"Stevens, it is good to see you again," Darcy said, greeting his butler with a smile. He nodded a curt, but not cold, greeting at the other household staff who had gathered to welcome their master, and led Elizabeth through the front entrance with anticipation.
"Well?" he asked, when she had made no immediate audible reaction.
"So this is Pemberley," Elizabeth whispered. She glanced across at him and he was pleased to see the light of excitement dancing in her eyes. "At last."
"At last."
Taking his arm, she nestled into his side and they began to walk comfortably together through the corridor that led to the rest of the house.
"Do you want to sit down? We might rest a while and leave the tour until later if you prefer?"
"Sit?" Lizzy was affronted. "My dear husband, I have been doing nothing but sitting for the past few days. No, show me the house, for it feels as if I have been eager to be here forever, and I cannot wait a moment longer before exploring!"
"Very well." Darcy smiled, pleased by his wife's enthusiasm for the home they would share. "I will just -" He turned behind them to where Wickham was walking with Anne. His old foe seemed somewhat awed to be back at Pemberley again, and there was such an expression of meekness upon his face that he looked suddenly a decade younger: a boy once more.
"Go on to the parlour, George," Darcy said, finding it easier to be polite to Wickham now that he was in his own home. The impulse surprised him, and he even ventured to extend a small smile. "I will have the servants send in some tea for you both, for it looks as if Anne, at least, is eager for some rest."
"Thank you, Darcy," Wickham's response was barely a whisper, and he turned his attention almost immediately back to Anne, who, Darcy noticed, leaned rather heavily on her husband's arm, as if she needed his strength to walk even the short distance to the sitting room. He followed their progress with his eyes until he felt the pressure of Elizabeth's hand on his arm.
"Where do you wish to show me first?" she asked, her eyes shining with interest.
"I know one room, above all others, that will draw your particular attention," Darcy said, a smile tugging at his lips. "Do you trust me to escort you there?"
Elizabeth frowned, nodding slowly.
"Good. Then close your eyes, for I wish it to be a surprise!"
Obediently, Lizzy's eyelids fluttered closed, and she moved with him, stumbling a little as she slid her feet along the smooth parquet floor.
"A few paces more…a little further…" Darcy muttered, guiding her past rooms that they would explore in time, to the one he had long held to as the first she must see upon their arrival at Pemberley. He had not been there himself for some time, but when he had married Elizabeth it had changed forever in his mind. It would be her room, from now on, and he gleefully imagined her delight upon seeing it. At last, they reached the door, a heavy rectangle of oak, and he let go of her arm just long enough to push it open. Reaching for her once more, he escorted her carefully over the threshold and into the room, turning her slightly so that she was positioned to best appreciate the warm afternoon light that entered through high windows.
"There. You may open your eyes, Mrs Darcy."
Her eyelids lifted, and she glanced around her, her smile of amusement becoming one of delight as she recognised the room's purpose.
"A library?" she breathed.
"Your library," Darcy said, with a smile.
Elizabeth lifted her eyes to his, confused.
"It belonged to my mother, although the whole household has profited from its contents." Darcy took a step nearer to the high bookshelves, running his fingers across a series of leather-bound volumes. "She dedicated much of her time to choosing what pieces found their way here, ensuring they were of value or entertainment." He winked. "She, like you, did not despair of novels, although she was always sure to temper their enjoyment with something rather more serious." He searched, momentarily, for a familiar book, pulling it from its place and handing it to Elizabeth. "I think even Mrs Fitzwilliam would approve of certain books finding their home here."
Elizabeth glanced down at the volume he handed her and laughed. She wrapped her arms around Fordyce's sermons and held the book close to her chest.
"Yes, Mary would be delighted," she said, with a smile. Lifting her eyes to the tall shelves her words, when they came, were little more than a whisper.
"I cannot believe such a place exists! Look at all these books!"
"You will doubtless have read half of them before summer arrives," Darcy said, delighted by his wife's pleasure at the gift. "And you must add to it however you see fit. I am afraid I have been somewhat lax in keeping up to date with more recent publications, although Georgiana occasionally requests a certain book be purchased." He shook his head. "She is no great reader, although she occasionally finds some pleasure in escaping into an imagined world. More often than not, her requests have been for music rather than books. I will confess that the stock of volumes here may be dreadfully dated."
"There is no such thing!" Elizabeth scoffed. "A good book is a good book regardless of its age." She paced the wall, running her eyes and then her hand over the collection of books, pausing now and then to ease one out, to open it and examine a page, smile and return it to its home. "Is this really ours?"
"It is yours, Mrs Darcy, as it belonged to my mother. I keep my own choice of volumes in my study, as was my father's habit. And so this, I relinquish to be entirely your domain, to do with and spend time in as you wish."
Elizabeth turned back to him, a warm smile lifting her features.
"It is too much!" she exclaimed.
"It is hardly enough!" Darcy reached for her. "For the wife who would traverse the country to assist me, and forever seeks to be my help and friend." They kissed. "Come, though, for our guests will wonder what on earth has become of us."
Elizabeth arched an eyebrow at his easy mention of the Wickhams as our guests, and Darcy himself was surprised at how natural the word had sounded on his lips. He smiled, ruefully.
"I ever could have imagined that I would be beginning my married life at Pemberley with George Wickham as my guest."
"Let us not dwell on how we imagined our lives might be," Elizabeth said, wrapping her arms around his. "For I could never have dreamed I would become the mistress of Pemberley, possessor of so fine a library as this, or wife to Fitzwilliam Darcy."
"No, I am quite sure the thought never dared to register with you!" he said, remembering how bitterly they had disliked each other at one point in their shared history. "How fortunate we are that people might change."
Elizabeth nodded, regarding him thoughtfully.
"Ah, here, I feel you are considering some pronouncement." He sighed, in mock-resignation. "Well, my dear wife, do not keep me in suspense. What would you say to me?"
"Nothing of consequence!" Lizzy laughed, swatting at him for his impertinence.
"Merely that it would be wise for both of us to recall your words going forwards. How fortunate we are that people might change. Does that extend to other people under your roof at present?"
Darcy smiled, wryly, but did not give an immediate answer.
"Do you wish to take a tour of the rest of the house now, or do you prefer to take some refreshments before moving on?"
Elizabeth held his gaze for a moment as if considering whether to press him further on his opinion of George Wickham's ability, or inability, to change, but mercifully let the matter rest. She tilted her head to one side, considering his proposition.
"I think I should like to see a little more of the house before we take tea. You have shown me the library, which I adore, but pray, which of the rooms is yours to spend time in as you choose? I wish to know where I might find you at any given hour of the day…"
Laughing good-naturedly, Darcy continued the enjoyable task of introducing his home to the woman who would share it with him. They canvassed the entire ground floor before, at last, finding their way back to the parlour to join their guests.
