Chapter 24
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
D arcy’s heart raced, his footsteps crunching in the snow as he paced across the church lawn. He flinched at every noise, hoping and fearing that it was the Bennets arriving at last. Sleep had eluded him once more, much like every restless night since his arrival nearly a fortnight ago in Hertfordshire. When Bingley had invited him to his wedding, the mere thought of being in Elizabeth’s presence was torturous. Yet the idea of refusing, of not seizing this chance haunted him. He would forever wonder ‘what if’ and live with regrets if he did not at least see her and try.
Despite his fatigue, excitement surged through him. Their conversation yesterday had altered his doubts. Today, he would see Elizabeth, not as a stranger or an adversary, but as a friend. The abruptness of this change, and the new opportunity it allowed, quite happily bewildered him.
Remorse had settled in swiftly after leaving Kent three years ago. Soon after their last conversation, in which he had broken her heart as well as his own, Darcy had realised the depth of his foolishness. Only the awful, life-altering news that had pulled him from his bed the previous night could have led him to such a terrible misstep with Elizabeth hours later. It was an error born from the deepest levels of grief and shock. A mistake that would plague him the rest of his life, wronging the only woman he had ever truly loved.
The anticipation of seeing her again always lingered in his thoughts. Sometimes he would wonder whether he had idealised her, perhaps as means to protect himself against the ache of living without her. Yet, the last few days had proved that reality far surpassed his memories. The idea of her paled in comparison to the truth of her, and his love for the woman he had always held dear was reaffirmed.
Love . It seemed such a shallow word to describe what he felt for Elizabeth. Love and admiration barely skimmed the surface of his profound sentiments. She was so much more than the woman he loved; she had been an extension of himself, the complement that made him whole. She was everything to him and he had spurned her. Giving up Elizabeth Bennet had been the hardest thing he had ever done but at the time, it seemed the only possible choice.
Efforts to erase her from his memory had long been abandoned. Once, driven only by the sheer need to produce an heir, Darcy had attempted to find another to replace her. But every Season he spent in town amongst eligible ladies only confirmed for him that none could compare. The graceful, beautiful statues of the ton had nothing on his living, breathing, vivacious Elizabeth.
It had been folly to even try; she was unforgettable, incomparable. His upbringing had fostered a sense of superiority, but she, a good woman, had been the impetus for a transformative shift in his character. She was his reckoning, the force that humbled him and taught him the failures of his ways. For that, he owed her everything.
How her words during their last conversation had haunted him! To hear that he was ‘a gentleman in appearances only’ and that he had disregarded morality, kindness and compassion! He had always believed himself to be an honourable man, and it was devastating to receive such censure from the woman he loved. It took him some time to realise how right she had been and to use her words to change his course, to care for others regardless of their position in society. He had endeavoured to become a generous, compassionate, and thoughtful landlord, brother, friend, and peer. How many lives were affected just by Elizabeth speaking truth to him where others had failed?
Thus, when Bingley had told him of his impending nuptials and requested that he be there, Darcy set aside his fears and hesitation because he owed his support to his friend, no matter how difficult his reunion with Elizabeth might be. He knew she would despise him for how he had treated her, and rightly so—she deserved far better than his callous behaviour. He swore to himself that he would do nothing to upset her during his stay. It was enough to see her again and hope for the long-awaited chance to make amends. But as they had reunited, he found himself in awe as she deftly dismantled him with her sharp, clever wit. He attempted to rekindle their past dynamic by engaging in banter, only to realise his mistake when he pushed her too far in arguments, unmasking the true depth of her anger.
Her apology, though unnecessary, stunned him. And then she had given him an olive branch, offering him her friendship. She was far more generous than he deserved, and he was anxious to take advantage of this new opportunity. Beginning a friendship with her was more than he could have hoped for, and yet only halfway to what he truly wanted. She had given him hope where there previously had not been an inkling, and he would be a fool to let a chance like this be squandered.
Bingley’s wedding was in mere days and afterwards, Darcy would have no choice but to leave Netherfield, to leave Elizabeth. There was not much time but he would make the most of it. He paced in front of Longbourn’s small church, awaiting her with no little anxiety. His tension was so great he felt as though he might jump at the slightest provocation.
He froze by the church steps as the Bennet family finally came into view on the lane. As they drew closer, his quickened breath made clouds in the cold winter air. Mr Bennet and Mrs Bennet led the group slowly. Behind them, the five sisters followed. Miss Bennet and Elizabeth walked together, their faces pink and energetic from the cold and their lively conversation, while the younger three trailed behind, chatting and laughing. Elizabeth’s merry laugh reached his ear and bewitched, he stood motionless, his eyes fixed on her.
As the family neared, Mr Bennet fell back to speak to Miss Lydia, leaving his wife to lead the way. When they reached the courtyard, Bingley stepped forwards to assist Mrs Bennet up the steps.
“Mr Bingley! How very gallant you are! Such a gentleman. Our Jane is a lucky woman. In fact, our whole family is so very lucky to have you.”
Bingley took her compliments in good stride, as he maintained a warm smile. “It is I who am the lucky one.”
