Chapter Ten #5
“Mr. Robertson did pay me attention and made me understand that he had intentions. He is a handsome and eligible gentleman whose company I enjoyed.” She ignored Darcy’s fierce scowl and went on.
“But when he all but declared his hope to make me an offer one day, I knew my feelings for him were not love at all. I could not picture a life with him. Not because he was not good or intelligent or amiable or because we were not compatible, but because he was not you. And I thought not of the you of my childish fantasies—Mr. Robertson might have won out against the mirage of you I created in those early years. But I knew then that the you of our years of friendship, the you of long rides across the fields of Pemberley, the you of chess matches and book discussions, the you of dark brooding looks and curly boyish hair would vanquish all other suitors, past or present, real or imaginary. Because I love you, Fitzwilliam Darcy, the woman I am today loves the man you are today, and for quite a few yesterdays. I would like it noted—I did love you first.”
“My dearest, loveliest Elizabeth.” He swept her into his arms, twirling her about before setting her down and taking her hands in his once again. “Marry me, my darling friend, be my wife and my companion in all things.”
“Yes!” she nearly shouted. “I will marry you.”
The expression of joy she watched diffuse across his face likely had a match in her own expression. Just when she thought she could not be any happier, her betrothed leaned down and gently brushed his lips against hers.
Far too soon, Darcy pulled back. Elizabeth had only begun to enjoy the sensations his kiss elicited. She was not ready for him to stop. He laughed at her expression, which likely showed her consternation. Watching her, he held his hand up and then began to pull at the fingers of his gloves.
“We should return to the assembly, but first,” he whispered after both gloves had been removed and tossed to the nearby bench.
He laid his bare hands on her cheeks and leaned in for another gentle kiss, and Elizabeth was certain when she opened her eyes she would be waking up from this perfect, astonishing dream.
He then drew her into his arms and deepened the kiss and Elizabeth decided if this was a dream, she would enjoy it as best she could.
Sliding her hands across his shoulders, she twined her fingers behind his neck.
“Elizabeth,” he whispered against her ear.
It sounded like a plea or a prayer. She was eager to answer either way.
A few endless and far too short moments later, Darcy pulled back once more, though his hands remained framing her face.
Elizabeth looked up and, instead of waking to discover it was all a dream, she was greeted with those bright brown eyes smiling down at her.
After allowing herself a few seconds more to enjoy the sight of him looking at her that way, the thrill of his fingers gently caressing her cheeks and the wonderful chaos he created in her, Elizabeth spoke at last. “We should return?”
“Return?” he asked as he brought his lips once more to her ear and began to trace a path to her neck. “Return where?”
Though almost all of her was willing, impatient, to let him continue his attentions, Elizabeth knew they mustn’t stay here any longer.
With a strength she would both admire and curse when she reviewed the events of the evening, she stepped back, ever so slightly.
This seemed to have the desired, or needed, effect.
Darcy shook his head as if clearing it, shaking off a fog.
She understood the feeling and revelled in the evidence that he was as affected as she.
“You are correct, of course,” he said, his formal tone at odds with his dishevelled hair and heated look.
While Darcy reached for his gloves and pulled them on, Elizabeth put herself to rights as much as possible, straightening her gown and smoothing her hair. With no mirror to assist her, she turned to her companion.
“Do I look satisfactory?” and then she teased, “Have I repaired the damage you wrought?”
“You look frustratingly more than satisfactory, Elizabeth, and I quite enjoy seeing the evidence of the damage I thoroughly enjoyed wreaking.”
Darcy’s hands remained at his sides, fists clenching and unclenching, but Elizabeth felt his words like a caress. She blushed even as she responded, “Well, I thank you for the compliment, but you must help me restore anything that is amiss.”
He studied her for a moment, and she thrilled at the look of appreciation.
