Chapter 27 #2
“Heavens, no. The tide is moving landwards, and we must soon leave the beach.” Darcy placed the lantern on the ground and an immaculate handkerchief atop the log for her to sit upon, then he joined her there.
“My parents also gave me station and wealth, of course. But there were times when all I wanted was to know, to be told, that I was loved, for my mother to kiss my cheek or forehead, for my father to say he was proud of me and give me a hug.”
Moving to a crouch in front of him, Elizabeth kissed his forehead, then his cheek.
“They loved you. How could they not? And when we are married, I shall tell you that I love you every day for the rest of my life. I am proud of the man you are, and I shall be exceedingly proud to be your wife.” She settled beside him.
He held her hand. “I thought all I wanted was to be loved, but that was terribly childish of me. I have come to realise that what I really want is to love somebody. Two months ago, the most compassionate and merciful person that I have ever had the privilege to know came back into my life—a woman who helps those around her who are hurting or ill. A woman who gives people a second chance, even those who treated her with disdain.” Darcy kissed Elizabeth’s fingers. “You are too good.”
“You, sir, are everything thoughtful and good, but must we debate which one of us is too good? Too much of anything can be harmful, at least that is Heiress Tottle’s philosophy. Remember?”
“Oh yes, I have given my cat’s doctrine considerable thought, particularly regarding our, your and my, compatibility.
We certainly share the same principles, and although we have different temperaments, I believe we might nicely challenge and complement one another in ways that can only strengthen our union.
For example, I can be punctilious, while you are more… ”
He must have thought for a moment too long, so Elizabeth prompted, “Careless? Slap-dash?”
“No. I was going to say easy-going. In any event, we shall simply strive to strike that sweet balance Heiress Tottle advocates.”
Darcy laced their fingers together. “I have never spent two months more agreeably than those which have just flown by. The best days of my life were spent here with you…the Wright family and their contrivances notwithstanding. I shall regret having to sell Strandsmere Park, for it holds my fondest memories.”
The night was balmy, the air held a salty tang, and the sun had long since sunk into the sea.
Farther up the beach, the fire had been allowed to die down.
What once had been a huge roaring blaze, heaped with logs of oak and silver birch, was a hissing mass of glowing red embers and acrid greyish-white ash.
Only thin columns of smoke wafted into the star-studded sky.
“By now, footmen must be taking everything back to the house. And, as arranged, our three carriages—Bingley’s, your father’s, and my own—must be transporting the neighbours who walked here back to their homes.
The tide is rushing in. We must hurry.” They stood; he picked up the lantern and clasped his bride’s hand.
She fetched his handkerchief from the log.
As they walked, Darcy peered across the water, searching for the boat anchored just beyond the beach.
Satisfied when it floated into view, he stopped and faced Elizabeth.
“I have not the temperament to speak in the flowery language of love, nor am I of a disposition in which happiness overflows in mirth. But with you… You make me happy. Georgiana saw it before I did. Now, I am deeply, deeply in love with you. You bring me to my knees, my darling, and were I not such a proud creature, I would have knelt before you whilst asking you to marry me. By the by, most of our family and friends back there believe I am, at this minute, begging you to be my wife. So again I shall ask, will you marry me?”
“You know I will.”
“Is that a yes?”
“Yes!”
Darcy slid back the lantern’s shield that had concealed the flame.
Holding it up, he signalled to the fire master to set off the display.
The man waiting out on the water in a clinker-built rowing punt was actually old Mr Miller, who had been a commissioned officer in the artillery and became deaf because of prolonged exposure to the sound of cannons.
He had cleverly constructed a canopy made from fresh green leaves to protect both himself and the boat from the orange and white sparks as fireworks lit up the sky.
From high atop the cliff, Colonel Fitzwilliam could be heard shouting, “She said ‘yes’!”
Amongst the cheers ringing out from those on the lawn in front of the villa, and from somewhere high above the engaged couple, there came a prolonged, shrill cry of delight. Looking up, they spotted Mrs Bennet running towards the fence. They quickly stepped closer to the bank, out of her sight.
“Oh, my dear Lizzy,” she shouted. “And Mr Darcy, too! Pray forgive me, sir, for having disliked you so much before. I hope you will overlook it. Now then, you will and must be married by a special licence, perhaps in a month or two from now. That may give me enough time to choose your wedding clothes, my sweet Lizzy, and… Lizzy? Mr Darcy? Can you hear me? Are you down there?”
The engaged couple were busy setting off their own special kind of spark and fireworks until Elizabeth yelped, “My feet are suddenly cold.”
“You have cold feet already?”
“No. Well, yes. My feet are cold. And wet.”
Wearing tall boots, Darcy had not realised just how fast the tide had rushed in. He passed the lantern to Elizabeth, picked her up, and ran with her in his arms. The water had nearly reached the tops of his Hessians by the time he arrived, panting, at the stone steps. She was slender but an armful.
“My hero!” Elizabeth kissed his jaw.
“The Bakers and their niece and nephew are waiting at the top for you, my love. I expect they wish to be in their carriage and bound for Cliff House straightaway. I shall have to ensure they have enough lanterns to light the way.”
She gasped. “Mr Darcy, how am I to get home? To Longbourn, I mean. There will be no room for me in Papa’s carriage when they all leave the day after tomorrow. Nor can I go with Jane and Mr Bingley, for they will be Scarborough-bound to fetch Miss Bingley and the Hursts.”
Darcy thanked God that he had shilly-shallied concerning Hannah Wright.
With Elizabeth, though, he had acted with his customary alertness of mind, neither undecided nor dilatory.
Perhaps too hasty, though. “As I understand it, Jasper Hughes will be staying at Cliff House for a fortnight, and my cousin will hire a post-chaise when he leaves. But… Do you want to go home?” he asked, mind racing with possible denouements.
“No, not really, but—”
“Then stay, and meet me tomorrow morning in the church at Wyman’s Cove.
While in Bristol, I obtained a common marriage licence from a bishop, one of my Darcy cousins.
So, if you are willing, the village vicar has agreed to perform the ceremony at nine o’clock.
” He peered at his watch and winced. “Ten hours or so from now.”