Chapter 5

Elizabeth had never slept so soundly as she did now, nestled securely in the arms of the man she had loved for four long years. The gentle rocking of the carriage lulled her into a deep, peaceful slumber, something she had not known in what felt like an eternity. When she woke, it was to find herself still wrapped in Darcy's embrace, his steady breathing indicating he had drifted off as well. She gazed up at his sleeping face, marvelling at the way she fit so perfectly against him. There was a sense of rightness, a feeling she had never known before. In this moment, all the pain and confusion of the past years seemed to fade into nothing.

Everything felt as it should be. The man she had never stopped loving was with her again, and they were on their way to Scotland—to marry, to start their life together. After all the heartache and frustration of the last years, she was finally getting her happy ending.

Four years ago, her heart had been shattered when Darcy had seemingly not come for her as promised. She remembered vividly the devastation she felt upon her return to Longbourn, her father's cold replies to her many requests that no letters had arrived from either Darcy, and that her beloved had never sought her out. It had crushed her, leaving her to believe that he had changed his mind, that the love they had shared had been fleeting for him.

She believed that once she left, he had simply forgotten her, but that did not explain why Georgiana had not written to her either. It was so unlike the man she had grown to know, for him to not do as he promised and for him to selfishly refuse his sister their friendship as well. For years, she wondered if she had done something wrong, though she regularly pulled out and read the letters he had written to her, wondering how he could so easily write words of love and then abandoning her.

But now, she knew the truth. He had come for her, just as he had said he would. Her father had lied—repeatedly, cruelly—and kept them apart. Elizabeth's heart clenched at the thought of the years they had lost, stolen by her father's deception. But as she lay there, cocooned in Darcy's warmth, she refused to dwell on the bitterness of the past. What mattered now was the future, and the future was bright.

Darcy stirred beneath her, his arms tightening slightly around her. Elizabeth smiled softly, brushing a light kiss on his chin. She could not imagine a more perfect way to wake than in his arms, knowing that their journey toward happiness had already begun.

Upon arriving at Longbourn, her family greeted her excitedly. They had not seen her in nearly three months and she had been missed, particularly by her father who had all manner of estate matters waiting for her. Mrs. Gardiner had the letter from Mr. Darcy to give to Mr. Bennet, though she waited until the following morning to give it to him. She spent half an hour in his bookroom telling him all she had observed about the gentleman and his earnest desire to marry Elizabeth, even his offering to wait until she was a more acceptable age for marriage. After explaining that the letter was meant to serve as an introduction before making his request to marry Elizabeth, Bennet nodded and sent her away.

Before taking her leave that morning, Mrs. Gardiner told her niece that Mr. Bennet had seemed unhappy with this development. Elizabeth thanked her aunt for her assistance, particularly taking her to Derbyshire in the first place, before seeing her out to her carriage and on her way.

After her aunt's departure, Elizabeth sought out her father to express her desire to marry Mr. Darcy. She spoke to him passionately, describing Darcy's goodness and the depth of her love for him, hoping to sway her father's heart. Yet Mr. Bennet remained unmoved. He told her flatly that if Darcy appeared at Longbourn, he might consider granting his approval. However, he forbade her from writing to Darcy, or even to his sister, until Darcy made an appearance to request his permission in person. Though Elizabeth was disheartened by his decree, she reluctantly complied, unwilling to upset her father when she was so certain Darcy would arrive soon.

As the expected time for Darcy's arrival came and went, Elizabeth grew anxious. She finally attempted to send a letter through her aunt and uncle Gardiner, but no reply came. Days turned into weeks, and still, there was no word from Pemberley. Likewise, no letters arrived from London. Elizabeth, desperate for answers, wrote frequently to her aunt and uncle, but her letters were met with silence.

Mr. Bennet seemed to take pleasure in her distress. He often reminded her, with cruel satisfaction, that he had been right all along: Darcy, the wealthy gentleman, had merely toyed with her affections. "I told you, Lizzy," he would say, "such wealthy men do not take country girls seriously. He would never have married you"

Twice, Elizabeth tried to post letters from Meryton during her walks into town, hoping against hope that Darcy or the Gardiners might respond. But one of her sisters informed Mr. Bennet of her attempts, and he was furious. He forbade her from taking any further walks alone, restricting her movements for weeks. Elizabeth could not comprehend his anger, but she obeyed, fearful of provoking him further.

Once, in desperation, she asked her Uncle Phillips to send a letter to the Gardiners on her behalf. He declined, offering no explanation. When Elizabeth confronted her father, he scolded her sharply for her persistence. He told her that he had cut off contact with the Gardiners and forbade any further communication with them. His control over her correspondence left her isolated and confused.

