Lizzy fairly flew up the stairs and in record time was pacing the foyer, waiting on Jane. 

“Darcy! For pity’s sake, man, please sit down!” Bingley laughingly said to his friend.

Darcy had been pacing as well, wearing a literal hole, Bingley feared, in the carpet before the window that faced the front drive. Darcy ignored his friend and went on about his business. “What could possibly be taking her… them… so long?” he mumbled to himself.

Mr. Bingley continued to be amazed at the change that had come over his dear friend since his engagement. Darcy would forever be intent and serious, uncomfortable with strangers and in social milieus, but now there was lightness to his bearing, a softening that was altogether fresh. The most obvious differences were his ever-present smile and ready laugh. It perhaps was not perfectly apt, but one could almost say he was giddy! As Bingley observed Darcy’s face, he had a sudden epiphany: it was peace that he saw there. A deep contentment that had previously not been an aspect of his mien.

Bingley smiled in happiness and amusement. “Really, Darcy, be patient. The carriage left here barely an hour ago.”

Darcy turned, a ready retort on his lips, but his attention was captured by movement outside. An expression that could only be described as unfettered joy diffused his face, and without a word, he dashed from the room. Bingley had no need to ask, and with a chuckle he followed.

Darcy took the steps two at a time and practically danced in impatience. The carriage had not completed its stop before he was at the door opening it with such force that Bingley winced, sure the hinges would shatter. Elizabeth was already rising, her face suffused with the identical expression worn by her betrothed. With nary a thought toward the appropriateness or propriety of his actions, Darcy encircled Elizabeth’s waist with his strong hands and lifted her clear of the carriage. Her toes barely brushed the ground before he crushed her in his arms and twirled her about, each of them laughing hysterically. With supreme restraint Darcy refrained from kissing her passionately right there in front of God and everyone. He compromised by cupping her face with both hands and whispering a heartfelt, “I love you, Elizabeth!”

“Why, Mr. Darcy,” Elizabeth breathlessly teased, “I do believe you missed me just a little.”

They made their way inside, Lizzy’s hand securely tucked into the crook of Darcy’s arm.

Darcy had been far too anxious to break his fast that morning, and suspecting that the ladies breakfast may have been interrupted, the gentlemen had instructed Cook to prepare a repast for when their fiancées arrived. In short order the happy quartet was seated at one end of the long table. Darcy had managed to steal a few brief kisses on the way in and yearned to be alone with Elizabeth, but for now was content simply to have her by his side.

At one point Elizabeth leaned close to Darcy and softly spoke into his ear, “William, I am elated that you are back! I missed you so. Nonetheless, it is requisite that I scold you for venturing out into the storm yesterday. You could have been injured, and then where would I be three days hence with no groom to wed me?”

He squeezed her hand under the table. “I am prostrate with guilt, my love, for causing you pain. Please forgive me?”

“Of course I forgive you,” she said with a laugh, “although I should not. I should be cruel and allow you to suffer as I suffered all day!” She removed her hand from his and affected an angry pout.

“You cut me to the quick, Miss Elizabeth! My torment at your disfavor is acute. I have no choice but to fall to your feet in abject humility and beg the indulgence of your forgiveness.” With that proclamation he precipitously scooted his chair back and began to drop to his knees.

Lizzy arrested his movement by hastily grabbing his arms. “Ridiculous man!” she laughed. “Return to your seat this second! I forgive you.” She proved her forgiveness by giving him a kiss. “I am still curious as to how you made it here at all and why you arrived so late. You appear hale enough so I must assume you were unharmed.”

“My intent was to ride Parsifal from Town,” he explained, “knowing I could traverse the distance quickly, the sooner to see your face, my love. The ominous clouds and the urging of Mrs. Smyth induced me to take the carriage. That decision, naturally, meant waiting longer to depart. I was hoping to beat the storm but, alas, I was still on the outskirts of London when the torrent began. The roads were muddied within minutes. My coachman persevered for quite some miles, but eventually we had to hole up at a pub in Mayfield.

“We were not the only travelers foolish enough to be caught in the storm, so the establishment was lively and offered a pleasant diversion for the afternoon. Surely not as pleasant as being with you, but, as I had no real option, I made the best of it. Finally I could stand the wait no longer and we pushed on. It was slow going, and foolhardy I expect, but in the end we arrived none the worse for wear except for being drenched and mud splattered.”

All throughout brunch, even with Darcy’s infectious delight, Elizabeth could not cease ruminating on how she was to proceed with veering a conversation toward the topic of her nightmare. She was deliriously happy to be with Mr. Darcy and, in light of his obvious pleasure to be with her, she found her mother’s accusations and her own apprehensions did not carry as much weight. Even so, the questions needed to be answered and the small knot of disquiet in her gut must be alleviated.

Upon the completion of the meal, when all were satisfied, Jane and Mr. Bingley announced that they were to take a walk about the grounds. Lizzy was game for this, thinking that it would afford her the privacy she needed. Darcy surprised her, though, by saying that he had something to show her in the library first. Bingley seemed bewildered but he did not comment.

Darcy kept the library door ajar, naturally, but guided Elizabeth to a far corner. He took her in his arms, kissed her waiting lips with restrained ardor and taking the time to rain several kisses along her neck. All too soon, though, he released her and sat her on a sofa, sitting close beside and taking her hands in his.

He peered into her eyes with an intensity she had come to recognize, and said, “Very well, Elizabeth. Tell me what is troubling you.”

She was momentarily struck dumb and then stammered, “What do you mean?”

“Do not play coy with me, beloved. I can feel when something is amiss in your heart. You have not been quite your lively self. Several opportunities to laugh at and tease me mercilessly passed you right by! That would never occur if all was well.” He tenderly stroked her cheek. “Please enlighten me to your distress. Allow me to comfort you.” He spoke softly and with tremendous love.

She knew this was the opportunity she had been waiting for, yet found herself unsure how to proceed. He waited patiently while she struggled within, never once letting go of her hands or ceasing his gentle caress or removing his eyes from her face.

“You are correct, William; I am troubled. We need to speak of a delicate subject. Or rather I need to speak of it. You must bear with me for this is exceedingly uncomfortable.” She tentatively met his eyes and saw only devotion there. She took a deep breath and launched into her tale. “You must promise me, William, that you will not interrupt. This is quite difficult for me and I cannot lose my nerve or train of thought. Do you promise?”

For the first time Darcy was beginning to feel alarm. He had imagined some wedding issue that she was concerned about, but now he perceived it was more serious. Still, his trust in her was absolute so he promised without hesitation.

She began by haltingly describing her anxieties about their wedding night, her maidenly qualms of the unknown as well as her fears of disappointing him. He relaxed as she spoke. He understood her completely on this subject because he harbored the same emotions, but he was utterly confident that their love would triumph beautifully. She told him about her conversation with Mrs. Gardiner, and he had to smile. He greatly respected Lizzy’s aunt; he found her a delightful woman of superior common sense.

Lizzy described her nightmare, which he thought rather humorous except for how she depicted his reactions and the memories of the past that were conjured up. He thought they had thoroughly discussed their horrible miscomprehensions and had agreed to pardon each other. Of course, dreams could not be controlled.