Chapter 10
Elizabeth held her breath, waiting to hear an explanation.
But she knew she really wasn't angry, not anymore, anyway—she was mostly relieved to see him again, knowing his presence here could only mean one thing and one thing only: that nothing had changed between them since their time together at Pemberley.
He looked at her anxiously, and Elizabeth put a gentle hand on his arm.
"Darcy," she said, calling him by a more personal address, which she had never done before, "I am not angry.
I merely want to understand how it is you came to play such a role in it all.
You—you weren't even here last autumn. How is it you could have been so influential in your friend's decision to suddenly leave?
Why—why would you ever advise such an ungentlemanly thing to do? "
She spoke in a soft tone, not a harsh one, and she could tell that the use of a more familiar address had softened things, too—his shoulders had relaxed, his eyes had lost a little of their worry.
He took a deep breath and slowly began to explain.
She removed her hand from his shoulder, her heart pounding from touching him so intimately, and they resumed walking while he explained it all.
He admitted to receiving two letters from Miss Bingley, and he worried not so much about the supposed impropriety or lack of dowry and connections the Bennets had, but the idea that Jane didn't truly love his friend.
"It was foolish of me to assume anything Miss Bingley had to say was even true," he said sheepishly, "but truly, I was only concerned when she claimed that your sister had no affection for him.
I worried he might fall into a loveless marriage, and I had to do something before my friend fell into such straits. "
Elizabeth smiled weakly. "But how on earth could you possibly believe anything out of the likes of Miss Bingley's mouth?"
Darcy shook his head. "I do not really know. I suppose that I assumed she breached propriety by writing me letters due only to the desperate urgency of the matter. Perhaps that swayed my understanding. It hadn't occurred to me she would do all of that, and exaggerate still."
"Exaggerate?” Elizabeth could scarcely contain a scoff. “Why, she outright lied to you."
Darcy looked at her, and then his gaze trailed away, looking after their companions, who were far off ahead of them. "How would you say your sister's reaction was to Bingley arriving today?"
Elizabeth furrowed her brow, wondering what he was getting at. "Why, she was overwhelmed to see him, of course. She was blushing and looking very embarrassed, indeed—"
"She did not appear so to me," he interrupted quietly. Elizabeth paused, allowing him to continue. He smiled at her slightly.
"I was saying,” he went on, “To me, she did not appear as you describe. But, you know her much better than I, so perhaps you are more attuned to the subtle expressions of your sister. Others observing her, however—like myself, or even Miss Bingley—might miss such things. Miss Bingley might have truly believed that your sister paid her brother no special mind, but—” here he paused, sighing a little, “She did exaggerate, I must admit, especially about your family.
She over emphasized their shortcomings, and I was mistaken if I believed any of that, which I soon learned after meeting you in Derbyshire.
But in my mistake, I wrote to Bingley and advised him to return to London before things got too out of hand.
Granted, he did not have to take my advice, but it doesn't change the fact that he did.”
Darcy paused again and gazed at her in earnest. “And for that, I hope you will accept my apology. This is why I have brought Bingley back—to hopefully remedy the mistake I so dreadfully made, all that time ago...if it's not too late, that is."
Elizabeth felt herself reacting to everything he was saying. It was a lot to comprehend, and she was trying not to become angry. His softness rather than sternness of tone did help, somewhat; she could readily tell that he meant it when he said he was sorry.
As she thought about what he said regarding Jane, a memory popped into her head.
"Maybe you are right about Jane,” she said slowly, “My dear friend Charlotte once warned me that Jane should show more affection, and I dismissed her. It seems that perhaps I should have listened to her."
They walked along in some silence, with Elizabeth wondering what would come next. She enjoyed his closeness, him being here with her, and she knew she never wanted to leave his side.
She decided to tell him that.
"Darcy—I mean, Mr. Darcy, forgive me—"
"Please, you can call me that,” he said softly, “I like it very much."
"You do?"
"Yes."
They stopped walking, and he looked at her in earnest. She felt her heart beating faster under his gaze, his eyes trained on her intensely. She swallowed, and her eyes traced his face, stopping on his lips, and immediately she wondered what it would be like to kiss him—
"Can I call you Elizabeth?" he asked quietly, and the next thing she knew, his hand was brushing a loose tendril of hair from her face.
She felt herself nodding ever so slightly, the word yes softly escaping her lips without any conscious effort at all.
They gazed at one another, and she felt herself getting lost in his eyes.
Then he parted his lips and asked, "Elizabeth, will you marry me?"
Her heart seemed to freeze, and her ability to speak slowed to an absolute stop.
Had she heard him correctly? She felt her head nodding slightly again, and this time, he smiled at her, tucking her hair behind her ear one more time before surprising her as he gently cradled her chin, tipping her head up toward his and leaning in closely.
"May I kiss you?" he asked.
Here, she recovered her ability to answer: "Yes."
His lips were on hers then, and she unconsciously closed her eyes, losing herself in the feel of it all.
He kissed her slowly but warmly, making butterflies flutter inside her, beneath his gentle touch, one hand of his gently holding her face, the other coming up around her to the small of her back, bringing her in slightly closer to him.
Her heart began to pound as she started to kiss him in return, unsure of her movements but feeling safe in the arms of Darcy, regardless.
They kissed for only a moment, but it was a moment everlasting.
He pulled away from her slowly and gently, their hearts now beating in tandem. His eyes were brighter now, but there was still an intense look in his gaze as he asked in a breathless whisper, "You will marry me, and be my wife?"
She finally smiled, nodding fully and doing something she never quite expected: she threw her arms around his neck and cried out, "Yes, Darcy, yes."
He held her in an embrace for what felt like forever. She never wanted to leave his arms—her dream about their wonderful time at Pemberley hadn't been a dream at all.