Without Undue Pride

Chapter 22

CHAPTER 22

Late December was a time when one gathered with friends and neighbours. One last ball before people went to town for the season. A visit to close friends before the weather grew too inconvenient for frequent calls. A final evening party before it was too dark to justify driving over certain country roads. Darcy found he rather enjoyed the bustle of activity compared to the retired way he had passed the rest of 1811.

Not that he did not find some people or their way of passing an evening tiresome. But he made a better effort than he would have made a year ago. He had a little more anxiety to please than he had ever felt before he improved his behaviour. Fitzwilliam, he hoped, would raise a glass to his efforts, if he were still here.

Society was also an excellent distraction from dwelling on romantic wishes that could not be too soon forgotten.

It was rather late when he returned to Pemberley after an evening party. Darcy had removed his cloak and hat and entered the hall, eager to warm up and go to bed, when he saw Mrs Reynolds. He sighed and then affected a pleasant expression.

“Whenever I return and you meet me in the hall with that look on your face, I must brace myself for unpleasant news. ”

The tightness in his housekeeper’s eyes eased, and she smiled. “Hopefully not unpleasant since I allowed her to stay. Mrs Fitzwilliam arrived late this afternoon.”

“Mrs Fitzwilliam?” he repeated in a tone of surprise. He hoped he hid all emotion from his voice. He had wanted more time to prepare to see Elizabeth. “I did not expect her for another ten days.”

“I dared not imply she was unwelcome since Miss Darcy invited her.”

“Of course not.” Why did she come early? Truthfully, her behaviour vexed him. Why did she petition Georgiana to come after she rebuffed him so firmly after he recovered her son from Milton?

As he reflected, Mrs Reynolds cleared her throat, drawing back his attention. “She dined with your sister and Mrs Annesley, and I gave her the rooms she had when she last stayed. And we opened the nursery. I did not think you would object.”

This was said in the tone of a question. “I hope the maids were not oppressed by dust and debris,” he said, smiling.

She looked affronted at the idea that her maids would resent any task she assigned them. “It had to be done before they arrived, in any event.” Mrs Reynolds smiled softly. “It has been a long time since there was a baby at Pemberley.”

As he dismissed her and walked up the stairs, he felt torn between wanting to see Elizabeth and wanting to avoid her. It was best to greet her now, because then he had the excuse of it being late and needing to go to sleep. He was too astonished at her voluntarily seeking him out for anything more tonight.

He went to the parlour she had used in the summer, knocked, and was bid to enter. “I thought I would find you here,” he said, entering cautiously and staying near the door.

“I like the room, although I have less need of footstools and frequent snacks now,” she said, smiling, her cheeks a little flushed. “I know I have arrived rather, well, rather unexpectedly.”

“I told you that you and Edward were always welcome at Pemberley.” He held back the question of why she had bothered to come, given her vehement refusal two weeks ago .

She smiled her gratitude, but did not explain why she was here. Darcy shifted his feet. He could expect nothing more from her. She did not need to have a change of heart toward him to come to Pemberley.

“I have had a busy day and a late evening?—”

“Will you not sit for a moment?”

He held back a sigh and sat where he always had. Elizabeth looked uneasy, so why prolong their private meeting?

After a stretch of silence, he asked, “How is your new home?” His cousin would have thought him exceedingly dull, but at least he had said something rather than be grave and quiet.

“The house itself is, well, it is small, and it needs improvements, but it is comfortable.”

“No doubt its size is ideal for your family. And how do you find Leicester?”

“It will take time to make friends there, and I am not accustomed to living in a city. I am more familiar with country life. I am afraid that the picture I had for my future is…is not the same as where I now find myself.”

Her gaze was more frequently on the ground than it was on his face. That hardly spoke to a desire for anything in their relationship to change. He had no reason to hope she changed her mind about marriage just because she accepted a Christmas invitation.

“I think you can do anything,” he said, believing every word, “and if you choose to make Leicester your home, you will do well there because you will not allow yourself anything less.”

She laughed a little. “I am a determined person.” She then raised her eyes to his. “I could never have afforded that home with only my pension, but now I have over two hundred a year. A widow and a child could live well almost anywhere on that income.” She looked down at her hands, and he noticed she was nervously twisting her fingers. “I can now afford my son’s education, a decent home, reserves for the future. Tea and candles need not be rationed. I will never be deprived like I was in Spain. ”

She blew out a breath. After a lengthy silence, she said in a rush, “I am fortunate to have that money, so I must thank you for it.”

