Chapter Twenty-One
That evening, Elizabeth had the joy of announcing her engagement to Mr. Darcy to all of Sanditon; the banns were to be called in church the very next morning, the morning of Lady Catherine’s departure from their lives. She was blessedly absent from the happy occasion when Elizabeth and Mr. Darcy enjoyed the congratulations of all who knew them.
The newly betrothed couple soaked up the felicitations of all their friends, relations, and new acquaintance; the exultant, cheerful atmosphere felt like something out of a dream. The excitement of their engagement made the couple incredibly popular amongst the rotating diners. Fortunately, this supper offered four courses rather than three; Darcy and Elizabeth’s table saw a constant flux of well-wishers, most of whom insisted they had known all along how it would turn out.
“I knew as soon as I saw the pair of you together,” Mrs. Jennings cried. “You are both so handsome, and with such a look of cleverness about you! I can only hope your joy gives Marianne a taste for romance!”
Marianne, of course, protested this vehemently, though the tears of joy that shone in her eyes and her frequent sighs of wistful admiration betrayed her romantic nature. She was still in awe of Mr. Darcy, but delighted to have found a friend in Georgiana.
The colonel and Georgiana were perhaps the happiest of all, aside from Elizabeth and Mr. Darcy, for they felt not only the joy of gaining such an agreeable new relation, but the satisfaction of having brought the blessed event about through their own endeavors. The Knightleys, too, were delighted that Mr. Darcy had made what Emma boldly declared was “the only sane choice” in choosing Elizabeth, and looked forward to welcoming the Darcys to Donwell someday, promising to throw a house party in the autumn for all the happy couples present – and, Emma added with an air of intrigue, “Any other couples that may become attached over the course of this summer.”
The Bingleys declared themselves equally elated, for Charles and Mr. Darcy were to be brothers after all, and Jane had long wished that Elizabeth might find the same happiness in marriage that she had known. “And Papa must come to Sanditon at last – how he shall grumble,” Jane teased her sister. “Our stepmother and sisters will be delighted, though!”
This prompted even more celebration and speculation from Mrs. Jennings and Emma, for there were three more unmarried Bennet sisters to benefit from their aid and the invigorating airs, which must excite their passions. Even Lady Denham took an interest in this revelation, declaring her wicked curiosity to see the relations that had made Elizabeth the strange and cheeky creature she was. “And you need not fear Sir Anthony taking a shine to one or all of your sisters, Miss Lizzy, and becoming your brother by marriage – not with the lovely Lady Rebecca come amongst us!”
Charlotte took the liberty of teasing her friends that some relation to Sir Anthony may be inevitable, and reminded them that Sir Thomas still had three unwed siblings with better morals, if not superior charms, than Sir Sidney. “I must beg Mrs. Jennings and Mrs. Knightley to think of poor Arthur, Diana, and Susan,” she lamented. “Sidney means to sell the cottage orné, and then they shall all come to live at Trafalgar House.”
Like the rest of Elizabeth and Mr. Darcy’s friends and relations, Charlotte could not resist claiming her share of predicting the outcome and helping to bring it about, though to this she added a sense of tremendous relief that it had not all gone awry. She was not completely serious in encouraging the matchmaking schemes that were sure to progress throughout the summer, but even Elizabeth shared her friend’s bemusement at the village’s collective demand for more romance.
Even Sir Edward was not immune to this atmosphere. Elizabeth had not seen him so merry since her aunt was still alive. Her uncle laughed at every jest, teasingly encouraged every scheme of Emma and Mrs. Jennings, and watched his two nieces and their gentlemen with proud adoration. He also watched Lady Margaret a great deal, and though he continued to stumble over his words in the presence of the beautiful dowager countess, this did not at all deter him from complimenting and conversing with her at every opportunity.
