Love Unfeigned (Timeless Love: Darcy and Lizzy variations)

24. Chapter 24

Chapter twenty-four

February 14, 1812 Hyde Park Darcy

D arcy arrived at the designated spot an hour before the appointed time. He had spent the morning arranging the tokens of his love within a wicker basket. He had the usual things—a lovely card on which Georgiana had painted a watercolor—with a poem written on the back—a bouquet, and a small book of love poems wrapped in a silk cloth upon which his sister had painstakingly embroidered birds and flowers.

His little sister had been a great help. He was forced to admit that her impetuous decision to begin a correspondence with Elizabeth had turned out better than he could have hoped. All his objections about her family, her lack of wealth and connections, no longer mattered. He loved her, and that was enough to overcome every obstacle thrown in their path.

Her letter, which had arrived yesterday evening, was tucked into his pocket. His hand traveled there, touching the edge of the folded missive and recalling the hope and joy her words had brought him. Georgiana had noted his look of relief and remarked upon it. Sheepishly, he told her of Bingley's call and what he had learned. She approved of his haste in dispelling the remnants of mistrust that may have sprung up, and only complained a little when he refused to let her read Elizabeth's letter.

It was deeply touching and most definitely a love letter. Her words touched his very soul, and he longed to take her in his arms and kiss her passionately. It is too bad we cannot do that in the park, he grumbled. Still, he planned to offer himself to her that day, to beg her to be his wife. If— when she accepted, he would give her the final gift nestled in the basket. Must think positively, he told himself. He dared not imagine her refusing his offer of marriage. Darcy knew she would have no qualms about turning away an eligible match—she had refused her cousin, after all.

Despite her words of reassurance, his heart still beat erratically. Doubts threatened to consume him, and he paced in front of the fountain, checking his watch every few minutes. Time seemed to slow to a stop, and finally he collapsed on the edge of the fountain, putting his head in his hands and running his fingers through his carefully arranged hair.

The park was blessedly empty, and no one was around to witness his display. Taking a few deep breaths, he stood up and pulled on the hem of his jacket. The basket sat next to the fountain, its presence reminding him of the future that awaited, and filling him with courage.

"You are early." Elizabeth's teasing voice made him jump, and he turned.

Breaking into a grin, he stepped forward. "As are you, I see." Her hands were buried in a muff, and her cheeks were pink from the chill in the air. "Elizabeth." He came to a stop directly in front of her, reaching up to touch her cheek with a gloved hand.

"Good afternoon, Mr. Darcy." Elizabeth's eyes twinkled merrily, and he could see her feelings radiating out of them.

"I love you," he blurted out. "Most ardently." He swallowed painfully as emotion choked his throat. What would she say in reply?

Elizabeth's smile broadened and her gaze softened. "I love you, too, Fitzwilliam Darcy," she said. One hand came out of her muff, and she reached up to brush a lock of hair off his forehead. His hat wobbled precariously at her actions, and she steadied it before withdrawing her hand. "Never have I loved anyone as I love you," she continued. "We are so similar. Both are proud, defiant, and fiercely independent. We are stubborn to a fault, wilful, and headstrong." Her hand came to rest on his arm. "But also forgiving, compassionate, and understanding. Neither of us likes admitting when we are wrong, but we each have done our fair share of grovelling and asking for forgiveness. You are my match in every way."

"Then I have not lost you?" he murmured, stepping closer.

"Never."

Hang propriety, he thought. The park was empty anyway. He bent down and captured her lips with his own. It was everything he imagined and more. Her hand came to rest on his chest, and his arms went around her. After a few blissful moments, he broke away. "Marry me?" he asked breathlessly.

She beamed. "Yes."

Darcy let out an uncharacteristic whoop and swung her around in a circle. Elizabeth laughed delightedly as he did so, and her chuckles continued as he set her upon her feet. "Come with me," he said, taking her hand and leading her back to the fountain. "I have gifts for you!"

Her face fell. "I brought nothing for you!" she cried. "I did not even consider it."

Darcy pulled her into another embrace. "You have given me the best gift," he murmured huskily. "I have your love, and you will be my wife. Nothing can compare."

He pulled away and reached for the basket. Elizabeth exclaimed delightedly over each thing, particularly the last. He opened a dark blue velvet jewelry case and displayed a lovely necklace. There was something set behind the glass, similar to a mourning necklace, but more elaborate. The pendant was set in gold. Intricate flowers with emerald petals formed an oval around a glass center. Beneath the glass appeared to be a scrap of paper. He had written 'Love, Fitzwilliam' in his best script and had a jeweler set it.

"It is perfect!" she cried. Elizabeth lifted the pendant and admired it.

"There is an inscription on the back." Darcy took it and turned it over. She read it aloud.

"' For you, my heart—love unfeigned, bound by truth and unspoken devotion.' Oh, Fitzwilliam!" She put it on, lightly touching the oval pendant and then taking his hand. "I shall treasure it always."

Heart full, he raised her hand to his lips and kissed it. "Forever and always, dearest Elizabeth."

Her tender expression grew curious. "Now that we are here and our future secured, I must know something—what prompted you to send the first letter?"

Darcy froze and then began to laugh. Tears rolled down his cheeks. "Oh, my love," he chortled. "Wait until I tell you…"