Chapter 13 #2
“Your behaviour? No – no indeed. I should not have used such strong words, but I admit it hurt me that you refused to even discuss the possibility of marrying me. I had hoped that your feelings had changed … improved since that night when we talked in the Netherfield library, but I had to bear the same rejection. I might be arrogant, I might have assumed more than I deserve. If so–I apologise again.”
Elizabeth looked at him doubtfully. She put the cup down and rose, taking a step towards him.
“Mr. Darcy, I did not refuse to marry you because I despise you–quite the opposite. You said you met the same rejections from me – but how can you doubt that my reasons are utterly different? This is precisely why I cannot enter into a forced marriage with you!”
He was now completely lost and she continued with growing emotion.
“Worse than marrying a man you cannot admire and respect, is to do so, being aware that man is bound to you by unfortunate circumstances! You refused to marry your own cousin whom you care for, at the request of her mother. How can you marry a woman you are barely acquainted with, that you hardly even like, at the request of her mother and some stupid rules of propriety? I will never accept such an occurrence! And I do not wish to discuss this silly mishap ever again!”
As she lost her temper and the torment made her heedless of her own words, Elizabeth saw Darcy’s figure becoming lighter.
He listened in silence, nodded, even tried to temper her with a gesture of his hand.
She thought he pitied her and was attempting to calm her.
As the future sister of his friend, probably feeling guilty for the unpleasant situation caused by Bingley, Darcy was compassionate towards her childish outburst.
His solicitous response only increased her distress and mortification.
To Darcy, Elizabeth’s words and her growing turmoil had the opposite effect than she imagined.
Her torment, her nervousness, close to apparent despair, the redness that covered her cheeks and her neck, her distressed features, made him finally see the truth that he had not dared to admit.
And he wished for nothing more than to put his arms around her, to explain to her how utterly wrong she had been, and that a marriage to her was not the ruin but the saving of his life and his unexpected chance for a blissful future.
She continued to speak hastily, her eyes blurred by emotion, her fists tightening in an unknown personal battle.
“Miss Bennet…”
“No ‘Miss Bennet,’ Mr. Darcy. Neither duty nor honour has any possible claim on a mere incident! It is as if I walk on the road, fall down, and someone helps me to my feet. Will I have to wed that person? This is ludicrous! No principle would be violated if such marriage did not happen. With my mother, things have been cleared up and she knows my decision will not be changed. If someone else finds out about this happenstance, I hope they will have enough sense to mock it. If not–I pity them and they do not deserve any concern of mine! I will not ruin your life–and mine–to satisfy some imaginary demand of society! Enough is enough!”
“Miss Bennet,” he said again, moving forward. He was now only inches away from her. She took a step back, towards the window. The cold winter sun lit her face and sunshine played in her hair.
He gently took her hand in his; the touch startled and burned her. She looked at him in silence and wonder.
“Miss Bennet, if I truly grasped your meaning properly, if you do not reject the notion of marrying me because you dread it, but because you assume I dread it, allow me to assure you that you could not be more wrong. Is this true? Is this the reason for your distress?”
“It is,” she admitted, fighting her tears and angry with herself for losing her composure so easily.
“I am glad that this time I was not wrong in my estimation. How is it possible that two people, with sense and education, who have lived in the world, are so ill qualified to understand each other?”
Elizabeth had said too much earlier and found nothing to reply now. She stood still, listening more to his voice than to his words, hoping for him to explain more clearly in what way she had been wrong and why her hand was still resting in his.
“When the library door locked us in, it gave me the chance to discover your honest opinion of me and humbled my arrogance. It helped me to know you and myself.”
“My true opinion?” she asked hesitantly. “But what did you believe until then?”
“That you were partial to me. That you admired me as much as I admired you. That you recognised my attentions and welcomed them. What will you now say about my vanity?”
Elizabeth felt so utterly dumbfounded that she was reluctant to acknowledge what she comprehended from his astonishing statement.
“Your attentions? What do you mean, sir? I always felt that you only looked at me to find fault–and everyone who knew us shared the same opinion.”
“I am aware of that now. And I dare say everybody was wrong. What I did not find the courage to confess to you in the library was my true opinion about you. My true feelings for you. I am doing it now, with my heart aching and my mind fearing that I might be rejected.”
“I do not understand,” Elizabeth whispered.
“Or perhaps I do, but I cannot trust my judgement. I was certain that being locked in the library changed our acquaintance both for you and for me. That once we came to know each other better, we might despise each other less. I was so surprised when you spoke of a marriage of convenience, as I thought it would be the worst punishment for you. I thought your sense of duty fought with your deeply rooted dislike of me.”
