Chapter Eight #3
In less than ten minutes’ walk, they emerged from the tree-lined path into a clearing painted by the sun.
Darcy pushed aside several branches to permit Miss Elizabeth to step into a field of vibrantly colored wildflowers—primroses, bluebells, wild hyacinths, and anemones.
He enjoyed the gasp she emitted upon seeing what the clearing had to offer.
“Mr. Darcy,” she exclaimed, “this is magnificent!”
He could not stop the smile erupting upon his lips.
As Elizabeth stepped away from him and scampered towards the field, Darcy reluctantly released her.
He watched as she stopped suddenly, spread her arms full wide, and turned around and around, looking skyward with joy.
He had not expected such unencumbered pleasure, but he found nothing critical in Elizabeth’s actions.
He could not turn his head or his mind away from the spectacle.
She was the most exquisite creature he had ever seen.
She walked through the field at several angles, stopping to enjoy the various flowers before returning to him. “Mr. Darcy, you have honored me by sharing this clearing. I cannot understand why you chose to do so, but it will be a treasured memory of my journey to Rosings.”
“My mother loved nature, Miss Elizabeth. I believe she would have been pleased to know you approved of her favorite refuge,” he offered. Realizing he could not press her too quickly, Darcy said evenly, “Are you prepared to return to the Parsonage?”
“Yes, sir, I believe I am.” He extended his arm, and anticipating the pathway’s unevenness, she took a firmer grip than previously.
He loved Elizabeth Bennet; the realization of admitting his feelings flashed through him.
No more would he say he loved her eyes or loved how she spoke her mind.
No longer would he think of his feelings as only an attraction.
He loved Elizabeth. It was as simple as that.
He managed to swallow hard and to say, “I am pleased my intrusion was not unpleasant, Miss Elizabeth.”
“I believe I have told you previously that not all intrusions are unwelcome.”
“Our acquaintance has been long enough for us to know something of the other’s preferences.
” She looked at him with questions hidden behind her eyes; Darcy assumed Elizabeth would now expect him to make known his intentions.
He had demonstrated his wish to share precious parts of his life with her.
The lady could no longer doubt his purpose.
Broken only by occasional civilities regarding the weather and of books recently read, the companionable silence returned between them.
As was customary, he left her at the Parsonage’s door, but this time as he strode away, he allowed himself the pleasure of turning for a final look.
Elizabeth stood transfixed and looked towards where he had stopped.
He touched the brim of his hat to bid her farewell and strolled away.
Tomorrow, he thought as he walked along the well-worn path.
Tomorrow he would offer his hand to Elizabeth.
He would depart Rosings in two days; therefore, tomorrow would be the day.
The prayer the Devil answers, he reminded himself.
Let the Devil beware. He would declare his love for Elizabeth.
She would accept, and then Darcy would deal with those from whom censure would surely come.
Tonight, he would prepare a proper proposal; he would tell Elizabeth how, despite their differences, his regard for her had grown.
He imagined her happiness at his declaration.
That evening Darcy slept well with the knowledge on the morrow Elizabeth would be his.
Unfortunately, when he found his way to Elizabeth’s favorite pathway, reality dashed his hopes.
Edward walked with her, and they conversed intimately.
He could hear her soft laughter and see his cousin’s animated gestures.
Darcy felt as if someone had ripped his heart from his chest. His plans for the proposal were not only ruined, but he witnessed her enjoyment of his cousin’s company.
The green-eyed monster known as jealousy ricocheted through him.
Darcy withdrew without their seeing him and returned to Rosings unnoticed.
He watched from the study’s window as his cousin returned to Rosings.
He attempted to note any changes in Edward, but none of any consequence was evident.
Darcy stepped from the window and moved to where anyone going by the door would think the room was empty.
He could not check his emotions enough to be civil to anyone.
Assuming Edward had not offered intentions of his own, Darcy must discover another opportunity to engage Elizabeth.
