“You spent the night at Pemberley?” he asked as he studied her face in the predawn morn.

“I did. Now, come, sit down. I thought we could sit on the bench just as we did in Town.”

“In Town?”

Elizabeth nodded at him. “Yes, we can sit exactly as we did there.”

Darcy narrowed his eyes at her, pondering her meaning. They sat down, and Darcy took her hand.

“Good,” Elizabeth said. “You remembered.”

Darcy’s brows rose. “Ah, yes. I took your hand.” He sat quietly for a moment and then asked, “Are we now to talk of apologies for my aunt’s behaviour and then Georgiana?”

Elizabeth shook her head. “I think not.”

Darcy pursed his lips. “Rosings?”

“Definitely not!” she laughed.

Darcy smiled. While it appeared he was trying to subdue the elation he felt, in case he was in error, Elizabeth knew that he had comprehended what her words and her joining him meant.

He grasped her hand tightly and looked at her. Their eyes remained fixed on each other. “Elizabeth,” he said softly. “I fear I cannot do all things exactly as we did in London!”

With wide eyes, Elizabeth looked up at him. “You cannot?” she asked, her heart suddenly lurching with alarm.

He cradled her hands in his. “Not precisely.” After a pause he added, “I neglected to do this.”

He slid off the bench and knelt before her on one knee. “Elizabeth…” He looked down to reach for her hands when he suddenly stopped and began to chuckle. “Elizabeth, what is this?” He pulled the hem of her dress up slightly to reveal her mud boots.

“You know precisely what they are! Now… what were you about to say?” she asked coyly.

Taking her hands, he lifted them up and kissed each one, a smile still displayed on his lips. “My dearest Elizabeth, I would be the most honoured man of all Derbyshire, of all England, of the entire world, if you would consent to be my wife. Will you marry me?”

Elizabeth grinned and nodded, leaning toward Darcy to kiss both of his hands. “Of course I shall! With all my heart I accept your offer… to watch the sunrises, to explore the paths around Pemberley…”

“In your mud boots,” Darcy interjected.

“Yes, in my mud boots… and to read Cowper’s poems and Shakespeare’s sonnets… with you.”

Darcy chuckled. “Yes, all those things.” Very softly, he added, gazing intently at her, “And more.”

Elizabeth’s heart stirred within.

Raising a single brow, he asked, “May I finally announce it to the whole world?”

Elizabeth nodded. “You certainly may, Fitzwilliam.”

At that moment, the top edge of the sun appeared, shining its light upon the couple. They both turned and watched as it made its slow ascent over the dark silhouette of the mountain, painting the sky in reds, oranges, and yellows.

Darcy walked over to the edge of the ridge looking down on Pemberley. He cupped his hands around his mouth and began to shout, “I AM GOING TO MARRY ELIZABETH BENNET!”

Elizabeth let out a hearty laugh. “Fitzwilliam Darcy! What will everyone think?”

He walked over and lifted her face to his. “I truly care not what anyone thinks!” He took her hand. “Come, we shall make sure everyone at Pemberley is awake and tell them the news. Then we shall go to Braedenthorn and inform everyone there!” Smiling, he added, “I wish the whole world to know!”

Chapter 29

The bells in the steeple at Pemberley church sent their chimes tolling across the countryside. Darcy paced back and forth in his chambers. He had been ready for more than an hour, but another hour still remained before he needed to set out for the church. For the third time in as many minutes, he stood in front of the full-length mirror, fingering his neckcloth and tugging at his coattails to straighten them.

His valet entered. “Is there anything further I can do for you, Mr. Darcy?”

Darcy shook his head. “Thank you, no.” He filled his lungs with a breath and then in a soft whisper said, “I just wish this was over with!”

“It shall be, sir. Very shortly.” Mr. Grant smoothed Darcy’s coat with his hand. “Just keep your eyes on Miss Bennet, sir. I guarantee everyone will have their eyes on her, as well.” With a smile, he added, “The groom is never as appealing as the bride.”

“This is most reassuring, Grant,” Darcy muttered.

The dependable valet reached up to Darcy’s neckcloth and tightened it in one place and straightened it in another. “May I say, sir, that I am quite certain she will make you a delightful wife!”

Darcy gave a tug on his coat. “Of that, I am most persuaded.” He then turned to Grant. “You may go. I should like some time to myself.”

“Yes, sir.”

