Page 138 of Ashes and Understanding
He pressed a tender kiss to her temple, and she closed her eyes, letting herself bask in the simple comfort of being in his arms.
For a few moments, they rode in easy silence, the cold air brisk against their faces, the sound of the horse’s hooves muffled by the snow. Elizabeth watched the sunrise fade, the last pink and gold streaks melting into a pale winter blue.
“I cannot tell you how proud I am of you, Elizabeth,” Darcy said at last. His voice was low, but rich with emotion. “What you endured, what you survived. I am in awe of you.”
She turned slightly in the saddle to look up at him, her heart full. “We endured it together. I was never alone.”
He gave a slight, disbelieving shake of his head, his eyes fierce with feeling. “You have no idea how often you have been my strength.”
Elizabeth smiled and reached up to touch his cheek lightly with her gloved fingers. “Then let us agree that we are stronger together.”
He caught her hand and pressed a reverent kiss to her knuckles. “Always.”
At the bottom of the mount, they came to a fork—left toward Longbourn, right toward Stoke Estate. They turned right, and Elizabeth looked wistfully in the opposite direction as they rode towards the Gardiner’s home.
It still felt strange to her, even a month later. Left had always meant home. Now it led only to a burned shell of a house. Longbourn had not been insured. There were no funds to rebuild, and no word yet from the investigators about whether a new heir would be found.
The past, it seemed, had been claimed by fire.
But the future rode with her now— solid and steady behind her.
When they reached Stoke House, Darcy pulled the horse to a gentle stop at the edge of the estate gardens. Elizabeth reluctantly slid down from the saddle, and he dismounted beside her.
She began to walk towards the house, but he caught her hand and pulled her into his arms for a slow, lingering kiss.
This time, there was nothing restrained or hurried about it. His lips met hers with a hunger that stole her breath, yet with a tenderness that made her heart ache.
The world melted away—the cold, the snow, the trials of the past months. There was only the feel of his mouth on hers, the taste of him, the heat of his body against the chill of the morning.
Her arms crept up around his neck, pulling him closer, and he groaned low in his throat as his arms wrapped tightly around her in return, lifting her slightly off the ground.
Elizabeth’s stomach swooped in the most delightful way, and she felt as though she were flying. Her fingers curled into his thick hair, savoring the solidness, the reality of him.
When they finally broke apart, they were both breathing heavily, and her cheeks were pink from more than just the cold.
Darcy rested his forehead against hers, his voice rough. “That is the last time I shall kiss you as Miss Elizabeth Bennet.”
She gave a breathless laugh. “Then I hope you will not waste much time once I am Mrs. Darcy.”
He chuckled, a sound so warm and rich it sent a fresh wave of butterflies through her chest. “No, my love. I intend to make up for every moment we have lost.”
He pulled her close again, and for a few moments they simply stood there, hearts beating in rhythm, sharing the quiet wonder of all that lay ahead. Then, reluctantly, she pulled away. “It would not do to be late to my own wedding, else we shall have to wait until tomorrow. I had best go upstairs and prepare.”
Darcy mounted his horse and looked down at her with a tender expression. “I will see you at the church, then, Mrs. Darcy.”
“Not yet,” she teased. “A few hours more.”
He smiled and watched as she slipped inside through the kitchen entrance, snagging a muffin to eat on her way up to the stairs. Once there, she opened the door to the small bedchamber she shared with Jane. Her wedding gown hung from the wardrobe, the ivory silk glimmering faintly in the morning light.
On the bed, Jane stirred beneath a heavy quilt and blinked awake.
“We are getting married today,” she whispered, her face breaking into a radiant smile.
Elizabeth laughed and climbed onto the bed beside her sister, her whole body tingling with joy. “Yes, dearest Jane. We are.”
For a moment, they simply sat together in the soft morning light, two sisters on the cusp of a new life. Elizabeth let her head rest against Jane’s shoulder, both of them smiling like schoolgirls with a shared secret.
Below stairs, she could hear the faint sounds of bustle—footsteps hurrying across the flagstones, the clatter of pots, the hurried voices of servants preparing the breakfast and assembling trunks for the afternoon departure.