The longer he examined the situation, the more reasonable he became.
Edward, as a second son, could not afford to marry Elizabeth.
His cousin had said as much before they had come to Rosings.
Edward may find Elizabeth attractive, but his cousin conversed amiably with everyone.
Just as did Bingley. Both were affable gentlemen.
As his reason returned, Darcy returned to his plans.
He could call upon Elizabeth tomorrow. What would four and twenty hours change?
However, a full day was not necessary for him to act.
Within an hour, one of his aunt’s maids informed him Lady Catherine had invited the Collins’s household to Rosings for tea.
At least Darcy would have the pleasure of Elizabeth’s company this evening, and, although Edward customarily monopolized her time, tonight Darcy would spoil his cousin’s plan.
Tonight, Elizabeth’s attentions would be on him.
The Collinses’ arrival came at last, but to Darcy’s dismay, Mr. Collins offered Lady Catherine his sincerest apologies, for his cousin had taken ill. How could Elizabeth be ill? She seemed in health this morning when he observed her in the park.
He went through the motions society demanded, but he could not abandon his thoughts of Elizabeth Bennet.
If she is ill, I must do what I can to comfort her.
Now, he fully understood how Bingley felt when Miss Jane Bennet became ill at Netherfield.
Then another thought outran his concern for Miss Elizabeth.
Her illness is a sham. Elizabeth had expected my offer this morning only to find Edward in the park.
Had he and she not congenially met in the park each morning?
Her distress of not seeing him must have created her illness.
Or the leaving off could be a means of their being alone. Yes, it must be so.
Convinced of the latter, Darcy excused himself from the party using the pretext he and Edward would depart in six and thirty hours, and some business still required his attention. The colonel, he assured the gathering, was better suited than he to entertain.
Returning to his chambers, he retrieved his greatcoat, hat, and walking stick. Not wishing to be seen by his aunt’s guests, he took the back stairway of the servants’ quarters. He must be to Elizabeth. He had a purpose; one he could not abandon.
At the Cottage, he rang the bell, and a servant admitted him to the inner room where he found Elizabeth agitated and flushed.
His hopes sprang from the depths of his love for her; obviously, she had awaited his appearance.
He came forward and immediately inquired about her health, although in countenance, Elizabeth appeared more flustered than unwell.
“I came with a wish of hearing you are not suffering,” he extended his excuse.
Coldly civil, Elizabeth answered him. “As you may see, sir, I am well.”
Naturally, his not coming to her earlier had upset her.
Darcy worked hard to recall exactly what he wished to say to her this morning.
He had planned his speech carefully, drafting it several times, and so, although he had accepted the seat she offered, his nerves would not permit such constraint; he had to move, and within a few moments, he paced about the room.
Elizabeth’s eyes followed him; he could feel them.
Could feel her curiosity. Finally, he turned to her.
Agitation growing. Knowing he must say the words or lose his opportunity.
Silence ensued as he composed himself; but it was to no avail.
His words could not be restrained. “In vain have I struggled. It will not do. My feelings will not be repressed. You must allow me to tell you how ardently I admire and love you.”
Elizabeth remained silent, but he did not take this as a bad sign.
He convinced himself she wished only to hear of his deep affection, so he continued.
“Miss Elizabeth, my regard for you began when we first met in Hertfordshire. I was, admittedly, foolish not to seek a proper introduction at the assembly, but my station in life does not permit me the luxury of associating with those of inferior society, and I was at first blind to your worth. While at Netherfield, I found worthy both your devotion to your sister, as well as your kindness to Maria Lucas and others who sought your good wishes. Even so, I struggled for several months as to my feelings for you. One must realize the superiority of my family’s connections had to be a concern for our alliance; the censure and disdain we are likely to encounter with such an unequal match was another consideration, but after much self-reproach, I accepted the inferiority of your family’s connections, and I offer you my hand in matrimony. ”