Miss Bennet remained at the bottom of the steps, smiling fondly at the actions of her soon-to-be husband. Once Bingley had finished his duty with Mrs Bennet, he returned quickly to help his betrothed up the steps. Darcy bit back a smile seeing Bingley gazing adoringly at the lady; his focus on her was so intent that he barely acknowledged the rest of the Bennets before guiding her into the church.
Suddenly he heard Elizabeth’s voice.
“Good morning, Mr Darcy.”
He moved quickly to her side and instinctively extended his arm to assist her. As she placed her hand gently on his arm, he felt a familiar thrill race through him, eventually taking hold of his chest and stealing his breath away. All too soon though, the moment was over as she ascended the last step. She quickly withdrew her hand and gave him a small smile. As they stood together on the top step, their eyes met, and he allowed his gaze to linger longer than necessary. Her eyes were brightened from her walk, and her face was flushed from the cold. She was a vision. There had never been a woman so beautiful anywhere.
Although wishing with all his might that he could walk with her into the church, he refrained, fearing it might be too forward. Instead, he gave her a brief nod, his gaze reluctantly shifting to the bottom of the steps where Miss Mary Bennet stood. As he descended the stairs to escort her, he could still feel the warmth of where Elizabeth’s hand had rested on his arm, as if imprinted on him.
Once all the Bennets had entered the chapel, he followed with haste, looking for Elizabeth. He spotted her seated next to her elder sister and Bingley in the Bennet family pew. There was somehow still an open seat next to her and he began walking towards her, shuffling and nudging impatiently through the parishioners, all in high spirits wishing felicity towards the happy couple as it was the last service before their wedding. He met their greetings politely while wishing he could run towards the seat that was still vacant.
As he finally reached the pew, he found Mr Royce had emerged seemingly from nowhere and slipped in next to Elizabeth. Did that man ever leave her alone? Disappointed, Darcy clenched his jaw and slipped into the row behind her.
He watched her longingly throughout the service, admiring the attentive way she listened to the sermon. Some paid little attention and others listened passively, but she was different. It was as if she and the vicar were having a conversation. Her dark, beautiful eyes were filled with emotion as she silently took in his every word.
When the final hymn began, Darcy was surprised the service was almost over. He had been lost in his thoughts, staring at Elizabeth and thinking of her the entire time. Feeling a little embarrassed, he was determined to look away, lest the other church-goers notice. His resolve proved to be weak, however, as the hymn seemed to be a favourite of Elizabeth’s. She knew it well and though her voice was not trained, its warmth and emotion were captivating. When he had dwelt on memories of her in the past, he would frequently and fondly think of a time she had sung for their party in Kent. The reality again proved itself to be at the least every bit as beautiful as the memory.
Soon the parishioners made their way out of doors, some awaiting carriages to be brought round, while others talked amiably before walking home. Elizabeth had been standing with Miss Bennet, but slowly was being edged out by family and friends wishing to express their last congratulations towards her eldest sister. To his delight, Darcy soon found himself standing with her. He glanced towards the stairs and was relieved to see Mr Royce engaging in what appeared to be an illuminating conversation with a Meryton neighbour. Heartened he could speak to Elizabeth without his rival lingering about, he asked,
“Do you still plan to attend Netherfield for dinner tomorrow evening?”
“We are very much looking forward to it.”
They were silent again.
She broke the silence this time with her own question. “Did you enjoy the service?”
“Exceptionally. I quite enjoyed…Your, um…I could hear you sing. You sang beautifully.” He waved his hands out to the sides in a circular motion repeatedly to emphasise his point. “You have a wonderful voice.”
Feeling awkward and foolish, he flushed. Why was he using his hands so much? He had never been proficient talking to women. Elizabeth had been the exception, until now.
She glanced down, seeming discomfited by his compliment. “Thank you.”
Concerned he had overstepped, Darcy said, “I hope such praise does not embarrass you.”
“I am not embarrassed. If I seem so, it is only that, well…to be frank…I am unsure how to act with you. I am so accustomed to arguing with you that it is difficult to accept a compliment. My mind usually prepares for a heated exchange. I must admit this sudden shift is a little strange.”
He nodded in understanding. “You can say what you desire to say.”
She grinned but did not say anything.
“Come now, say it,” he teased. “Your frankness of character is one of my favourite things about you.”
Her smile grew and she looked at him with a playful expression. “Well, simply put, of course I sang with emotion. The hymn is about a subject dear to us all, our salvation.”
He grinned a larger smile than he typically allowed himself.
Mr Bennet had begun to gather up his ladies for the walk back to Longbourn. Miss Catherine suddenly appeared at Elizabeth’s side. “Lizzy, my gown does look very pretty on you, but please do not go off on one of your walks in it. I would rather it remain free of tears and mud—I wish to wear it for Jane’s wedding.”
Darcy thought he saw her blushing at her sister’s admonishment as she bid him farewell and fell in beside Miss Bennet to begin the walk back to Longbourn. He watched as the family walked away and felt satisfied. They had conquered their first conversation as friends, and she had teased him good-naturedly as she used to. It was the best he had felt in years.