, for the very first time, pulled off her glove, reached over and touched his face, and just smiled into his eyes.
“The world is changing, Elizabeth. There is a revolution in industry brewing. One, two, at most three generations hence—it will be thoroughly unrecognisable. You know this. I know this. Land will not be everything forever. The idea that all second and third sons must choose between the military, the church, and the law is ridiculous, and will fade away over time. The future may be trade, banking, industry—none of us know, but I want Pemberley to be prepared for it. I want our great-grandchildren to be proud that we made their lives possible. I want Darcys to lead, not follow. I love you. I need you. You said you would only marry a man who needs you as much as you need him—well,that man is me!It is as simple as that.”
She was still smiling at him, and he was not entirely certain she had even heard, so he covered the last couple of feet to puttheir faces inches apart. “My love—my life—my wife—will you marry me—again?”
By that point, he had regained his confidence, so he was nearly certain she would acquiesce. That said, he was not quite prepared when she barrelled into him like a runaway wagon, and he ended up flat on his back, gasping for air, being kissed within an inch of his life. Both members of the young-old-exhausted-energised couple felt as if they had to compress five years of emotion into a single kiss, and they both gave it their all until they were left breathless and panting as if they had run a mile.
It was desperate and brutal and lovely and even a bit violent, so strong the feeling was completely overwhelming.
After what seemed like a very long time lying on the hard floor, Elizabeth thought she was probably about to suffocate her husband and widow herself a second time, so she put her knees on the floor straddling his legs, pushed up to her hands so she could see him. “Apparently, it is my turn on hands and knees.”
Darcy chuckled, and simply reached up and kissed her again, hands on her cheeks, fingers wrapped in her hair and eyes closed.
After a time, she said, “Fitzwilliam, it is nearly six years since I saw you riding across a field with Mr Bingley in Hertfordshire. Our wedding afternoon seems to have dragged on for well over five years. Do you think we could progress to our wedding night?”
Her husband gave a roguish smile, slid out carefully from between her legs, and gave her his hands to help her up, exactly as a gentleman ought, though his thoughts at that moment were anything but gentlemanly. Both partners became a bit shy when facing each other, so she stepped in, wrapped her arms around his waist, and put her head on his chest.
Darcy found one question that had occupied a fair amount of his mind the past month was readily answered. She fit like apuzzle piece, her head at the right height to rest exactly where it belonged as he wrapped his arms around her, whispering,‘my love, my love, my wife.’