He had to show no reaction at all. “Thank your husband for saving that money while he lived and leaving it to you alone after he was dead.”

Elizabeth shook her head. “He invested recklessly and lost it all. That bank failed, and our money was gone. You restored it to me and made me believe it was his. I owe my present and future security to you alone.”

He wished that was because she trusted him enough to tie her life to his, not because he invested money for her to live off of.

He rose to pace, a nervous energy in his chest making it unable for him to sit still. “Did Miss Lucas confess I discovered her in Leicester?”

Elizabeth shook her head. “She made a few provoking comments, but I did not realise what she meant until much later.” She gave an embarrassed laugh. “If only having a young infant and little sleep could fully excuse my lack of discernment. I never suspected your involvement until I thought how improbable it all was.”

“I never wanted you to know,” he murmured.

“I owe you everything.”

“You owe me nothing,” he said roughly. “I could tell you I did it because of a duty to my cousin’s widow, or guilt over how my family treated you, but I won’t deny the main inducement that led me on was to make you happy.”

“I am grateful,” she said, choking her words as tears formed in her eyes. “But Darcy, it was five thousand pounds. Why? So much money for my happiness?”

“And the freedom—the security—that you so desperately wanted after the suffering you endured. After being unable to rely on anyone but yourself.”

She looked much too embarrassed to say a word.

“You have the name of the attorney who arranged the matters,” he went on, hoping to stay silent on this subject forever. “I settled the money on you for your natural life and then to Edward.” He could emphasise that it was free from the control of a future husband, but that would only hint at his unreturned sentiments and wishes. “We need not discuss it again.”

She nodded, avoiding his gaze. Did she come because she realised being independent did not mean being friendless at Christmas? Or because she changed her mind about marriage? Did she want a renewal of his love after all?

Darcy observed her carefully. She had such an expressive face, and eyes that communicated intelligence and humour. Now, her countenance lacked all the confidence she typically had.

Presuming anything about her feelings for him was foolish. And selfish.

“Why did you change your mind and come to Pemberley?” he asked, sitting near to her again. “To thank me in person? Because, I assure you, I wish you had never learnt of it. I do not intend on speaking of it again, and I do not want you to thank me.”

“No, I was resolved to come before I realised what you must have done.” She looked excessively nervous. “I was stubborn to refuse your hospitality.”

He shrugged, about to stand and leave. “You wanted to be alone with your child after what happened with Milton.”

“No,” she cried. “I mean, of course I did, but…” She exhaled loudly and said in a rush, “Being independent is not enough to make me happy, Darcy.”

A flicker of hope flared in his chest. A tiny ember, not even bright enough to be called a flame. Still, it was not enough to remove all of his doubts. But maybe she was more inclined to hear his reassurances than she had been before.

“There are vicious and ungovernable men who use women with cruelty and indignity, and with impunity,” he said. “Your husband was not such a man, and men of sense abhor the customs that treat women as less valuable than a man. Any husband you had the sense to choose would be more generous and more favourable to you than is typical for our sex.”

He gave her an emphatic look, but she was incapable of meeting his eye. But he could tell she was listening. He smiled to himself. Not that she saw, as she was still staring at the ground. She would always be a woman who valued whatever authority and agency she could have. But she did not want to be alone. She came to Pemberley.

The ember of hope was now a tiny flame.

“You said you would never marry again, and you also said to me you would never give me a different answer. So I will not ask again.” He heard her give a little gasp. “But I will wait.”

Her head snapped up. “Wait? Wait for what?”

“I will wait for you to tell me what you want.”

Watching the subtle expression of her eyes, Darcy felt like he could see her thinking.

“But what do you want?” she asked in an anxious tone.

“This is not about what I want,” he said quickly. “It is entirely about what you want and need.”

He waited for her to speak. Her mouth opened and closed a few times while her cheeks turned red. Elizabeth Fitzwilliam was speechless. He had not thought her too delicate to profess what she wanted, but he needed her to speak first, and would argue that she needed it, too.

“You always wanted to be self-reliant,” he said, “and have power over your own fate. That is not a desire many women have.” He thought for a moment. “Or, if they do, few have the rank and the wealth to give them that agency. But now you do.”

Darcy smiled at her, but she gave him a quizzical look. “What? What can I do?”

He felt for her in all the anxiety of her situation, but he found her confused expression adorable. “Not only is your fate in your own hands, but so is mine. By nature of my sex and all of society’s expectations, I have all the authority to make offers and speak first. But I know you need control over your future, so I cede all of my power in this case to you.”

