Chapter 26
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
Elizabeth ran her fingers over the stone wall that encircled the rose garden.
All the flowers were dormant now, nothing more than tangles of stems, but frost-soaked cobwebs hung from them, catching the light like a chandelier in a ballroom.
She wished she could enjoy their beauty, but her mind was too distracted.
Why had Mr Darcy still not called upon her?
Sometimes, she wished he would, if for no other reason than that he might accept her apology and quit Hertfordshire—at least then she might be free to nurse her wounded heart in peace.
But when she thought of him leaving, a great sadness filled her.
When her godfather had asked her what she wanted, if she had the choice, her heart had betrayed her, for the image of Mr Darcy laughing as they descended that narrow path towards the chapel had burst forth into her mind.
A quiet footstep startled her. She turned, and as though he had heard her thoughts, Mr Darcy stood there, his face flushed and his eyes glittering with a strange light.
She curtseyed swiftly, hiding her warm cheeks, her heart pounding. “Good day, sir.”
“Good day, Miss Elizabeth.” Mr Darcy’s voice sounded strangely hoarse. “I came to ask after your health—and to speak to you about a private matter.”
She shivered, drawing her cloak closer to her, feeling suddenly vulnerable and exposed. “I am well. My dignity has been somewhat battered, but nothing that cannot be mended with time and patience, I am sure.”
“You do yourself a disservice.” He took a step towards her. “Your bravery was equal to any that I have seen before. Because of your swift actions, my sister’s letters have been retrieved, and Mr Wickham has been apprehended and awaits punishment. Do not diminish your achievements.”
“Achievements?” she echoed faintly. “I had no notion that my recklessness could be thought of so generously.” She took a deep breath.
There might not be another chance to speak to him privately and she would not be happy until she had atoned for her past mistakes.
“I must beg your forgiveness sir, for meddling in your affairs and for placing myself in a situation that caused you to suffer an injury on my behalf. It was a foolhardy decision of mine to meet with…” She could not bring herself to say his name.
“That man, but I must have you know that my conduct was borne only of a desire to be of assistance to you.” Her lip trembling, she held his gaze, not certain of how he might reply.
Mr Darcy shook his head. “If anyone should seek forgiveness, it is I. My heart nearly stopped when I saw you…” His voice died, the pain of the memory evidently too great.
“I humble myself before you and implore you to pardon my angry words. It was only through fear that I spoke to you so harshly—fear that you were hurt and the knowledge that I could have prevented it if I had told the world of that scoundrel’s perfidy. ”
Elizabeth tutted in gentle protest, but Mr Darcy continued, “I have been haunted by your face, so deathly pale, and I did nothing to alleviate your suffering. It was shame at my own conduct that kept me away, nothing more.”
“You judge yourself too harshly.” Elizabeth closed the space between them, scarcely able to believe what she was hearing. “You owe me no apology. There is nothing else that needs to be said.”
Mr Darcy took another step towards her, so close that his broad shoulders blocked the sun in the sky. “But there is something else I must say.” Elizabeth’s heart beat wildly. Every inch of her was consumed by his presence.
He took a breath and looked deep into her eyes.
“You must allow me to tell you how ardently I admire and love you. I ask for the great privilege of your hand in marriage.” His voice lowered, “Never would there be a more respected, more cherished woman. If your wishes are such that you cannot consent to be my wife, one word from you would silence me on the subject forever. But I want you to know that my heart will always be yours.”
His words were uttered with such a heartfelt tenderness, his expression one of such vulnerable doubt, that Elizabeth could not help the tears rolling down her cheeks. Utterly dumbfounded, she stammered, “You love me?”
He raised his hand to her face and brushed away a tear.
“How could I not?” Reverently, he whispered her name, “Elizabeth, my dearest Elizabeth. I could not imagine my life without you.” She had never seen him look so nervous.
“If you do not wish to give me your answer now, you must know that I would wait for you to be ready—and I would respect your decision, whatever you chose.”
A lightness blossomed in Elizabeth’s heart.
She placed her hand over his and squeezed it lightly, revelling in his touch.
His words, spoken to her in their first meeting in the woods, echoed in her mind and she murmured, “A man in love would wait forever.” Mr Darcy’s mouth curved into a smile of the purest joy and her heart beat so wildly it felt as though it would break from happiness.
Without a moment’s hesitation, she raised her lips to his.
She felt his body jolt as she kissed him, sensed the warm pressure of his hands as he brought her close.
Heat flowed through her; it was as though she were weightless and only his strength anchored her to the ground.
She did not know how long they stood together, but at last she broke away, her cheeks flushed at the sensation of their first embrace.
