Chapter 25
Darcy paced his room, fully dressed. It was barely dawn, but for him the night was over even though there was no visible daylight yet.
The strange yet pleasant thrill inside him unsettled him but also made him smile.
He kept looking outside to see the first glimpse of light.
Going in full darkness to awaken the stable boys to saddle his horse would be unreasonable.
Besides, Elizabeth could not possibly leave the house until morning came.
The desire of meeting her was difficult to understand even for him; after all, he was seeing her almost daily, he could visit and speak to her whenever he wished to.
But the notion that she would willingly come to meet him, that she had mentioned to him that she regretted not going walking on the previous two days, were little things that he would not have even taken into consideration in the past. Before he met Elizabeth and before she conquered his heart and his mind.
Nothing had been the same in the last two months — he was not the same.
When he left Hertfordshire, he was disappointed but completely understood her rejection and respected her strength of character.
He departed from her knowing his feelings for her would never change but hoping hers would — eventually — allow a warm friendship to grow between them.
He had been prepared to wait for as long as necessary and to allow her to take their friendship at the pace she desired.
He was determined to be patient and to wait for the opportunity to address her again one day with another marriage proposal — one that was meant to be, one that was not tainted by gossip, nor forced by circumstances.
He felt blessed, fortunate, grateful to witness Elizabeth’s warming behaviour towards him.
She seemed happy in his presence, and he could not ask for more.
He had no plans, no particular intention in regard to their private meeting.
He would not impose his feelings on her, would not mention more than friendship unless he was certain she wished for it.
Her behaviour and her words would guide him; he was in no hurry, since he knew he might see her again at any time.
She might even come to Pemberley with Bingley and Jane, either for his sake or at least for Georgiana’s.
Or only to accompany her aunt. Any reason was acceptable if it would bring her into his home where he had long dreamed of seeing her.
What a ridiculous fool he had been to think that she did not belong there, that she was not suited to be Mrs Darcy, that she could not be the mistress of Pemberley.
There was no one more suited to those roles, nor to him.
He was certain of that, but he would wait until she was convinced too and would be willing to assume her place in his life and in his arms. The sensation he had experienced when their fingers touched was more than he had ever felt before and more than he — who was always in control of himself — ever believed he might feel.
He was eager and anxious for another touch, for more closeness, for more thrills, but he could keep his desires under good regulation, hoping his patience would eventually be rewarded.
Lost in his musings, he finally noticed it was bright outside, so he quickly straightened his coat and left the room.
***
The sun had barely broken the darkness when Elizabeth awoke. She dressed in a hurry, without knowing why she was in such haste, where she was going, or what she expected.
She knew she was being silly in her impatience to see Darcy; after all, she had just seen him the previous day, she had spent a few hours in his company, and she was already building a friendship with his sister.
And with him, of course. They were in company more than usual acquaintances were, and more opportunities could be foreseen in the future.
Furthermore, he had repeatedly invited her and her relatives to Pemberley.
Then why would a short encounter excite her so much?
Her questions to herself were all rational, all common sense, and yet she could not answer them, nor could she temper her impatience.
Elizabeth left the house, and the cold wind immediately whipped at her face.
She breathed deeply, inhaling the fresh, chilly air.
Her heart pounded, and she assumed it was from the exercise, but she was proved wrong when her heartbeat became wild at the sight of a silhouette waiting not far from the path.
She stopped for a moment, breathed again and pressed her hand over her chest, and only then did she continue walking.
He stepped towards her too. His smile was open, bright, and unrestrained, and his face, slightly red from the wind, looked brighter and more handsome than ever.
“Miss Bennet.”
“Mr Darcy.” She returned the smile, fearing he might hear her heart beating. “I hope you have not been waiting for too long, sir.”
“No, not all. I am glad to see you, Miss Bennet.”
“And I you.”
“Shall we walk?”
“Of course. How is Mrs Annesley? Better, I hope.”
“She was well enough last night, Georgiana tells me. I have no news from this morning. I left the house before anyone else was awake.”
She blushed with embarrassment but held his gaze and answered daringly, “So did I.”
