Chapter 37
Three weeks had passed since her almost abduction, and slowly but surely Elizabeth had recovered her spirits. There was, after all, no reason why her mind should linger on such a horrible experience when her wedding was fast approaching, was there?
No, certainly not! And besides, a man like Mr Wickham, intent to ruin peoples lives only for his own gain, was not deserving of being thought of. Not that he would ever harm anybody ever again.
Elizabeth was fairly surprised at herself for not feeling in the slightest upset that Mr Wickham had been hanged just this morning at dawn. Moreover, not only was she not upset, she was relieved. Never again would he harm anybody. And when once in a while her mind did stray down that dark memory lane, there was always so much to prepare for her and Jane's wedding day, that no sooner had the thought appeared, she managed to push it aside.
With the wedding preparations, even Mrs Bennet had recovered surprisingly fast after the shock she had suffered, and her shrill voice was heard around the house all day long and well into the night, for she insisted that it was no small feat to plan and prepare such an elaborate double event. And for her two eldest daughters it was no small challenge to keep her from completely overdoing things.
Their wedding dresses had been ordered and repeatedly Mrs Bennet had sneaked into the milliner's shop to acquire a bit more lace here, and a couple of more silk flowers there to bring to their seamstress, for a plain dress would just not do, and so it was, that Jane's and Elizabeth's daily walks always included a visit with said dressmaker to keep her from attaching any of the excessive lace and flowers onto their deliberately simple and plain gowns.
Alone this was enough to have Elizabeth laugh. It was quite a funny game of cat and mouse of sorts.
Looking over to the little girl playing with her doll in one corner of the drawing room while her mother taught her pupils in the breakfast-parlour, she could not help smiling even wider. There was yet another person who would never be threatened again, at least not by George Wickham – little Isabella Younge. That her father, on Mr Darcy's suggestion, had allowed for him to make arrangements to bring the child here to live with her mother had shown her once more how considerate a man her betrothed was, and her father as well, she had to admit as much.
No, there really was no better man in the world. Not for her at any rate, and Jane was perfectly welcome to think the same of Mr Bingley.
"Miss Lizzy, can you help me with the bow please?" the girl approached her, holding out her doll, whose apron strings had come loose.
"But of course, Bella. Let me show you."
She was thus occupied when the door opened and the man who had occupied her thoughts only a moment before stepped in, his face breaking into a wide smile at seeing her together with the child.
"Mr Darcy!" Little Bella cried happily, leaving Elizabeth with the doll while she ran over to greet the tall man with a hug.
Just like her little nephew, the child had taken to Mr Darcy immediately. He would be such a wonderful father. One day – soon. Elizabeth had to swallow hard at the thought.
Soon, soon they would be man and wife and then... - She blushed slightly at the thought of them creating their children. Not that she had much of an idea how it was done, but she did know that they would have to see each other naked.
It was Darcy's voice that brought her back to safe grounds.
"Hm, I seem to get increasingly popular with the ladies," he grinned, though she could hear that there was an undertone of sadness in his voice.
"So it seems, Fitzwilliam," Lizzy laughed, while the girl looked slightly confused but then scampered back over to retrieve her doll.
"How are you, my dear?"
Elizabeth knew full well what he was referring to.
"I am well, Fitzwilliam. Relieved."
"Yes, me, too. It still feels unreal that all of this has finally come to an end, and it makes me sad to know that the young man my father held in such high esteem has ended in such a way, but it really is more for my father's sake that I am grieved. I, too, can say from my heart that I am relieved. Relieved that it is over and that we all have gotten out of it so well, considering."
Elizabeth nodded and getting up from her seat walked over to him to take his hands into hers. Ever since her rescue, she had wanted nothing more than to be held in his arms again and hold him in return, and it had been quite vexing that they had never been quite alone to do so after that fateful day.
And once more, it was not to be, it seemed.
"What time is it?" Bella queried all of a sudden, her doll all but forgotten, and the moment of intimacy was broken.
"Almost lunch, why?" Elizabeth answered slightly bewildered at the sudden urgency in Isabella's voice.
"Oh, I promised Mrs Hill to help her with the desert," the child answered brightly bobbing up and down on her feet.
Baffled both Darcy and Elizabeth looked at each other and then chuckled.
"Well, it is very important to have somebody lick clean the spoons, you are quite right," Mr Darcy replied dryly, watching as the girl scampered out of the room before he slowly pulled his bride closer.
The kiss was so very sweet, so comforting and right, that neither of them was aware that Mr Bennet stood right behind them with an almost exasperated expression.
"It really is time the wedding took place, after three weeks, all this romancing is quite hard to bear," he huffed, though with a glint in his eyes that betrayed his sombre mien, making his daughter and future son in law jump apart once again.
"Lizzy, can I have a word with you?" Lydia inquired reluctantly right after dinner as the gentlemen were yet to join them, her eyes cast down.
It had been the first night after Elizabeth's arrival that she had been allowed to join her family for the evening meal.
"Yes, of course. What is it?" Elizabeth asked surprised never having seen her sister this bashful and almost shy, realising that she had been unusually quiet at dinner as well.
Putting down her book she beckoned Lydia to sit next to her on the Ottoman she currently occupied while their mother spoke to Jane, Kitty sat bent over her embroidery, though it was really getting too dark, Mrs Younge read a story to her daughter in the opposite corner of the room and Mary wrote yet another extract.
"I wanted to tell you how sorry I am for putting you in such danger. Had I listened and done what I was supposed to do, nothing of this would have happened. I know that now. Please, Lizzy, can you forgive me?"
Taking her sister's hands into her own, Elizabeth replied: "Of course I can, Lydia. For that at any rate. For how could you have known what kind of man Mr Wickham really was? That he made use of this information in such a way, you could hardly have imagined."
"Yes, that may be true. But you do blame me for having behaved so horribly against you, Jane, Mrs Younge, and Mr Darcy? For never paying attention to propriety and always doing as I saw fit with no regard for the feeling of others?"
"Well...?" Elizabeth was quite at a loss as to what to say.
"You know, you would have every right to do so. In the three weeks locked up in my chamber, I had a lot of time to think. Oh, do not get me wrong, at first I was furious, but slowly but surely I could see how at fault I was, how spoilt and misbehaved. I had little to do but read – and the only books father has given me were Fordyce's sermons and the bible."
"So contemplation was unavoidable?" Elizabeth asked light-heartedly.
"Yes," Lydia sighed, then with only the slightest glint of mischief added: "And it was quite a new experience for me."
It was hard to keep a straight face at such a self-deprecating statement from Lydia of all people.
"Lydia, if you promise me to try and behave and not to oppose Mrs Younge all the time but instead work hard to improve your mind, I can assure you, that you are completely forgiven with all my heart."
"No, I will not make any promises of this kind, I will prove it. I will prove that I can be a lady and that I am not beyond saving. That not all I am thinking about is myself, officers and lace, and that I do actually care about others."
"That is even better."
"And I will start today. You were the first, and as soon as the gentlemen appear, I will beg Mr Darcy for forgiveness likewise – to Mrs Younge and father I have already spoken, or otherwise I would still be locked up, and you know, I actually start to like her. We did need a governess. – No, actually, we needed her, not any governess."
Glancing over at the young woman and her daughter Elizabeth nodded thoughtfully. When Mr Darcy had first told her that Mrs Younge was not to blame after all, for what had happened to his sister, she had been sceptical, but when he had explained at length, she could not help but agree. What mother would she have been had she not sought to protect her daughter? And after all, she had warned Mr Darcy – and if that was redemption enough for him, so it was for her.