He was breathing heavily, a grin of boyish delight playing about his lips. “Am I to presume you have accepted my offer?”
She started to laugh and leant in to kiss him again.
Time and propriety had escaped Darcy as he sat, hands entwined with Elizabeth’s, on the cold iron bench on the far side of the rose garden.
They had spoken of so many things, and he had laughed more in the past half hour than he had done in the last ten years.
Elizabeth—his Elizabeth—was not five minutes into their engagement before she began to tease him in the most charming fashion.
It had been the greatest pleasure to kiss the smile from her face, and now that they sat next to each other in silence, he could not help but allow his mind to drift to all that was to come.
She caught his expression. “And what, may I ask, has caused that look of satisfaction?”
“I am engaged to be married to the handsomest woman of my acquaintance. Am I not supposed to appear happy?”
Elizabeth gave an embarrassed laugh at his compliment and squeezed his hand. “How very like you to give an answer that I cannot refute. I see now that I shall have to employ all my faculties if I am ever to obtain the final word in our marriage.”
Darcy refrained from answering that, as he could think of many ways she might duly silence him—instead replying with a grin. “I am sure you will succeed with practice.”
Elizabeth laughed and then paused, before saying softly, “I have just realised that I am not used to seeing you at ease.”
The tenderness in her manner caught him by surprise and he met her gaze. “Do you feel perhaps you do not know me?”
“No, I—” She hesitated. “I know everything of importance.”
“You are very sure of your opinions.” He said this lightly, but she had touched upon a fragile place inside him. “I can only say that I am honoured. There was a time when my behaviour towards you was not as it ought to have been.”
Elizabeth must have heard the hard edge to his voice, for she replied gently. “All that is in the past. I cannot think of our initial conversations without some degree of embarrassment.”
“There is nothing for you to reproach. My rudeness towards you was unforgivable.”
She tilted her head to one side and her gaze softened, “No more than my impertinence towards you.”
“Impertinence! Is that what you call it? I thought it was a sign of your partiality.”
She started to laugh again. “Oh dear. I see I am in for some trouble in our married life if you cannot discern one from the other.” She sobered and gave Darcy an imploring look.
“Are you completely sure you wish to marry me? I have no fortune, and precious few connexions. I love my family dearly, but I know they are not easy—or indeed sensible.”
If Darcy’s heart were not already hers, he would have certainly lost it in that moment. He thought of Mr Vanderbeck’s offer and how little it mattered to him. He took her hands in his, raising them to his lips. “I have never been more certain of anything in my life.”
A dimple appeared in her cheek, and she replied softly. “How fortunate I feel the same.”
He suddenly remembered Mr Vanderbeck’s message and removed it from his pocket, trying to explain how it came to be in his possession without revealing all that had passed between himself and Elizabeth’s godfather.
A lively glow danced in her eyes at his faltering account. “He asked me a great many questions also,” she said as she began to open the folds. “Do you know, I believe Papa has begun to suspect—” Her voice faded away and she stared at the paper, her face stricken.
“What is the matter?” Darcy reached for her, suddenly alarmed at what her godfather might have written.
She looked at him, her eyes still dazed.
“H-he has changed his will, and he is to leave me everything. The diamond mines. The estate in Cambridgeshire. A townhouse in London. It will all come to me upon his death.” The paper trembled in her hands.
“Oh, but this is too much! Why has he not told me of it himself?”
“He wrote another note during our meeting.” Darcy found his voice after some moments of incredulous silence, indicating to the second sheet. “Perhaps it contains a deeper explanation of his wishes?”
Her complexion pale, she read the words written upon it.
“What does it say?”
A tear rolled down her cheek and she gave him a trembling smile. “Fly, little bird.”
His forehead creased. “What does that mean?”
“He is giving me the power to choose my own path.” She shook her head slowly, the shock of her godfather’s gift still written plainly across her face.
Something caught in Darcy’s heart. Their fledgling understanding was new and fragile. What if she were to change her mind? He had never allowed his emotions to be so exposed to another.
Elizabeth cupped his face with her hands and said gently, “It gives me the power to marry you as an equal.”
“You are my equal in all ways that matter,” he protested. “You do not need Mr Vanderbeck’s money to persuade me of your worth.”
“And for your kind words, I thank you.” There was no mistaking the affection in her eyes as she smiled and kissed him softly. “We must return to the house. I wish to thank my godfather for his generosity and to share our joyous news.”
Elizabeth stood from the seat and held out her hand, her countenance suddenly mischievous. “And your first task as my betrothed will be to support me as I attempt to explain all this to my mother.”