Epilogue
The remains of the day presented a summer sky that was still a brilliant blue. Darcy stood by the window of the master's chambers, his face, neck and arms were wet from the warm water he used to wash. Using the cloth he held to wipe himself, he moved closer to the window. In the western sky a pale orange was beginning to assert itself, sunset was nigh.
From his vantage point, he heard—before he even saw—dogs running, barking happily, followed closely by childish laughter. Darcy grinned. Turning to Dawson, he motioned for the valet to hurry.
"I must keep my promise." He said with a smile.
His steward had left just a few minutes ago, it had been a long day for the Master of Pemberley, and Darcy could not wait to shed the role for the day and assume his other role, one he valued more than anything in the world—that of a family man.
"Mrs. Reynolds bid me to tell you, sir, that the dessert you requested will be added to this evening's supper."
Darcy nodded, smiling. "Supper shall be an exciting if not noisy affair, I daresay. Ice cream indeed."
"I have no doubt of it, sir."
Darcy did not miss the laughter in Dawson's eyes, though his otherwise straight face betrayed no emotion.
"You are laughing at me once again, Dawson." Darcy said with a chuckle.
"No sir, never that." The valet replied, his lips twitching.
"I already endure the same from the Colonel, it makes no difference for you to admit it, man."
Dawson coughed discreetly to cover, Darcy knew, a laugh. The servant said no more and soon he found his way hurrying out of Pemberley House to the part of the lake nearest the house.
Orange hues now covered a greater part of the horizon, he breathed deeply, the fatigue of the long day melting away under the immensity of the sky.
His long strides ate the ground. He could traverse these beloved grounds with his eyes closed. Indeed, he could see shadows of himself everywhere, as a lad walking towards his treehouse, as a young man coming back from his favorite fishing spots, as an adult spending a great deal of his free time in the stables. He could see other shadows accompanying his as well, his father's, his mother's, Georgiana's, the Colonel's, Mrs. Reynold's, and even Dawson's. In all those memories, he often felt a warmth, a happiness that he knew came from an earlier life well lived. And yet it was not until these past eight years that he had found contentment. That he found continuous happiness as well, was an understatement. He grinned to himself, certainly no one could have accused him of having a reserved demeanor these past eight years.
Nearing the lake, he saw, as he had from his window, two dogs running and playing noisily with two young boys. Darcy slowed his paced. His heart warmed with happiness and gratitude as it always did when he beheld his sons.
"Father!"
Before Darcy could move further, two boys and indeed, two dogs, raced to greet him, behind them, a short distance away, their governess, together with one of Pemberley's long-time footmen, Nibley, curtsied and bowed respectively to their master.
Catching both his sons in each of his arms, he lifted and swung them up gaining him more of the laughter that so pleased him. The dogs, both spaniels, ran around them barking excitedly at the arrival of their master.
"You made it!" James, the older of the two boys exclaimed.
"Did you doubt me? Had I not promised to come before sunset?" Darcy grinned at the six-year old.
"I did not, father!" Joined Bennet, being four years of age, he climbed easily up his father's shoulders. "You always keep your promises!"
"I knew he would be here too!" James told his brother.
Chuckling at his sons and ruffling the spaniels' ears with his free hand, Darcy walked on, Bennet sitting on his shoulders, James and the dogs walking beside him.
"And how fares your fort?"
"We are almost done." James beamed proudly. "We almost ran out of rope, but Nibley found more at the stable."
Wanting to contribute, Bennet tugged at his father's ear. "Nibley and Garrick helped us chop tree branches. Garrick made me carry two big branches!"
Darcy could easily imagine Garrick, his coachman for many a year encouraging Bennet in his manly pursuit.
"Two branches! Let me feel those muscles!"
After asking them about their day, the boys in turn asked about his. Darcy told them of his activities and the problems he encountered. He smiled fondly when they gave suggestions in solving the most pressing matter of the collapsed market bridge.
"That is a grand idea, James, but unfortunately I do not think old Mrs. Crawley will be too happy swinging from a rope to get to the market."
The boys giggled at the image their father presented.
When they neared the banks of the lake, he lifted his younger son down to the ground. Frowning, he looked around. The boys continued talking of how they were learning to skip stones on the lake, indeed picking up the discarded stones from the ground. Only half listening, Darcy cast his eyes about, searching as he always did for Elizabeth.
When he could not find her, he moved from the boys intending to ask the governess where her mistress was, when just at that moment, his wife appeared from the path that made a circuit of the lake. The smile on her face, and the babe sleeping in her arms had Darcy moving unconsciously towards them. Like a moth to a flame, he would always be powerless against those eyes, and he would have it no other way.
"That frown will not do you any good here, Mr. Darcy, how many times must I tell you?" Smiling, she tilted her head, showing him what she asked for.
Darcy smiled widely, he bowed.
"Mrs. Darcy." He drew nearer and met his lips to hers, lingering far longer than a public exchange should.
Breathless, Elizabeth beamed at him. "I have missed you today, William."
"And I you, my Elizabeth." Shifting he placed a soft kiss on his sleeping daughter's temple.