Upon his valet’s departure, Darcy walked to the window and gazed out. Bracing his arms on the windowsill, he looked out over the front grounds of Pemberley, feeling a great surge of contentment. He let out an audible sigh and gave another tug on his coat.

Without bothering to knock, Colonel Fitzwilliam barged in. “Darcy!” he exclaimed. “Come join your family downstairs before the nuptials. You have spoken barely two words to my mother-in-law since we arrived. I have spent a great deal of energy since your engagement was announced making her see the good in it. And that,” the Colonel gave a tug to his cousin’s neckcloth, “after doing everything in my power to convince her to see the good in my marriage to Anne!”

“You are correct. I have neglected them far too long. I am just not inclined to participate in idle talk, as they will be of a mind to do.” Darcy paused as words escaped him as to the violence of his feelings. Softly, he said, “My heart is so full. I am happier than I can even believe myself to be.”

The Colonel smiled slyly. “Shall you be happy with such a mother-in-law as Mrs. Bennet?”

“Are you happy with yours?” Darcy truly wished to know.

Patrick laughed. “I have always been able to brush aside our aunt’s idiosyncrasies far better than you. However, from what I have seen of Mrs. Bennet’s behaviour these past few days, I would garner a suspicion that she, much like our aunt, is one who easily tries your patience.”

Darcy returned a satisfied look. “I shall fare quite admirably.”

“Hah!” Darcy’s cousin laughed. “Mrs. Bennet is conveniently ensconced four full counties away in Hertfordshire, whereas I must live at Rosings with mine.”

“Only when you are on leave. But I will give you credit in that regard, my good cousin. You are a much better man than I.” Darcy gave his cousin a slap on the back and turned to walk out.

* * *

A short while later Fitzwilliam Darcy stood with an immaculately dignified posture at the front of Pemberley church. His arms hung loosely at his side, his fingers alternately fisted and stretched open. Occasionally he slipped one hand into his coat pocket to take hold of the diamond and sapphire ring he would place on his beloved’s finger. It had once graced the finger of his mother, and soon it would be on the finger of his wife. Elizabeth had not yet seen the ring, as his wish was that she would set her eyes upon it for the first time when he placed it on her finger in the ceremony.

Darcy shifted from one foot to the other as he looked out at all the eyes presently upon him. He waited eagerly for the moment he would see Elizabeth walk toward him, knowing that at that moment, all would be well.

His cousin stood at his side, more relaxed and much more able to enjoy these moments before the wedding. Truth be told, he was rather enjoying the discomfiture Darcy was experiencing.

Darcy could do nothing more, in those torturous moments of waiting, but to allow his eyes to gaze out at the guests. They came to rest upon his cousin Anne and her mother. Now that Anne was married to Patrick, she seemed a different woman. Marriage to their cousin had been good for her and seemed to enliven and embolden her, almost producing within her a liveliness he had never seen.

Darcy peered over at his aunt, who sat proudly and rigidly at her daughter’s side. Darcy was truly grateful his cousin had persuaded her to accept both marriages. It had merely taken a veiled threat that while he and Anne would be making numerous journeys to Pemberley, she would not be accompanying them if she did not accept Elizabeth as Darcy’s wife.

Darcy glanced over at the Hamiltons and his cousin Peter. He had been indispensable when things had grown chaotic at Pemberley. When Darcy abruptly left, leaving the Willstones and Miss Matthews with unanswered questions and mild accusations, Hamilton stepped in to assist Miss Darcy in tactfully making excuses for her brother and gently addressing their concerns. He also unwittingly became the shoulder upon which Miss Matthews cried. By the time they departed Pemberley, Rosalyn was convinced that Hamilton himself had formed an ardent regard for her and she hoped to see him in Town next season.

Darcy’s fists tightened and held their grip when he noticed Wickham and Lydia. He could hardly ban him from the wedding of his sister-in-law. While they had not been invited to Pemberley in the days before the wedding, he had no choice but to allow him to come to the wedding breakfast there following the wedding. Wickham was given, however, a strict admonition that he was not to walk liberally about the place as he was once accustomed to doing.

His eyes drifted to Mrs. Bennet, and he wondered, with an honest measure of dread, how often she would expect to be a guest in their home. With an involuntary twitch of his mouth, he assured himself that Bingley would cheerfully and most graciously expect Mrs. Bennet to reside at Braedenthorn.