She blinked. “Are you saying you want me to?—”

“I want you to be happy,” he said, rising to leave. “I will always be your steadfast friend and your son’s protector. If you wish for anything else, you need only ask.”

“He is perfect!” cried Georgiana for the dozenth time. Elizabeth was certain that between Georgiana and Becky, she would never have to pick up her son again if she did not wish it.

“You are welcome to play with him whenever you like. I am glad for him to be surrounded by people who love him.”

“I am so pleased you returned, Lizzy,” Georgiana said, still looking at the baby. She had spent all morning in the nursery with her and Edward. “There was no sense in your leaving, none.” Georgiana gasped and looked at her. “I am sorry! Of course, you wanted to be near your family, especially with you having a baby.”

“No, you are right,” Elizabeth murmured. “And you are my family too. It was foolish of me to leave the way I did, especially since I was happier at Pemberley than I have been anywhere else.”

She knew now she would be happier wherever Darcy was. That was why she returned. She wanted to marry him and have the right to be by his side always. He would not expect her to be subservient, but would be her dearest friend and see her as an equal. She wanted him to be Edward’s father, wanted him to talk with her about everything that mattered to him. She wanted him to kiss her like he had in August. She had missed him every day.

Even the taste of him lingered. Time had not tamed her imagination.

“Has my brother held Edward yet?” Georgiana asked before repeating a few of the coos that the baby made back to him.

“No,” she said, hoping her face was not red as she imagined more fervent embraces with Darcy. “I will arrange a proper introduction when it is convenient for him.”

In order to present Edward to his guardian, she would have to be in the same room with Darcy, which was something she had avoided since last night.

The discomposure of spirits that Darcy’s extraordinary request threw her into could not easily be overcome. He wanted her to ask him to marry her. It was such a deeply rooted truth that no man wanted a woman who acknowledged her feelings first. Every mother, governess, and conduct book advised against showing any particularity of sentiment before the man spoke, since no man wanted a forward woman as his wife.

Men proposed. Women accepted or rejected.

Elizabeth sighed, but no one heard her over Edward’s giggles. Darcy had given her more power than she knew how to use.

She had come all this way. She loved him. He would not think of her asking him to marry her as impertinent behaviour, not if he invited her to declare herself if she wanted him. It sounded absurd to her for a woman to propose, but had she not wished for more power than women typically had?

Darcy needed her to assure him explicitly of her warm affections and tender feelings.

It would be laughable to most people, but not to Darcy. If she wanted him, after all of her refusals, she would have to claim him. He had granted his permission to address him.

She had to prove to Darcy how important he was to her.

“Can I leave Edward with you for a while?” Georgiana scarcely looked up from bouncing Edward as she nodded. “Rebeckah is in the next room if he needs anything. I have to talk with your brother.”

She must do more than talk; she had to make a serious declaration. He deserved her openness, her candour, and a sincere apology for not trusting him and for rending his heart in two with her pride and obstinance.

Elizabeth wondered how men proposed as she searched for Darcy. How did a man walk into a room, ask after a lady’s health, and then announce that he loved her and ask her to marry him? It was daunting. And yet, how was this the most frightening thing she had to endure, after everything she had withstood this year?

He was reading in the library, with all the tables, chairs, and fires to himself. Darcy rose on seeing her, and she had to swallow twice before even saying, “Good afternoon.”

“Good afternoon,” he murmured.

He was watching her with all of his usual outward patience. Quiet and attentive and ready to make a decision as soon as he had enough information. Darcy was perfect for her, but she would have to make herself sensible about her feelings and fears before she could do that.

Even though she felt he loved her, her palms were sweating, her heart was racing, and with her next breath, she felt it equally possible that she could flee the room or offer her hand.

His steady gaze pressed on her as she walked around the room. She could not postpone her fate any longer. She went toward him in an agitated manner and cried, “I am so sorry, Darcy.”

“Sorry?” he repeated in a tone of concern and surprise. “Whatever for?”

“I should have trusted you in August when you asked me to marry you. I loved you then as I do now, but I was frightened and foolish. How could I have been so untrusting and so prideful? Is there any way I can return to your good graces?”

He started. “I do not hate you. Never could I hate you or resent the past.”

She hurried to add, “I do not believe you capable of anything unjust or absurd as that you would resent me or call me fickle, but I know what I did was hurtful.”

What even was she saying? Had she even asked if he would still marry her? She had to explain herself as best she could.