The dowager countess was a magnificent creature, with none of the pride Lady Catherine, a woman of lower rank, espoused. The more Elizabeth spoke to Lady Margaret, the better she liked the woman, and she had taken the great lady’s wish to serve as a mother figure to heart. That Lady Margaret clearly enjoyed the flustered attentions of Sir Edward only endeared her further to Elizabeth.
Mrs. Bevan also sought out the newly betrothed couple. Unlike so many of their companions who took pride in having known all along how well it would turn out for Elizabeth and Mr. Darcy, the authoress owned to being nearly as anxious over the false courtship as Elizabeth herself had been. But this evening she was all smiles for her young friends, and was frequently scribbling away with a little pencil in her ever-present notebook of inspiration. By the end of the night, all the principal citizens of Sanditon felt themselves very likely to appear in the next great Bevan novel.
Emboldened by her mother’s downfall, Anne de Bourgh chose to attend the dinner with her companion Penelope Lovelace, while Lady Catherine frantically packed their possessions and prepared to slither back to Rosings.
By the fourth and final course, Miss de Bourgh managed to claim a seat at the highly sought after table where Elizabeth and Mr. Darcy had remained all evening, enjoying the rotating influx of jubilant friends. She sat beside Elizabeth, trembling under the watchful eyes of Lady Margaret, Sir Edward, Georgiana, and the colonel.
“I believe my cousin Darcy has told you all,” she said to Elizabeth.
“He has.” Elizabeth had no wish to be cruel to the poor creature, whom she believed had suffered enough. There may never exist any warmth or camaraderie between them after how ill she had used Darcy, but Elizabeth felt only compassion for the fear and bitterness that had fueled Miss de Bourgh’s desperate charade.
“To what he has told you, I must add my apologies. All I can say in my own defense is that, beyond wishing to protect myself, I cherished some hope of reuniting him with the woman who wrote him such movingly affectionate letters. I saw you as a threat to that woman, before I knew that you and she were one and the same – it is the most amazing coincidence.”
“That is a lovely sentiment.” Elizabeth smiled appreciatively at Miss de Bourgh, choosing not to comment on the woman’s frequent derision and deliberate misunderstanding of her social station and situation in life. If Lady Catherine had made her daughter a little cruel and selfish, she was more to be pitied than admonished for it, after what she had endured?
“Did he also tell you of what transpired when he confronted my mother?” Here Miss de Bourgh smirked; beside her, Miss Lovelace began to cough.
“He painted quite a picture, and I understand the colonel may have a few bruises adorning his face come tomorrow.”
Across the table, Colonel Fitzwilliam snorted with laughter. “I can dodge French bullets well enough – vases and bookends are another matter.”
“I still have a handprint on my face, I am sure,” Mr. Darcy drawled.
Lady Margaret let out a sigh, as if recalling a cherished memory. “I shall never forget the way she begged on her knees, at the end of her tantrum.”
“That part was most satisfactory,” Miss de Bourgh agreed. “And of course, we will pay for the hotel property that was damaged, and any medical aid my cousins require. I have also agreed to a plan for Rosings to gradually repay the sum that mother siphoned from Pemberley. I am ashamed to have profited from it.”
Elizabeth nodded graciously, unsure why Miss de Bourgh seemed suddenly eager to curry favor with her. Over the rest of dessert, Miss de Bourgh continued to converse amiably with Elizabeth, Mr. Darcy, and all their relations. It was fascinating to Elizabeth to behold such a shift in the lady’s character, which she supposed must be due to Lady Catherine’s drastic humbling. The tyrant had been deposed, and the young woman freed from her mother’s control was a little awkward, but generally agreeable.
It was not until after the supper had officially ended that Elizabeth learned the reason for Miss de Bourgh’s efforts. As their companions began to rise from the table and mill about, the guests all saying lengthy goodbyes as often happened after the Saturday Supper, Miss de Bourgh laid a hand on Elizabeth’s arm to stay her. “There is something else I would like to say to you, privately.”
Elizabeth nodded her assent and moved her chair a little closer to Miss de Bourgh. “I would be happy to hear you.”
