24. 24 November 1811
ELIZABETH
The next morning Mr Darcy called on the Nicholls house in High Cross.
Elizabeth had been coming down the stairs when he arrived, and she peeped at him through the balusters. He was dressed even more beautifully than usual. She heard him ask if he could have a private talk with Miss Elizabeth Bennet in order to ask a very important question.
Mrs Nicholls seemed thrilled. She led him to a parlour, and when she returned to the hall, Elizabeth presented herself and was led to the same room.
“Good morning, Elizabeth,” he said with a solemn face.
She returned the greeting and could not help but smile her cheekiest smile.
His own smile appeared. He asked, “Are you still feeling gratitude, Miss Elizabeth?”
She thought quickly. Naturally, she was still grateful to Mr Darcy—and she suspected she always would.
Mr Darcy did so many thoughtful and romantic things, so many considerate and kind things, they sort of piled up.
By the time she managed to stop being grateful for one thing, he had done ten other amazing things.
Still, she said, “I feel no gratitude to you whatsoever, Mr Darcy.”
“Excellent,” he said. He took both of her hands in his. “Do you feel fear of your father’s words or actions?”
She laughed. “No. I have no emotions at all regarding my father’s words and deeds.”
“Better and better. Do you, perchance, feel pressure to do things you do not wish to do or to say things that you do not wish to say?”
He was practically clutching her hands now, pressing her fingers quite hard, and she said, “I do not, but I do feel pressure on my hands.”
He dropped her hands, staring down at her reddened fingers. “Oh, dearest, I apologise. I suppose that I am nervous.”
Elizabeth laughed again and took his hands in hers. While he gathered his wits, she lifted one hand, kissed his knuckles, and then lifted and kissed the other. “Better?” she asked.
He nodded, squared his shoulders, gulped in some air, and began: “Miss Elizabeth Bennet, when I first spied you, it was less than a day after I had made a list of traits and accomplishments I deemed necessary in the lady who would become Mrs Darcy.
I had such world-shakingly important items as that she be respectable, elegant, and modest about her extensive accomplishments in singing, playing instruments, and knowing the modern languages.
“You stepped into the breakfast room looking more wind-blown than elegant, and your hem more muddied than I had ever spied on a respectable lady. And yet, the very things that ought to have counted against you seemed to my newly-opened eyes to be points in your favour. You obviously were physically strong, to have walked from a neighbouring estate; you obviously were caring and loyal, to have come so far on behalf of your sister. You cared more about others’ comfort than about others’ opinions of you.
It was immediately apparent to me that the traits I saw before me were more important than most of the traits on that wrong-headed list.
“I admit that there was also some mysterious something about you that fascinated me, making me wish to know you more strongly than I had ever wished to know another.
I do not know if that could be labeled love at first sight, but I was definitely intrigued at first sight.
Being interested, I sought further knowledge of you.
I wished to talk to you, to see you in different situations, to know you better.
“Everything that I discovered about you confirmed what I seemed to feel, deep inside me even from our first meeting: I respect your intelligence, I admire your sense of humour, I love your compassion and kindness, and I yearn for your loveliness. Will you make me the happiest of men and consent to be my wife?”
“Oh my!” Elizabeth breathed. “I—yes, Mr Darcy, I will marry you. I will be your wife.”
“I have the marriage articles, so I suppose that I should go to your father. Do you think it will be acceptable if I arrive before polite calling hours? I hope, in that way, that I will not have to have an audience of all my relations when I meet with him.”
“Yes, but I hope that I will be going as well.”
“Of course. If all goes well, you can stay at Longbourn until the wedding. That would be your preference, would it not?”
“Yes, it is. But first….” She popped up on her toes, gave him a peck on the lips, and settled down right away. She said, “When I saw you riding towards the house from my guest room window, I asked the maids to start packing, and Mrs Annesley said she would call for the carriage to be ready.”
“I love that you trust me to do what I promise to do.”
“And I love you,” she replied.
“You do?” Mr Darcy looked delighted, but also a bit surprised.
“Yes. I love you. It seems odd to me that such high regard can bloom so quickly—and I did truly think I needed time for such feelings to grow—but I know now that I wish more than anything that you are happy, and my second most fervent wish is that we be together, in every possible way. That you feel the exact same thing about me makes it obvious that we should be together, legally and spiritually and physically, in name and home and family.”
“May I kiss you,” he asked, “despite the horse smell?”
“I already kissed you, remember? And you smelt more of sandalwood and soap than horse.”
“That was not a kiss,” Darcy said. “This is.” He cradled her arm and back in one hand, her head and neck in his other, and he pulled her close.
His lips were warm and somehow both firm and soft.
His tongue delicately touched her own and then suckled it.
His mouth was an entire world to explore, a world that tasted of apple and coffee… .
Elizabeth struggled to catch her breath. Finally, she said, “Ohh, my goodness….”
When they recovered from their kiss, Darcy walked out to ensure that Atlas was ready and that the carriage horses were in their traces.
Elizabeth ran back upstairs and looked for anything left behind.
Then she gave fervent thanks to her hosts as Georgiana and Mrs Annesley watched a footman bringing down the trunks and valise that comprised their luggage.
Madison and Becky carried down their own small bags.
Soon the entire group was on its way to Longbourn.