“When Fitzwilliam died, my personhood as Mrs Fitzwilliam was no more, but Miss Lizzy Bennet was also gone. I did not know who I was, but I knew that there was no one to rely on when I was desperate—truly desperate. No man tended to my needs, and I had no way of taking care of myself. I never wanted to depend on anyone again, so then no one could disappoint me.”

“Not an unreasonable conjecture,” he said, stepping a little closer.

His answer was so sincere that she let out a shuddering sigh and took a few trembling steps toward him. “I thought being alone and able to support myself would make me happy because being dependent had always meant being disappointed. I was proud of being able to manage on my own. But in pursuing that independence above all else, I have been prideful—and cowardly. ”

“Cowardly?” Darcy shook his head. “You are the bravest woman I know. You can survive anything, endure anything.”

“Survive,” she breathed. “That is only a life at the most basic level. I don’t want to do that anymore. I survived in Spain, I survived fearing I would lose my son, and I did those things alone. I don’t want to just survive and endure, or be alone.”

Darcy’s eyes fixed on hers, but he said nothing. She had not been clear. Did he know she loved him ardently?

“You said that any man I had the sense to choose would be more generous and more favourable to me than is typical,” she said in a rush. “But I am uncertain I chose wisely the first time, so how could I trust my judgment the second time, even with all the evidence of your goodness before me? I married so quickly, and my first husband expected me to defer to him. I na?vely thought a couple were supposed to be friends, equals, partners. He would not heed my input in how he invested his money, even though it affected me. I do not know that we would have had a true partnership if he lived. But now I know I could have that with you.”

Darcy took two quick steps to stand before her. His hands came up, cupping her cheeks as he kissed her. Her heart sped as she steadied herself with one hand around his waist and the other against his chest. The part of her mind not relishing Darcy’s mouth pressed roughly against hers enjoyed feeling his heart pounding beneath her hand.

“Will you marry me?” he asked against her lips.

“I thought I was proposing this time?” she said, laughing in relief and delight as she clung to him.

“You take too long.” He pressed another lingering kiss to her lips. “My dearest, loveliest Elizabeth. Will it make you happy to marry me?”

“You said you wanted me to be happy. If the most boundless love can ensure my happiness, I am certain that I want to spend my life with you.”

She stretched onto her toes and kissed him. He dropped a hand to her lower back, pulling her closer, and she deepened the kiss, sweeping in her tongue to taste him. As he sucked on her tongue, all rational thought dissolved. Somehow, they staggered to the sofa, a tangle of arms and lips, and whispered promises.

“Is this what you want?” he murmured while pushing loose curls of hair from her face. “I won’t stand for you feeling like a captive in a prison.”

“It is only a wretched domestic prison if there is no one who loves me with me. I am not afraid any more. I love you. I won’t lose myself by marrying you. I can put myself under your powers because you will not abuse them.”

“Regardless of what the law says,” he said, “you assume I am not entirely under your power as well. Whatever your short first marriage was like, we can decide for ourselves how ours will be. Whatever is to be decided about our home, our family, our investments, you will have an opinion and I expect to hear it.”

“Even if I disagree with you?” she asked, knowing the answer.

“Even then,” he whispered. “I want to take care of you, even though I know you do not need it. Will you let me take care of you?”

She felt tears forming and blinked them away while she nodded. “I thought it was easier if I relied on no one, that marrying again would destroy my autonomy, but I was foolish, Darcy.”

“Not foolish,” he said, kissing her again. “Afraid of being subservient, of not having any power over your own life, of trusting someone again.”

“I am so sorry, Darcy.” He shook his head to dismiss her apology, and she pressed a slow kiss to his lips. “I can trust in your honourable character, and your good principles, and your love for me.”

“I know how valuable that trust in me is,” he said. “I will endeavour to be worthy of it, and prove to you my ardent attachment and unequalled love.”

His deep voice was a little breathless, and it brought to mind all the hopes of seeing that unexampled passion soon.

“We have lost so much time together,” she whispered. “I thought I had to be alone because I wanted to be independent, but I was just afraid. ”

“Being alone is not the same as being independent, or, at least, not always the same.”

“I know that now.”

Darcy smiled, joy diffusing over his face. “Can I make you Mrs Darcy in the course of a month? This is really your choice?”

Her heart swelled with emotion. “You are my choice. I only regret it took me so long.”

They sat together for a long while, not kissing or even talking. They simply leant against each other, forehead to forehead, with arms around each other.