“I have never despised you, Miss Bennet. Not for a single moment. Almost from the beginning of our acquaintance your manners captivated me, your wit conquered me and your kindness impressed me. Your image filled my days and my nights, and I thought of you, I dreamed of you too many times to even count. I had not known you a month before I felt that you were the only woman in the world whom I could easily be prevailed upon to marry.”
“What are you saying? This cannot be true,” she murmured again, amazed, incredulous, and hopeful. She frowned, watching him intently, struggling to read his thoughts in the darkness of his gaze.
“But it is true, I assure you…”
“How can this be? You hardly spoke to me, and when you did, you were always aloof and severe. Why would your manners be so different from your feelings?”
“Because I have been a fool; until that night in the library I fought with my own heart and I did everything in my power to conceal my emotions and my desires. For a long while, I was certain that my duty required me to make a more…advantageous marriage, in terms of connections and situation in life. And, being certain you returned my affection, I tried to avoid raising hopes that would be soon shattered… So I kept as much distance as I could…from you…”
“This I can easily believe…That you wished to make a better marriage. And yet, you insisted on offering marriage to me–and to my father…”
“Yes…because I was a coward! I took the opportunity offered by our situation in the library as a sign, as an inducement of fate to bind myself to you, in spite of all my endeavours. And when I faced your honest yet decided rejection, and your mockery over my concern about your ruined reputation, I was awakened from a tormenting dream. I had to bear the grief of losing what I knew to be my chance for happiness before I had the chance of fighting for it.”
“So what do you imply, Mr. Darcy? That you would have proposed to me even without this predicament? This is all so unreal…I never imagined…”
“I cannot be certain…I may well have left Hertfordshire trying to forget you, and never had the chance of carrying on a real conversation with you. Or perhaps I would have met you again in the future, either in London, or visiting your cousin at Hunsford and my feelings, instead of fading, would have grown and overcome any opposition…”
Elizabeth listened to him, mesmerized. He gently took her other hand, looking at her carefully for any sign of opposition, then brought their joined hands to his chest.
“I can only guess what the future would have been. But of the past and the present, about my feelings and my desires, I have no doubts. I am fearful to ask of yours, but I shall.”
She forced a smile and nodded, still incredulous, wondering if she was dreaming.
“Miss Bennet, in vain I have struggled for days and nights, week after week. My feelings would not be repressed. You must allow me to tell you how ardently I admire and love you and how strong my hope is that you will accept my hand, not because we found ourselves locked in the library, not because of the danger of some harmful rumours, not because of the demands of duty, not because of my family or yours – but despite all those things.”
Elizabeth’s eyes sparkled with mirth and tears of joy and, with her hands warmed in his and resting on his chest, she struggled to speak.
His scent, his nearness, his strength were the only proof that she was not imagining this.
She was there, in her father’s library, listening to Mr. Darcy as he proposed to her, offering her more than she had ever dreamed of.
Not his hand, not his fortune, not his connections, but his admiration and his love.
His ardent love that she never suspected until that day.
“Mr. Darcy, until a week ago, I could never imagine even having a reasonable conversation with you. I have never desired your good opinion. I admit I suspected you of disapproving of Charles’ relationship with Jane and trying to separate them.
I thought you were well-educated and handsome, but arrogant and conceited.
And if I considered the men I could have married, you were among the last of them.
Until I locked myself with you in the library and that accident unlocked my mind and my heart to you–you have conquered them both. ”
“Have I?” he asked hoarsely, gently lowering his head until his lips tantalised her wrists.
“You have indeed,” she replied. I have fantasised about you so many times that even now I fear I am dreaming. But if it is a dream, I will live it to the fullest and I will say yes, with all my heart, that I have lost to you without even knowing it.”
“Have you?” he asked again, his lips moving along the back of her hands then lingering on her palms.
The touch of his lips–never felt before–burned her skin and spread waves of warmth inside her. He released her hands and his arms embraced her with sweet, gentle strength.
“I have,” she replied, leaning against him. “I was in the middle of it before I knew that I had begun.”
His hands cupped her face and lifted it to meet his eyes.
“And now you are here, in my arms, where you belong,” he said. His thumbs caressed her face and she closed her eyes, waiting for him to seal their painfully reached, complete understanding.
And he did so, capturing her soft lips with his mouth and teaching her the first lesson of what ardent love meant.
She was finally in his arms and in his life, where she belonged.