As winter descended, so did a deep and persistent melancholy over Elizabeth, settling in her chest like a weight she could not shake. The cold days stretched endlessly, each one a reminder of her isolation and the emptiness Darcy's absence had left in her heart. The festive gatherings and laughter that once brought her joy now felt hollow, and her smiles rarely reached her eyes. Her family, ever oblivious to her internal struggle, carried on, and only Jane seemed to notice the subtle shift in her spirit. Since her father had forbidden her to speak of Darcy, she had not even mentioned it to Jane, and the longer the heartache lasted, the more difficult it came to speak of the matter.

Elizabeth had hoped the melancholy would lift with the seasons, but as winter gave way to spring and then to summer, her sorrow lingered, becoming an almost constant companion. Even years later, the ache remained, shadowing her days, extending nearly to her twentieth birthday. Each passing milestone served as a painful reminder of the future she had once envisioned—a life with William, filled with love, companionship, and the shared joys of a marriage she had so deeply desired.

Likewise, she missed her time in London with the Gardiners. The freedom she had felt there, the affection she had shared with them, and the hope that had once bloomed within her during those visits seemed like distant memories now. Her father's cold refusal to allow any contact with them only deepened her isolation. Though she never voiced it aloud, she missed the sense of belonging she had felt with them, and she longed for the wisdom and support her aunt could have offered as she dealt with her loss.

But it was the absence of Darcy that cut the deepest. The man she had given her heart to, the man who had promised to come for her, had seemingly vanished without a trace. She replayed the memories of their time together over and over in her mind, wondering what had gone wrong. Had he changed his mind? Had she misunderstood his intentions? These questions plagued her, and though her father's cruel taunts stung, she could not bring herself to believe that Darcy had simply been toying with her.

As the years passed and no explanation came, Elizabeth realised she could not live in this constant state of longing. It pained her deeply, but she came to a quiet resolution: it was time to move on, or at least try. She knew, without a doubt, that she would never marry another. Her heart had been given once and could not be given again. William had claimed it all those years ago, and even in his absence, no other man could take his place.

But Elizabeth also knew that she could not let herself wither away in perpetual sorrow. She was still young, with a mind and spirit too lively to be consumed entirely by grief. Though the life she had dreamed of seemed lost to her, she resolved to reclaim whatever small measure of happiness she could. Perhaps that meant finding joy in her family's company, in long walks through the countryside, in her beloved books, or in simple, quiet moments of peace.

It was not the future she had once envisioned, but it was the future she had now. And even if she could never be truly whole again without William, Elizabeth vowed to at least live the life that remained to her with as much grace and courage as she could muster.

The autumn after her twentieth birthday, the news came that a gentleman named Mr. Bingley had taken the lease of Netherfield. Elizabeth hoped the gentleman would fall madly in love with Jane, thereby giving the family some relief from the worry about the entailment. Her mother had grown worse as time passed, and with a wealthy gentleman coming to town, her excitement was nearly at a fever pitch.

She arrived at the assembly happy for Jane. Never could she have dreamt that less than twenty-four hours later, she would be in a carriage on the way to marry the man she had loved for four years.

The morning after the assembly, Jane allowed her sister the time she needed to recover from what ever had plagued her the night before. She descended the stairs shortly before noon and proceeded with her day as usual. Mrs. Hill informed her that Elizabeth had come in the previous evening and gone straight to her room, requesting some laudanum for a headache before going to bed. When the family gathered in the dining room to break their fasts, Jane was surprised Elizabeth was not there, though she waited to check on her sister until later.

Therefore, it was afternoon when Jane finally went to Elizabeth's room to check on her. She was surprised to find her sister not in the room and the bed apparently unslept in. Not only that, but her dress from the night before was laying across the bed and it appeared that a few things had been removed from the closet in haste. Upon looking further, Jane found two letters, one addressed to her and another to her father. Jane sat down on Elizabeth's bed and read hers.

Jane, I do not know if you recall four years ago, when I visited Derbyshire. I know you noticed that not long after that trip, I began to suffer from periods of melancholy. Our father forbid me from telling you that a man proposed marriage to me while I was there and promised to come for me to ask for my hand. However, I was heartbroken when he never came and I believed he had deserted me.

Last night, the gentleman showed up at the assembly with Mr. Bingley. The man from all those years ago is Mr. Darcy. After speaking, we realised that Mr. Bennet deliberately kept us apart. He informed Mr. Darcy that I was married, and he told me Mr. Darcy never came. But he did, twice, and both times Mr. Bennet lied to us both. Since neither of us wants to lose any more time, we have decided to simply head to Scotland, so we can marry over the anvil. Once we are married, Mr. Bennet can no longer keep us apart. I am sad to take such a drastic step, but I will not allow Mr. Bennet to do this again. Not knowing his motivation behind these lies, we are choosing to face life together and not wait any longer. Keep this a secret as long as you can, I beg you. Before you say anything to Mama, hand Mr. Bennet the letter addressed to him. I doubt he will stir himself to chase us, but at this point, I have no idea what that man might do.