“You are perfect,” he assured her even as he tucked a piece of hair behind her ear. When he held his arm, she took it, but he made no move to lead them towards the courtyard doors. Instead, he covered her hand on his arm with his and then leaned down to press a gentle, lingering kiss on her lips.
“I know we must go. I just had to make certain it was not a dream.”
“I have had the very same concern since you first found me out here,” Elizabeth laughed. “Let us determine that if it is a dream, we will stay in it together.”
“A wonderful plan. I agree entirely.”
After one last kiss they returned to the assembly rooms. While Elizabeth danced several dances with the gentlemen who had previously solicited her hand, Darcy planted himself on the edge of the dance floor and watched her until the final set.
Mr. Bingley had requested that particular set after they danced their first together.
However, when the opening notes sounded and he found her, Darcy by his side, he begged to be excused.
“If it would not be too inconvenient for my friend here to take my place,” Bingley explained.
“I seem to have twisted my ankle in the last and would be grateful for the reprieve.” He made absolutely no attempt to hide his amusement or so much as feign the injury he claimed when he walked away.
Darcy led Elizabeth to the floor, and they took their place in the set.
For a full fifteen minutes, they said nothing. Finally, as they waited for the second dance of the set to begin, Elizabeth said, “I believe we must have some conversation, Mr. Darcy. You are a singularly silent dancer. Have we not already canvassed this failing?”
“What you wish me to say will be said, Miss Elizabeth, I assure you,” he answered.
“That reply will do at present, but sir, I expect you to make the next attempt.”
“We could speak of books. I am curious to know what you have been reading of late,” he suggested before they parted down the line.
“No—I cannot talk of books in a ballroom; my head is always full of something else,” she said when they next came together.
“The present always occupies you in such scenes—does it?” said he with a look of doubt.
“Yes, always,” she replied, without knowing what she said, for her thoughts had wandered far from the subject, far from the present and back to a very particular place and a very particular moment, or moments, in time from the not-so-distant past.
He laughed even as he gave a very doubtful look.
After the dance as the musicians packed up their instruments and everyone began to move towards the doors, Darcy pulled Elizabeth to one side.
“I will speak with your father tomorrow.” Her heart thrilled at this, even though she had expected it.
His next words were almost too much to bear.
“I find I cannot abide the thought of waiting until the proper calling hour to see you. Will you meet me on the path between Netherfield and Longbourn in the morning?”
The crush of people swelled just then, but before they were separated, she assured him she would be there.
Darcy and Elizabeth’s reunion the following morning was exactly what one might have expected.
Between loving embraces and passionate kisses, they talked and planned.
They planned for that morning when Darcy would seek Mr. Bennet’s blessing and how they would tell their family and friends.
Elizabeth laughed at what she imagined would be Miss Bingley’s shock and horror.
Darcy assured her that though he could not predict the lady’s horror, she would at least not be shocked.
The slight blush on his cheeks as he spoke heightened Elizabeth’s curiosity, and she insisted on hearing the tale.
“It was after we left Pemberley last summer,” he said as they began to walk once again. “After dinner one evening, Bingley began to tease me about you, as had become his custom.”
“I want more details on that at a later time,” Elizabeth laughed.
“Perhaps I could be persuaded,” he smiled down at her before stealing a kiss and continuing his tale. “This turned into a discussion of your attributes—Miss Bingley led the way.”
“I bet she did. Shall you tell me what Miss Bingley thinks of me? I am certain I could guess.”
“No doubt, but no, the tale you demanded requires you hear what someone else had to say about you that evening.”
“That someone being?”
“Me,” Darcy replied with a rueful smile. “I am afraid that my need to contradict Miss Bingley’s very incorrect opinion regarding your suitability, your intelligence and your beauty may have given me away. After that, she did not speak of you again.”
Elizabeth blushed as she imagined an impassioned Darcy telling the spiteful Miss Bingley how well he thought of her. She could almost hear the emotion in his voice and see the flash in his eye.
“My heroic defender,” she declared with an exaggerated sigh.
