Can two imperfect people find a perfect life together?

ENCHANTED PEMBERLEY

By

LILY BERNARD

"Go away, Mr Darcy!" She pleaded between sobs. "Everything you told me was a lie and I have had enough! I will be gone in the morning, and you will never see me again."

"Elizabeth, if you ever cared for me at all, you must listen to me; to what I should have told you months ago. I wish to be your husband more than I can say, but what you want is more important. Pray look at me."

He tried again to turn her over and she yielded to his touch. He pulled her toward him and took her in his arms. When they looked into each other's eyes, an incandescence filled the room. His wife's face was radiant, "my love, why have I never before told you how beautiful you are?"

Can this really be happening? He called me 'my love' and said I am beautiful. Are all my dreams coming true? I fear I will awaken and everything I have been praying for will disappear. She still had tears in her eyes as she looked closely at her husband, "you are not scarred," she whispered as she gently stroked his face. Her heart was pounding as she touched the man she had loved for so long.

Her gesture was so tender and loving and his desire for his wife made it difficult for him to speak. Despite his fears of rejection, he caressed her face and was elated when she leaned into his hand. "Your cheek is perfect, and my leg did not pain me as I walked toward you. What has happened to us?" Their eyes widened with the realization it was the enchantment of the cottage that surrounded them.

"We are changed…physically – we no longer appear as we were."

He held her close and whispered, "I tried not to show you my love, but my feelings for you are too strong to deny. All I have wanted to do was tell you what was in my heart but I…I could not. I am ashamed to think of how badly I hurt you. For months I foolishly refused to acknowledge how perfect you are for me and how much I love you. You must forgive this ridiculous man you married because I will never let you go. I love you so deeply and ardently Elizabeth Darcy and I always will."

Prologue

1791

Longbourn, Hertfordshire

In the throes of labour, Francis Bennet silently prayed for a son. If she failed to birth a boy, Longbourn would be entailed away to a distant cousin and when her husband died she and her little daughter would be left without a home. The midwife guided her through the last minutes before the birth and soon declared, "it is another beautiful girl, Mrs Bennet."

"Another girl! Oh dear, what shall we do now? Is she as beautiful as my Jane? I was so hoping for a son; pray hold her up and let me see her." The midwife did as she was asked and Mrs Bennet cried out, "what is that on her face?"

"It is called a stork bite; I have seen it many times in my days of bringing babies into this world. Fear not, it will disappear over the next few weeks."

When months passed and there was no change in the mark on their daughter's face, a worried Mr and Mrs Bennet travelled to London with their baby. They prayed the finest specialists in England could tell them how this unsightly lesion could be removed. Five days later the disconsolate parents returned to Hertfordshire with the knowledge that their sweet child would live the rest of her life with a large red birthmark on her face.

1797

Derbyshire

George Darcy, master of Pemberley Park, sat in his study sharing a glass of brandy with an old acquaintance. He rang for his son and when the young man entered the room, he was introduced to Lord Peter Markham, who was described as a close friend of the family. "Son, Lord Markham and I have exciting news for you."

The younger Darcy did not recognize their guest and was unsure why his father wished him to join this meeting. "Yes father?"

"We have just signed a betrothal agreement between you and Lord Markham's daughter, Lady Beatrice. As an avid student of history, you will be interested to know she is distantly related on her mother's side to Catherine the Great. Despite what your aunt asserts, there has never been an understanding between you and Anne deBourgh to wed. Before her death, your dear mother implored me to do whatever was in my power to secure the future happiness of you and your sister. When the time comes, your marriage to Lady Beatrice will add her dowry of fifty thousand pounds to the family coffers and unite our estate with Holland Park, the Markham estate."

Fitzwilliam Darcy stood silently as he listened to his father's announcement while Lord Markham carefully observed the tall, handsome, well-mannered young man and believed him a good match for his young daughter. Lord Markham shook George Darcy's hand and turned to his son and did the same. "Eight years ago, my beloved wife died in childbirth. Beatrice is my only child and heir and already a beauty. When the time comes for you to marry, you will be the envy of every young man in the ton." What he did not say was that since she was old enough to talk, Beatrice envisioned herself marrying a duke or an earl. My daughter will have to learn to enjoy being mistress of one of the finest estates in England.

A tray a jewellery sat on the desk and George Darcy chose a piece and handed it to his friend. "This ruby ring was a favourite of my wife and Beatrice can wear it after her formal entrance into society."

"Excellent! Now that our business is concluded, I will take my leave; I must spend a few days at Holland Park before I leave for London. Gentleman," he nodded to the Darcys as he left the room.

Fitzwilliam was anxious about what he had just heard and waited until they were alone before he asked, "father, I know you are only thinking of my best interests but…why now? I am but ten and four and know nothing of these matters; Lady Beatrice is a child, and we may not like each other."

"Nonsense, son. Markham is a well-respected member of Parliament and a close friend and colleague of your Uncle Matlock. How pleased your mother would be with what happened today. You will be well settled and one day be master of an estate almost double the size of Pemberley Park. Arranged marriages amongst people of our social standing are common; it maintains the system of marrying within the upper ten thousand. This will remain a private matter until the time comes for your betrothal to be announced to the ton – many years in the future."

"Yes, father," young Darcy spoke quietly as he nodded his head in bewilderment. "Thank you for your efforts on behalf of my future."

"Do you remember that small house near the stables we often see as we ride around the estate? It is called Pembrook Cottage, and your mother and I spent the first days of our marriage there as did my parents and many generations of Darcys before us. It is much too soon to think about it now but someday you and Lady Beatrice will spend your wedding night there. The people in Lambton believe the cottage is enchanted and perhaps it is true; your mother and I were very happy there and every day until she was taken from us."

Fitzwilliam had no idea how this betrothal would influence his future, but he knew his father loved him and would always do what was best for the Darcy family and their estate. How can I be betrothed to someone I have never met? Who is she? Will I like her? Does she love to read and ride horses? Why now? He pondered these questions as he walked to the stables and took a long ride and thought about what he had just learned. Riding always helped to clear his mind and he returned in a much calmer state, deciding there was no need to think about marriage for many, many years.

While the Darcys and Lord Markham were talking, young George Wickham was eavesdropping from a servants' passage near the library. Years before he had inadvertently found a spot where he could remain undetected while listening to the conversations in the study. In appreciation of his father, Henry Wickham, the loyal, hardworking estate steward whom Mr Darcy relied on and trusted, the master of Pemberley Park was paying for his son George to be educated alongside his own son.

On this day, his father asked his son to bring a message to Mr Darcy and wait for a reply. He approached the doors of the study and heard voices within; he had been instructed not to interrupt and walked unnoticed to his listening post to hear their discussion. When Mr Darcy's visitor and son were gone, Wickham cracked open the study door and peeked into the room. His godfather shuffled some papers before he released a lever and swung a bookcase out of the way; a large safe was revealed. He placed the papers and a tray of jewellery inside, secured the safe and put the key in a small black box which he placed in the middle drawer of his desk. I will have to remember where that key is kept in case my life does not turn out as I hope it will.

Wickham knocked and made his presence known and handed Mr Darcy the note from his father. He sat down at his desk, wrote his reply, and handed the paper back to the young man. "How are you, George? Are you enjoying your time at Eton? You and Fitzwilliam always seem to be so busy during your summer holidays that I rarely see you."

"Yes sir, I cannot thank you enough for sending me to school with my best friend. There are so many enjoyable things to do at Pemberley Park and no matter where I am, I will always think of this as home."

"As you should my boy. Now run along and deliver my reply to your father."