I love William, Jane. I have loved him for years. I know you have sensed my melancholy at being kept apart from him; I will bear it no longer.

Love,

Elizabeth soon-to-be-Darcy.

This letter astonished Jane. She remembered Elizabeth's despondency in the months after returning from the north that summer, but knew their father had forbidden Elizabeth to speak of it. Her sister had pretended cheer, though Jane knew something was wrong. It had lasted for years, and it was only a few months ago that Elizabeth finally seemed to come out of whatever melancholy that had lingered all this time.

Therefore, it came as a surprise to learn that Elizabeth, her usually sensible sister, intended to fly for the border with a man she claimed to have fallen in love with four years ago. It was also odd that she referred to their father as Mr. Bennet throughout the letter, and given Elizabeth's rather scathing tone toward him, she wondered what exactly had taken place.

Jane was not the only one surprised by a letter that day. The rider Darcy sent south left a letter at Netherfield for Bingley, making excuses for his absence, before continuing on to London. After leaving a letter with Darcy's solicitor arranging for the marriage settlement, he proceeded to Gracechurch Street with a letter addressed to Mrs. Gardiner.

My dear Aunt,

For years, I have wondered what happened and why you no longer wrote to us. My father attempted to explain it, but his explanation never made sense. However, I trusted him, since I believed he loved me and would do what was best for me. When Mr. Darcy never came for me, I believed that what passed in Derbyshire was all in my imagination or that perhaps my father had learned something truly terrible about him.

However, last night I learned the truth. Mr. Bennet has deliberately separated me from my love and, I believe, from your family. I cannot understand his reasoning for either. Mr. Darcy, William, did come for me. He came to Meryton twice and was told the first time that I was engaged and the second time that I was married. Both were lies, at least as far as I know. If Mr. Bennet engaged me to someone, he has certainly never spoken to me of it, nor would I have willingly surrendered to his plans. He could not have forced me to marry, and since that summer in Derbyshire, I have been determined that if I could not marry the man I loved, I would not marry at all. Had he forced the issue, I would have found some way to make it to you in London, regardless of the lack of contact.

Last night, at the assembly in Meryton, William appeared. He came hoping to see me again, having been told by Mr. Bennet that I had married three years ago, not long after my seventeenth birthday. It was obviously a lie, and I wonder if he told you the same. I do not know what he said or did that made you stop contacting us, or if he did to you what we believe he did with Mr. Darcy, simply intercept the letters between us to give each of us the impression that we had been forgotten. I cannot understand such meanness as Mr. Bennet has displayed over the last four years.

Regardless of what he did, when William and I met again last night we determined that we would not let Mr. Bennet or anyone else to separate us ever again. I snuck into Longbourn, packed a few things, and now we are headed toward Scotland to marry. Neither of us care what scandal might ensue as a result of our decision. For four years, my father's machinations have kept us apart, but by absconding into the night, we are able to be together again. I have loved him for four years and could never imagine loving another. He feels the same.

After we wed, we will go to Pemberley for a time. We will likely travel to London for a part of the season in the spring. William hopes that his aunt and uncle will support his decision, but if they do not, we do not care. These last four years have been painful for us both, and as long as we have the other, no one else matters. Perhaps it is selfish, but we have a chance at happiness and neither of us can stand to not take it.

I hope you will be happy for us. Please write to me, Aunt. I have missed you terribly these last years, almost as much as I have missed my William. I hope when we return to London you will agree to see me and will ignore whatever scandal might arise due to our elopement.

Your devoted niece,

Elizabeth

When she finished reading, Mrs. Gardiner raised her hand to her mouth. For the last four years she had never understood what caused the Bennets to cease all contact, and this had saddened both Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner. They loved their nieces, particularly the eldest two, and could not understand what had caused the break.

Likewise, they had been amazed upon receiving letters from both their brothers Bennet and Phillips announcing Elizabeth's engagement and subsequent marriage. The letters never stated whom she wed, though Gardiner had attempted to find out, but could discover nothing. It was apparent, they could not find the information because the marriage had never taken place. Elizabeth had not wed and while it was possible Bennet could have arranged a marriage for his daughter, it had not yet been solemnised.

Mrs. Gardiner laughed to discover that all Bennet's lies had been for nought. No matter what he had planned, and completely by chance, it had all been overturned by Elizabeth's hasty action in deciding to elope with the man she had wished to marry all those years ago.

There was a small part of her that wished she could be at Longbourn when her brother and sister learned what Elizabeth had done. Mrs. Bennet would be pleased to have a daughter married, regardless of how or why, and would be ecstatic when she learned who Elizabeth married, particularly upon learning his income. However, since this action overset all of Mr. Bennet's plans, he would be livid. She briefly pondered the impact of Fanny's enthusiasm about her daughter's marriage to Thomas' inevitable anger when he learned.