“Thank you. In addition to the proper apology I owe you, and the tremendous sum I owe Darcy, there is something else I would like to give you both. As I presume you are aware, I have my reasons for wishing never to marry; this means I will never have children of my own. But you and Darcy shall have many, I am sure – I heard that you are one of nine? I had thought Mr. Collins said it was five – but I digress. You possess an enviable quantity of sisters, and will likely have daughters. I intend to leave Rosings Park to them, however many there may be, equally. It has been a long time since Rosings was the home of any happy women. I intend to change that, with my mother removed to the dower house, and wish it to be a tradition that is carried on.”
Elizabeth’s eyes misted with tears at the generous gesture of goodwill. “Generations of heiresses with the safety and security to live the lives they desire. It is a beautiful idea; I cannot tell you how much the thought pleases me. I suppose you know my childhood estate was entailed.”
“I had forgotten,” Miss de Bourgh said, her pensive gaze giving way to mirth. “Lord, how could I forget the day our odious parson learned your father had sired a son? It is fortunate he was unsuccessful in his pursuit of a bride in your family – one of you would have been shackled to him for nothing.”
Elizabeth drew in a sharp breath. “Miss de Bourgh, Mr. Collins is intrinsically linked to the death of my late mother, and it is a subject I dislike.”
Miss de Bourgh’s countenance was crestfallen. “Oh, right. I had forgotten that, too. And the day Darcy arrived, I am sure I made mention of it – I only wished to be snarky to put him off me. I have thought only of myself. I apologize again, Miss Bennet. Truly, I wish to be your friend. I was even going to say that you ought to come visit Rosings from time to time, let your future children come to know the place – but now I fear you will not like the notion.”
It was impossible that such earnest generosity could not affect Elizabeth, and she smiled warmly. “You have been very kind this evening, Miss de Bourgh.”
“I wish to make amends, truly and completely. I have seen tonight for the first time in my life how merry a family gathering might be without my mother to spoil it all. Everyone in your circle is so jolly. In fact, I have rather envied your lively circle. Sir Sidney’s friends once seemed exciting, but they began to grate on me after a while – just as he did.”
Elizabeth laughed. “Knowing now that you did not truly think him the man of your dreams has certainly raised you in my estimation.”
Miss de Bourgh looked at her with hopeful alacrity. “Has it improved your opinion of me enough that you would be pleased if I remained a few weeks longer in Sanditon, while my mother removed to the dower house?”
“Will your mother truly remove from the manor without you there to insist upon it?”
“Aunt Margaret thought of that – she is sending her eldest daughter Lady Roberta to supervise my mother’s removal. Roberta and her husband Lord Moncrief despise my mother.”
“Your aunt is very thorough,” Elizabeth said with bemusement. “I am glad you will be able to content yourself here in Sanditon a while longer – it seems you will be staying for the wedding?”
Miss de Bourgh’s eyes lit with glee. “I would like that very much. Oh, here comes Darcy now. I have not told him about my plan for Rosings. I felt he might decline, but he will surely go along with your decision, which is, I hope, to accept.”
Elizabeth nodded her reassurance. “Unless he has a compelling reason to decline, I would very much like to accept your offer, and the spirit in which it was given.” Her eyes drifted away from Miss de Bourgh as Mr. Darcy came toward them, hastening through the crowd of guests still conversing as they ambled toward the door with little intent of dispersing. He was so terribly handsome, and she was now at liberty to openly admire his impressive person without any mortification. It had been hours since they had stolen a kiss.
“My love, I have a matter of great importance to discuss with you,” Elizabeth said, standing from her seat with a parting nod and smile for Miss de Bourgh.
Mr. Darcy gave her a crooked, confused smile. “I came to say the same to you. I suppose we must speak at once, my love.”
Behind them, Miss de Bourgh snorted with laughter as she began to leave. “The terrace doors are open. Good evening.”
