Page 112 of The Crown’s Gift

As the breakfast thinned, the Matlocks prepared to return to London the following morning, Anne with them. Colonel Fitzwilliam would rejoin his regiment; the Collinses would leave for Hunsford on Monday; and the Gardiners would remain for several days before taking their children home to Gracechurch Street. Georgiana and Mrs Annesley were to travel north with the newlyweds after the London stop.

They left Netherfield before dusk. The journey north would begin the next day from the Darcys' London house, but their first night as husband and wife would be spent at a small estate Darcy owned twenty miles away, free from relatives and wedding guests.

At the carriage, Lady Bennet held Elizabeth too long. Sir Thomas embraced her without speech. Jane, Mary, Kitty, and Lydia crowded close.

Darcy waited.

When Elizabeth finally entered the carriage, he sat beside her and took her hand.

Netherfield receded beyond the glass.

Tears slipped down Elizabeth's cheeks. Darcy did not tell her not to cry or promise the separation was small. He placed his arm around her and let grief travel beside joy.

"I love you," he said.

Elizabeth leaned against him. "Take me home."

CHAPTER TWENTY

Mrs Darcy of Pemberley

The small house at Ashbourne belonged to Darcy through his mother's family. It held twelve rooms instead of Pemberley's hundreds and no guest beyond a discreet married couple who kept it ready for occasional use.

Elizabeth entered as Mrs Darcy beneath a stone portico dusted with late snow.

The housekeeper curtsied. Darcy removed Elizabeth's cloak with hands that were steady until his fingers brushed the nape of her neck.

They dined alone.

For the first time in months, no parent, sister, aunt, servant carrying a message, or curious chaperone occupied the edge of their awareness. The privacy was liberating and suddenly formidable.

Darcy poured wine. Elizabeth noticed he nearly filled his own glass twice.

"You are nervous," she said.

"Terrified."

"Of me?"

"Of causing you pain. Of expecting too much. Of appearing to expect nothing and thereby insulting you differently."

Elizabeth reached across the table. "We need not perform perfection tonight."

He took her hand. "What do you wish?"

The question had become central to their love.

"To stop feeling as though fifty relations wait beyond the door. To be kissed by my husband. To learn the rest without pretending I am not nervous too."

Darcy raised her fingers to his lips. "That is exactly what I wish."

After dinner they entered a sitting room warmed by firelight. Elizabeth stood before the mantel, suddenly conscious of the ivory traveling gown, the pins in her hair, the ring on her hand.

Darcy came behind her. Their reflections met in the mirror.

"May I?" he asked, touching one pin.

She nodded.