“A role I will gladly fill for the rest of our lives.”
For the remainder of the time the couple allowed themselves, before Elizabeth returned to Longbourn to await Darcy’s call, they returned to earnest conversation and planning for a happy future. Mostly.
As Darcy had somewhat begrudgingly agreed that Elizabeth could share the news with Georgiana when she told her sisters, Elizabeth sought them out immediately upon her arrival back at Longbourn.
Fortuitously, Lydia, Kitty and Mrs. Bennet were just setting off to visit Mrs. Phillips when Elizabeth came back downstairs after changing into her day dress.
After bidding them goodbye, she went through to the front parlour and found all of those she had wanted.
“You look quite happy about something, Lizzy,” Georgiana observed. “Could your dance with my brother have anything to do with that?”
“Perhaps it is connected to their joint disappearance just prior to that dance,” Mary ventured.
Elizabeth’s surprise at her quiet sister’s teasing prevented an immediate response. When Jane spoke, Elizabeth was certain she would admonish the others.
“Indeed, I noted that neither of them was seen after the fourth set until they danced together at the end of the evening. What are we to make of this long absence, dear sister?”
Though she wanted to pout and exclaim at their mocking, Elizabeth simply could not contain her happiness and was nearly desperate for them to share in it.
“Mr. Darcy and I did have a conversation of great import during the time you noted our absence,” she said with exaggerated gravity.
“And what was the content of this important discussion?” Georgiana asked, trying to match Elizabeth’s indifferent tone but barely concealing her excitement.
“I do not recall all that was said,” she blatantly lied, prolonging the moment just a little bit. “We spoke of chestnut trees, my imagination and Mr. John Robertson, I believe.”
“John Robertson!” Mary and Georgiana exclaimed.
“Elizabeth.” Jane had apparently saved her voice of admonishment for her. “Do be serious.”
“You all started it,” she retorted before taking a deep breath. “Very well, Mr. Darcy has proposed and I have accepted.”
The joy she felt was reflected in the reactions of her sisters and friend. Jane reached for her hand as she started to cry. Mary hugged her fiercely. Georgiana sat quietly for a moment.
“I knew that he loved you,” she said.
“Was it when you heard his ardent defence of me to Miss Bingley when you first knew?” Elizabeth asked.
“No, although I am glad he told you about that. He was quite fierce. Miss Bingley did not know what to do with his fervency.”
After they relayed the story to Mary and Jane, who were quite impressed with their future brother’s gallantry, Elizabeth pressed Georgiana, “If not then, when did you know?”
“You will think me silly,” she demurred.
“I doubt that,” Mary offered. “Lizzy will no doubt delight in hearing when Mr. Darcy’s love became obvious to you, and then perhaps we can all share about when we knew because I assure you, dear sister, it was not this morning when you told us of his proposal.”
They all laughed at this, including Elizabeth, who, though blushing furiously, was entirely delighted.
“Very well, I will tell you,” Georgiana said after they had gotten a hold of themselves once again.
“It was when we arrived at Longbourn. I was seated across from William in the carriage, and I watched his countenance light up in a way that reminded me so sharply of how I remembered my parents looking at one another – that look between them is one of my only and my strongest memory of my mother. It was happiness and contentment, joy and hope. I can’t describe it any better, but in that moment, I did not understand why William was wearing that expression.
Not until I turned and saw your family was visible, waiting to greet us.
You stood a little apart and his eyes remained fixed on you until we came to a stop, that expression unwavering. ”
Elizabeth had tears in her eyes when she reached for Georgiana and pulled her friend into her arms.
“Thank you for sharing that with me.”
As they waited for his call, the ladies spoke of all manner of things related to Darcy and Elizabeth, from their first meeting to his proposal.
Before the hour for callers arrived, Elizabeth excused herself to speak with her father, feeling he deserved some warning before a young man asked him for her hand.
Like her sisters and Georgiana, he was far less surprised than she imagined he would be.