Elizabeth and Mr. Darcy covertly held hands and made a decent show of meandering through the gradually thinning crowd, nodding and giving brief greetings as they meandered in an indirect route to the terrace doors, which were indeed open. The terrace was warm and dimly lit, and it was blessedly empty.
They both burst out laughing as they moved out of sight and embraced. “I missed you,” Elizabeth said.
“After a mere quarter of an hour?”
“Yes, and it put me in mind of a very fine idea.”
“Oh, I should love to hear it,” he said in a throaty voice, his hand caressing her cheek.
“Mr. Darcy, you are incorrigible and now must be made to wait.”
“Minx!”
Elizabeth could wait no longer for another kiss. Determined to tease him, it was a brief and messy kiss, thrilling and promising of more to come. And then she laughed and said, “I must tell you of something else, first – an idea of your cousin’s.”
“Oh.” In the flickering light of the torches that had not yet extinguished, Mr. Darcy’s countenance turned serious. “What is it?”
“She wishes to leave Rosings to our daughters, collectively.”
He blinked, then slowly stroked her arms as he considered her words. “I think it is a generous notion, yet I fear she may come to reconsider it, for it may be twenty years before….” A heady silence fell as they leaned toward one another, each no doubt considering that they would someday have children. Many, many children.
“I like it,” Elizabeth murmured. “That is, I am pleased by her offer. I accepted it. The way she spoke, I do not think her likely to waver from the plan; it seemed to bring her some peace. And growing up all my life believing Longbourn would be entailed….”
Mr. Darcy kissed her forehead when her voice grew thick with emotion. “I will do everything to protect and provide for you, and for our children. Pemberley will be grand again, someday, and we will make a merry family, all of us.”
Elizabeth laughed. “You have met the rest of my relations! Are they included in this scheme for familial felicity?”
“Certainly! Your brother will be at school with our sons, surely one of your fifty-seven sisters will do for Richard, the Bingleys will no doubt have ten children and I shall teach them all how to speak Latin very ill. Our daughters may divide their summers between Rosings with Aunt Anne and the seaside – surely Sanditon – with their Aunt Georgie.”
Elizabeth grinned at this vision of the future. There was much for them to plan for the immediate days to come, such as when they would wed and where they would live, but for the moment she was delighted to see him so animated. She kissed him again, the slow and tender kiss she had craved since parting with him that afternoon.
Mr. Darcy held her close to him, his fingers tangling in her hair until they parted. “There is something I must do, first.” And then he dropped to one knee. He pulled a ring from his pocket and placed it on her finger.
“I have feared my love for you was in vain, but knowing that I need not repress my feelings any longer has been a joy beyond any I have ever imagined. I love you, Elizabeth, and I have since your very first letter. Since our first meeting at the hotel, I have been enchanted by your kindness, your wit, your bright spirit. I wish to spend the rest of my days admiring you most ardently, if you would consent to be my wife.”
“Of course I shall,” Elizabeth said, throwing her arms around his neck when he stood. “But I am sorry I cannot tell everybody that you proposed when I was seated in your lap.”
He chuckled. “Pray, tell anybody but Mrs. Bevan.”
“I whispered it to her during the third course.”
“Minx,” he said again, spinning her in his arms. “And now will you tell me this idea of yours?”
“Only if you promise to agree to it,” Elizabeth teased.
“I would by no means suspend any pleasure of yours.”
“Monday is the solstice, the longest day of the year. Sixteen hours of blissful sunshine we shall have, and I wish us to spend them all together.”
“Wonderful. I agree,” he said at once, laughing gently. “What shall we do?”
“A great deal, I should imagine,” Elizabeth drawled. “I thought we might begin the day with a walk along the beach. You will not mistake me for Miss de Bourgh this time, I trust.”
He laughed at her allusion to their encounter on the beach the day after his arrival. “But I may still try to take you in my arms.”
Elizabeth leaned her head against his shoulder. “How very tempting.”