Page 70 of Elizabeth Bennet and the Scottish Laird

Darcy moved to the window and confirmed her suspicion. A carriage was careening up the drive, and as it lurched to a halt, the door burst open before the footman could reach it. Mrs Bennet emerged with her bonnet askew and her shawl trailing behind her.

“Perhaps we ought to go out,” Elizabeth said, “before she succeeds in alarming the horses. I do wish to warn you about my mother’s nerves though, Mr Darcy.”

“I have had the honour,” Darcy said gravely. “Twice.”

Elizabeth laughed under her breath. “Then you are better prepared than I feared.”

They reached the front steps just as Mrs Bennet came rushing toward them. Jane descended from the carriage at a more dignified pace, with Hill bringing up the rear looking rather worn.

“Lizzy!” Mrs Bennet gasped, clutching her bosom. “Lizzy, how could you? Riding like a common dairymaid, arriving at a gentleman's residence without chaperone, your hair loose and your habit destroyed. Oh, my poor nerves! Whatever will the neighbours say? We shall never show our faces in Meryton again!”

Elizabeth caught Darcy's eye, and her lips pressed together against rising mirth.

“Mama,” Elizabeth managed through a smile, “do calm yourself.”

“Calm myself? When my daughter has ruined herself before the county?”

“Mrs Bennet.” Darcy stepped forward, and something in his bearing commanded silence. “I wonder if I might speak with you on a matter of importance.”

She blinked at him. “A word? Whatever about?”

“I should like to request your permission to pay my addresses to your daughter. To Miss Elizabeth. If she will have me, and if you give your blessing, I should very much like to make her my wife.”

Silence descended upon the company. Mrs Bennet's mouth opened and closed several times without producing sound, lending her an unfortunate resemblance to a carp.

“You wish to marry my Lizzy?” She looked between them, her expression cycling through shock and dawning comprehension. “My goodness. Two offers in one week. Two wealthy gentlemen seeking my daughters. Ten thousand a year, and Mistress of Pemberley, and...”

Her eyes rolled back, and she crumpled toward the gravel. Jane lunged to catch her with Bingley arriving a moment later to assist, and between them they prevented disaster whilst a resigned-looking Hill produced smelling salts from her reticule.

Elizabeth shook her head, though her smile remained. “I did warn you about those nerves, Mr Darcy.”

“So you did,” he said, smiling in response, for her joy proved infectious.

A loud peal of laughter escaped Elizabeth, bright and unrepentant, the sound of someone who had carried a heavy burden too long and felt it finally lifting.

Epilogue

Two years later

Elizabeth woke to the sound of her mother's voice carrying through the corridor, already offering unsolicited advice to a hapless housemaid about the proper arrangement of breakfast trays. She lay still for a moment beneath the counterpane, one hand resting upon the swell of her belly where the child had begun its morning exercises, small flutters against her palm like a bird testing its wings.

Two years married, and still the sound of her mother's voice at Pemberley could make her simultaneously smile and wince.

She turned her head on the pillow and found Darcy propped on one elbow, watching her with the particular expression he had worn for the past several months, equal parts wonder and barely concealed terror.

“The child is active this morning,” she said.

His hand joined hers atop the coverlet, warm against the cambric of her nightgown. “Does it pain you?”

“Not in the least. Though I fancy the babe shares your disposition. It seems determined to make its presence felt at the earliest possible hour.”

“My disposition?” He raised an eyebrow. “I rather thought the restlessness came from your side of the family.”

“Nonsense,” Elizabeth said primly, though her eyes sparkled with barely concealed mirth. “The Bennets are perfectly placid.”

From somewhere below, Mrs Bennet's voice rose to a pitch that set the crystal rattling on the dressing table. Elizabeth pressed her lips together, and Darcy's mouth twitched.

Elizabeth laughed and pushed herself upright, a manoeuvre that had grown considerably more complicated in recent weeks. Darcy was on his feet instantly, hovering at her elbow with such transparent anxiety that she was moved to pat his cheek.