Chapter 7 - Salvation
Darcy
Where is she? God, I implore you. Take me to her. I have suffered enough.
Darcy rushed towards the very end of the front garden.
There was a small secluded spot behind the lavender garden, where a set of benches were arranged.
It was hidden behind some large bushes and it provided a perfect retreat, ideal for someone seeking respite from their afflictions.
He expected to find her there, but the benches remained vacant.
He proceeded to the next plausible destination where she might have sought solace.
To the north of the lake, there is another secluded spot with a bench overlooking the water and the breathtaking hills beyond.
It was normally used as an idyllic spot for a picnic.
He and Georgiana had spent a lot of time there during their growing up days.
It could be perfect for someone who is craving for solitude as well.
As he rounded some thickly grown bushes, he finally saw her. She was seated on the very bench that faced the lake, gazing towards the distant hills. She seemed lost in thought.
Seven years ago, a day before his fateful proposal at Rosings, Darcy had briefly contemplated writing out his proposal and preparing the words he would convey to her.
However, he ultimately discarded the idea, believing that it would be best if the sentiments flowed directly from his heart.
Yet, this did not mean he was wholly unprepared.
He had dreamed of proposing to her many times, so he had some awareness about what he wanted to say to her.
But today, as he stood before her, he found himself utterly at a loss for words. His mind was blank, and he struggled to find the right sentiments to convey. She, who immediately stood up on his approach, stared at him in hope. The silence was deafening.
It was then that he noticed her tears, tears that she attempted to conceal, but with little success.
The unspoken anguish mirrored in those tears conveyed more than words ever could.
All his protective instincts took over, and he longed to wipe her tears away and draw her into his embrace.
The love that had bloomed from the very moment of their acquaintance, the love that had withstood the trials and tribulations of time, the love that was suppressed for so long, was finally allowed to express itself.
In a voice that seemed to originate from the depths of his soul, he called her the name she always adorned in his dreams, involuntarily extending his arms towards her.
“Elizabeth,” his voice sounded unfamiliar to even himself.
That was more than enough. He did well not to write out his proposal. That would have been a complete waste of time.
Elizabeth
Elizabeth had often glimpsed a particular bench from the window while tending to Jane.
She had made a promise to herself that, once the weather cleared, she would venture there at least once.
However, she had never anticipated that her first visit would unfold in such a manner.
As she finally sat upon the bench, her mind was in no state to savour the experience.
How did I misinterpret his sentiments yet again? I could still feel his body growing tense on hearing Charles's words that day. I was certain he loved me. If it isn't love, then what is it?
Oh, how she yearned for him to look in her direction after Louisa's confession.
Yet, he never did. He should have simply walked away without uttering a word.
Instead, he proceeded to express his respect for her—a respect that did nothing to alleviate the profound sadness that gripped her heart.
His words were hurtful, words that should have been better avoided.
Yet, deep down, she knew she deserved to hear them, considering all the anguish she had caused him over the years.
Deep in her contemplation, she was startled by approaching footsteps.
Hastily rising to her feet, she saw the very gentleman who consumed her every thought.
He was standing there, seemingly in confusion.
Elizabeth's mind went back to that evening, seven years ago, when he had stood at the entrance to the front parlour of Hunsford parsonage in a similar posture.
He then went on to propose to her in the most endearing manner.
It was then she became aware of her tears, and she hurriedly tried to wipe them away.
Her movement seemed to rouse him from his reverie.
She saw his countenance soften, his eyes widen.
It was then that she realized the truth.
He had come for her. He was simply struggling to find the right words.
His face was etched with anguish. His eyes were reflecting his longing for her.
Just as Elizabeth contemplated assisting him with words, he extended his hands toward her, and in a voice tinged with desperation, he called her the name she had always yearned to hear from his lips.
There was no need for further words. Without a moment's hesitation, Elizabeth ran into his open arms. They held each other tightly, unwilling to let go. Their bodies pressed close, their souls entwined. In each other’s arms, they found solace, love and a sense of completeness that had eluded them for far too long.
All the weight of their past burdens, their regrets, finally lifted, leaving only the promise of a future filled with love and happiness.
In that idyllic moment, two souls destined for one another finally found their way home.
They remained like that for a long time.
Darcy
Darcy had no notion of how much time had passed during their embrace.
He couldn't dismiss the possibility of someone inquiring about his whereabouts, or Mrs. Reynolds sending someone to find him.
The spot they occupied was visible from the upstairs windows, and some of his staff might witness their intimate exchange.
Propriety urged him to release her and maintain a respectful distance.
Yet, he resisted the urge. For once, he did not care about propriety. Elizabeth, his dear Elizabeth, was in his arms, her face nestled against his chest. There was no way he would willingly let her go. If she chose to move away, so be it. He would not relinquish her.
After a while, he felt her stir, and he saw her looking up into his face.
He realized that he still hadn’t asked her to marry him.
It was probably unneeded, but he wanted to ask.
Words failed him at the critical juncture, but perhaps they were unnecessary.
Taking both her hands in his, he gazed deeply into her eyes and asked the most crucial question.
"Elizabeth, I am at a loss for words. All I know is that I cannot bear the thought of a single moment without you by my side. I beg you to end my suffering and become my wife."
She didn't reply with words. Instead, she moved closer, rising onto her toes, and her lips met his in a tender kiss—a kiss that held the promise of many more to come. As they parted, she looked straight into his eyes and declared.
"I was never truly my mother's daughter. But one thing she said has some merit. There are advantages to seeking a wealthy suitor. So, how soon can you arrange for a special licence?"
The unexpected question caused Darcy to burst into laughter—a laughter unburdened by the tensions he had carried for so long. He knew then that he was finally going to live a life of happiness and love with her by his side.
God! How did I endure all these years without her?
Elizabeth's surprise at his laughter was understandable. His serious demeanour rarely allowed for such displays. When he did laugh, it was a rarity that often elicited astonished looks.
Once his laughter subsided, he kissed her hands before answering her inquiry.
"I shall travel to obtain the special licence on the morrow, setting off early, and returning by evening.
The journey shall lead me only as far as Matlock.
If you are willing, my dearest Elizabeth, we shall seal our union on the blessed day of Christmas, Saturday.
I know your father's consent is not required, but if you think it is needed, I shall travel to Hertfordshire and humbly seek his permission, even if it delays my return journey. "
She was shaking her head even before he finished his sentence.
"Saturday it is then. I require no one's permission, Mr. Darcy.
I shall pen letters to Augustus and Jemima, the brother and mother of my late husband.
Jemima, dear soul, is already aware of my feelings for you, and she will be overjoyed.
I am certain that Augustus will be equally delighted, for he has ever treated me as a sister.
Mark my words, Mr. Darcy, I permit you to undertake the journey alone for the special licence, but be forewarned, it shall be the last time we endure separation in the near future.
I find no solace in being away from you for even a moment unnecessarily," she retorted, punctuating her statement with a raised finger that carried a hint of playful threat.
Her determination elicited a warm smile from Darcy. "Yes, madam, your point is duly noted. In truth, I have no desire to leave your side, if I can manage it," he replied with heartfelt devotion.
He suddenly realized that he knew very little about her life during their seven years apart. There was much he desired to learn, including details about her deceased husband. However, before delving into her past, there was another important matter he needed to address.
"Fitzwilliam, my dear. I am Fitzwilliam to you, even in public.
There is no name I desire more from your lips.
Now, I long to hear about your life since we parted last," he said, as he gently guided her to sit beside him on a bench, where he enfolded her in his embrace, cherishing this long-awaited moment of coming together.
Elizabeth