“You are well, I hope? And the children? None of you caught a cold after the sleigh ride?”
“No, we are all well and eager for another ride. It was delightful.”
“Yes, it was,” he said, and Elizabeth averted her eyes, flushed and uneasy but pleased.
“We may arrange another ride soon — either by sleigh or by carriage. Sadly, I cannot arrange the snow.”
“Can you not?” she challenged him with another laugh. “My cousin Thomas is convinced Mr Darcy can do anything.”
“I must thank him for such trust, although we both know it to be undeserved.”
“I am not certain yet,” Elizabeth replied. “I am not yet certain of everything you can do, Mr Darcy,” she said in the same playful tone.
“So, may I assume you are certain of at least a few things about me, Miss Bennet? Not all negative, I hope?”
She blushed even more, and her smile was a little forced, slightly embarrassed by her own unguarded statement.
“None of the things I am certain of are negative, Mr Darcy,” she said in earnest, and he frowned for a moment before his gaze brightened again.
“Please do not assume I am competing with Miss Bingley in praising you,” she continued to jest, hoping to sound amusing enough.
“If you do, I certainly do not mind,” he declared, half serious. “But for now, I must admit that Master Thomas and Master Andrew seem to be my greatest admirers, followed by my sister Georgiana.”
Elizabeth laughed loudly, and, not paying attention to her feet, she almost fell.
She gave a small cry, and he grabbed her arm for support. When she was steady on her feet, he released her.
They walked together, side by side, with his horse following them.
“I am glad to see you, Miss Bennet,” he repeated.
She laughed, flushed, and also repeated, “As am I, Mr Darcy.”
He laughed too. “I am sorry for my awkward manners.”
“Do not worry, sir, your awkward manners are very pleasing.”
“I am sure they are. Anything is better than my previous arrogant and conceited behaviour.”
“I shall not argue with that,” she admitted teasingly. “But I must laugh at my own behaviour which has not been flawless either. We both have a large share of blame, so being awkward is not the worst that might happen to either of us.”
“I must disagree with you, Miss Bennet. The blame and flaws you mentioned I have not noticed…I find nothing wanting in you.”
“Now I know you to be teasing me. My words to you have been rude too many times.”
“If you are right, I have misjudged them completely, as I took it as charming and spirited teasing. I might have been completely wrong or…”
She stopped and looked at him.
“Or…?”
He turned to face her and hesitated for a moment, torn between the temptation of saying more and the fear of revealing too much too soon. She waited, her face lifted to his, her cheeks crimson, her eyes sparkling, her lips pink and slightly parted.
With a knot in his stomach, he decided to continue.
“Or perhaps I have been blinded by my own admiration and feelings, and I read in your manners what I wished to be there, not what actually was.”
Elizabeth stopped breathing, and her heart skipped a few beats.
“When I spoke of my rude manners, I meant from the time prior to the incident with Mr Wickham and everything that happened afterwards,” she explained.
“Yes, I know. When I spoke of my feelings and my misjudgement, I meant the same period of time,” he responded.
Her eyes widened in disbelief, and her lips parted even more.
“But you mean…when I stayed at Netherfield and we argued all the time?” she managed to voice her consternation.
“Yes, I mean when you stayed at Netherfield and we debated in a lively fashion all the time,” he admitted.
She struggled to understand his words, but her reason refused to accept the notion that his admiration and partiality to her had started so early or lasted for so long.
She stared at him without knowing that he had noticed her distress and her sudden paleness and was already berating himself for his lack of patience.
“Miss Bennet, please forgive me. I am so very sorry. I promised myself I would not approach such a delicate subject today. I know it makes you uneasy and I apologise…I wish for nothing else but to spend a pleasant time with you and to keep you company, if you wish to…”
“Of course I wish for your company. I hope you know that. It is just that this is so unexpected, so difficult to believe…”
“I know it is…it was unexpected for me too. And frightening at first. So much so that for a while I refused to admit it even to myself. And once I admitted it, I refused to accept it.”
“So…when you came to propose to me…”