Day 11
She started again at the sound of hooves on the cobblestones outside the Gardiner townhouse as she had done since she came down for breakfast, hoping his business would be concluded faster than anticipated.
Not him—seeing only the delivery carriage roll by, she let the curtains fall back into place.
“You will see him tonight, Lizzy,” Mrs. Gardiner said, entering the room and sitting down in the chair across from her niece.
“Of whom do you speak? I am certain I do not know your meaning.”
Aunt Gardiner smirked as she picked up her sewing. “Why, your uncle, of course.”
“My uncle? Why would I be looking for my uncle?”
Her niece slumped further down in her chair, and a resigned sigh escaped her lips. “Am I so obvious?”
“Only to me, dear girl.” She pulled the thread through the fabric and glanced up. “I had the same look in my eyes when your uncle and I were courting. There was not a moment that passed when I did not think of him.”
“Oh?” Lizzy leaned forward and rested her chin in her hands.
“I would sit at my parents’ front window with my sewing so he would see me as he came to call. My heart still races when he comes into the room.”
A light blush spread across the cheeks of Madeline Gardiner, and Lizzy smiled at her aunt’s understanding.
“I just believe that I have never met a gentleman who in manner and understanding most suits me.” She concentrated more on her own needlework so her aunt might not hear the quaver in her voice.
“Mr. Fitzroy is everything I have ever desired in a…husband.” She swallowed without looking up.
“I do not want to suppose he has similar feelings––”
“Oh, I do not believe you should worry about that, my dear.”
Lizzy looked up, her eyes large. “Have I been too obvious in my affection?”
“Not at all. Both of you have been plain. From the little I have seen of the two of you together, as well as Mrs. Collins’s letters…”
“Jane has written of Mr. Fitzroy?”
“To be sure. She is your sister, is she not?” Aunt Gardiner took a moment to finish up a stitch. “But that brings something else to mind, Lizzy.”
“Yes?”
“Your sister has mentioned a new person quite frequently in her letters of late. The new proprietor of the mercantile? A Mr. Bingley? Truth be told, she has mentioned her shopping trips into the village much more frequently than in letters past…” Aunt Gardiner’s unasked question hung in the air around them.
Lizzy finally asked, “What of him?”
Mrs. Gardiner kept sewing. “She seems to be in his company much. And Mr. Collins is often at Rosings. Jane comes upon him in the oddest places.”
Elizabeth sighed, feeling the weight of her sister’s unhappiness upon her own shoulders. “I do not believe Jane has done anything to taint her vows, Aunt. I have reminded her of her allegiance to Mr. Collins, and she is quite steadfast.”
Mrs. Gardiner encouraged Elizabeth to continue.
Her embroidery had become a mass of knots, so she placed it on the seat beside her.
“I have often thought of the sacrifice we as women are asked to make. We are the weaker sex because we are told we are the weaker sex. Had Jane not done her duty for the family, she too might have been blessed with a Mr. Fitzroy of her own.”
Aunt Madeline set her own sewing down. “Jane made her choice, my dear.”
“But did she? She had no choice, Aunt. You know my mother. Jane would have been disowned if she had refused her toad of a husband.”
“Lizzy, that is unkind. True, Mr. Collins is not…the ideal mate for our Jane, but he was whom she chose––”
“Mama chose.”
“That might be so, but Jane is his wife and is married. We cannot lament a life that might have been when we are living the one we have chosen. No matter the injustice of it. That is not how life works.”
“I do not want to live a life of regrets.”
“It does not appear you will have to, my dear.”
Elizabeth stood and began pacing the room. “But what if I have to? What if Mr. Fitzroy does not feel the same for me as I do him? What if he was attached to another lady before his accident? What if he does not come today? What if he cancels our plans for the theater and dinner tonight?”
Madeline Gardiner’s soft laughter filtered through the room, causing her niece to stop abruptly. “Oh, my dear. You are thoroughly in love with this man.”
Elizabeth took only a trice before her feelings were as plain to herself as they were to her aunt. “I think I am.”
The older woman shook her head. “I cannot promise you he will fulfill your expectations…”
“I know but,” she said, fidgeting with a ribbon on her cuff, “I have no desire to appear missish, either but, I have this great fear that…”
“That what, my dear?”
“That I will lose him,” Lizzy cried, waving her hands.
She began to pace again without looking up.
“It perplexes me, as there is something about him which leads me to feel a level of comfort as if I have known him longer than these few short weeks. That we have had conversations before. As if we have taken long walks before. That we have teased each other before. I cannot distinguish why, but I fear I will live a life of monotony with my own Mr. Collins, while this man…this man who I respect and…love”—she stopped and whispered into the universe—“and love above all others, will not love me in return.”
The hinges on the door squeaked as the parlor door opened. Elizabeth turned abruptly, her face draining of color.
“Mr. Fitzroy!”
A softness had overtaken his handsome features and his dimple was peeking through before he seemed to remember himself. “Miss Bennet, Mrs. Gardiner. Forgive my intrusion. I met Mr. Gardiner outside, and he invited me in.”
His eyes never left hers. The woman whose love he had finally obtained. He hardly noticed Mrs. Gardiner standing to gather her sewing. She moved toward the corridor while ushering him in the room and closing the squeaky door.
“You…you love me?”
“You should not eavesdrop on the ramblings of a silly woman.”
“You are no silly woman.” She had not moved, but his voice thick with emotion. “Say it again. Say you love me.”
“I love you, William,” she said in a breath.
He could not move. Two lifetimes’ worth of unrequited love coursed through him, propelling him forward. But fear could not hold him back. “Elizabeth,” his ragged voice whispered.
Then, in two long strides, he reached her and enveloped her in his arms before reverently lowering his mouth to hers.
As her hands shyly wrapped around his neck and her fingers wove through his hair, he was lost in her response.
Her hands dropped to his chest, and with eyes lowered, she looked up through thick lashes.
It took all his self-control to curl his hands around her waist and step back, allowing her taste to linger on his lips.
Reaching up, his thumbs traced her skin as he cradled her face in his hands.
“From the very first of our acquaintance, Elizabeth Bennet, there is nothing that I have dreamt of more than this moment.” He placed a tender kiss upon her brow, slowly drawing his lips away.
“I have never loved another woman as I have loved you.” He swallowed a lump in his throat, unnecessary fear taking hold where her rejection had left a hole in his heart in a previous lifetime.
“Say you will be my wife, the mistress of my estates, and the…mother of my children.”
She colored prettily. “There is nothing I would rather be, than your wife, Mr. Fitzroy.”
“I have much to tell you.” He leaned in and kissed her gently before pulling away. “Please, call me Darcy, my love.”