"She was fussy, I told nurse to go ahead and prepare her crib while I walked her a bit. She can certainly cry."
"A temper? I wonder from whom my little Isabella could have got it from?"
The face that Elizabeth made at Darcy had him laughing, and she shushing him in return.
"She is perfect, I would not have her any other way." Darcy said softly.
Eyes resting on her husband's face, Elizabeth's expression was deep. "She is perfect, William. And so are James and Bennet, and all the other children that we have yet to create. And you."
Darcy's fingers reached up and played with the tendrils of hair that framed her face. He smiled, thinking of more little Lizzies. "Yes, they shall all be perfect. Although I am not nearly even close to perfect, but you, my love make me feel so." He kissed her again, just as softly, just as lingeringly, and yet always different from the last.
They walked towards their sons, little Isabella, not even a year old, still asleep in her mother's arms. Bidding the boys to return to the house, he put an arm around each of his son's shoulders. They walked slowly, enjoying the last rays of the day.
Darcy looked down, his shadow, now that of a grown man, joined with those of his young sons. Moving closer still, Elizabeth's and little Isabella's blended with theirs, completely and inseparably cast by the setting summer sun.
Under the night sky, Darcy held Elizabeth close. Wanting her in his arms throughout the night, throughout their entire lives.
The moon was bright, its reflection caught on the calm surface of the lake. There was a slight chill in the night air. Darcy's lips moved across Elizabeth's, his hands touching her as only he could. She sighed, her breath mingling with his. The sounds of the night surrounded them, making them feel as if they were the last two people on earth.
Breaking apart, Elizabeth rested her head on Darcy's shoulder. She loved this time alone with him. In all their eight years of marriage, rarely, except when they were in Town or when it was winter—and even then they tried—did they miss their evening walk by the lake.
Of course, their walk was never entirely just that, as any couple deeply in love was wont to do, they took advantage of the solitude the park provided them at that time of night. Their favorite spot was the part where the lake met a stream. They had frequented that area so often that Darcy, on their first year of marriage, had a small gazebo built there.
Elizabeth fondly remembered how he had devised excuse upon excuse for them not to venture that way, ranging from the silly to the unbelievable. And she remembered how merely a fortnight after, he had led her back there blindfolded.
The gazebo itself, white and elegant, was at once dear to her, but the carvings on the sole bench was the flourishing gesture that caught her heart. How many times had she traced her fingers following the letters that Darcy had unknowingly carved unto her own heart.
I am found.
Elizabeth had thought at that time that her love for Darcy could not grow any stronger, and yet as each dawn broke into a new day, she found that her heart felt more full, her happiness more profound than the days before that.
Many hours had they spent there on the one bench that offered a stunning view of nature's hand.
Now, seated on Darcy's lap, Elizabeth traced the cleft on her husband's chin.
"You must be tired. It has been a rather long day for you I know, and yet you still insisted we take our walk."
"I would not miss the opportunity to kiss you in such ways." Putting his words into action, Elizabeth held on to him as he showed her.
After a while, she giggled. "You know that you are still entitled to such liberties when we are in our chambers, my love."
"Only in our chambers?"
The roguish grin he sent her had his wife giggling again. Then more seriously, she added.
"Anywhere, my love, so long as 'tis you and I."
"Then that shall be everywhere, for it shall always be you and I."
This time it was Elizabeth who claimed the kiss. As the night deepened, so did their whispered promises to each other.
"My Elizabeth." Darcy whispered, his mouth lingered on her temple. "How lost I was without you, floating around, waiting for something I did not know."
"And then I found you, hiding."
"And then you found me." Darcy traced her face.
Elizabeth closed her eyes on his caress, she saw him again as he was all those years ago; proud, arrogant and handsome. But even then she knew, that what she found was something she would forever keep.
"And then I found you." Elizabeth repeated, eyes captivating his, she smiled at Darcy. "I will always find you, my William." Hand on her heart, she continued. "And here I shall always keep you."
"I love you, my Elizabeth."
"I love you, my Fitzwilliam."
Elizabeth touched her forehead to his, they had a lifetime ahead of them, a lifetime to love, a lifetime to build. Hands on his cheeks, she kissed him again.
"I am found."
A/N:
That's it, it's finally done. Sniff. Thank you for sticking with me, it took me a little over a year to complete this story—a story that just popped out of nowhere and insisted on being written!
2020 was not easy for everyone, I know. And writing this story (in consequence reading your reviews) helped me a great deal in coping. That was why I wanted to write mostly fluff ;D I hope it brought you some small relief and fun as well.
What can I say, Darcy and Elizabeth are my favorite couple. And as long as they live in my imagination I will probably be writing about them. Thank you again, you are the best readers. Sending love to wherever you are!
More stories to come! (Well, I hope to complete the other unfinished two first, but after that I have some more lined up!) :)
P.S.
To those who read my other stories, Isabella, Nibley and Garrick were used in much the same roles as here. And James and Bennet will probably be used in future "family" stories as well. To avoid character confusion, I will probably stick to "my" canon, if that makes sense. ;D