Chapter 18 #2
Darcy was now fully dressed in a nightgown, but the closure was untied, revealing his neck, nothing more. Chills ran down her spine and, with a sudden lump in her throat, she gulped.
“I am glad to hear that,” she replied, in a voice that sounded strange even to herself.
He bowed his head to her again, she sent him a brief smile and exited. She barely breathed again, and her heart pounded in her ears.
∞∞∞
The brief exchange with Darcy strengthened Elizabeth’s trust and aroused her hopes regarding his feelings, so she finally dared to let hers fly freely.
Those few words, so plain, yet with so much intimate meaning to them, coupled with his eloquent glances in the presence of his sister, were proof enough even for her doubtfulness.
She yearned for the opportunity to speak to him more. To clarify all the remaining misunderstandings. To ask him what had happened in the grove. But he was not well enough, nor did she have the right to force a private encounter. She had to wait for the proper opportunity. To have patience.
The Netherfield residents arrived for breakfast, and a joyous gathering sat around the table.
Special courses were sent to Darcy’s room and, while Stevens attended his master’s needs, Dr. Cooper joined the family.
Once the concern for his patient was relieved, the good doctor proved to be pleasant company, with a great inclination towards teasing and making sport of others–a perfect companion to Mr Bennet.
After a proper meal, Mr Bingley proposed an impromptu stroll in the garden for a little beneficial exercise. Jane readily accepted, as did Mrs Annesley and Miss Darcy.
For the first time in a long while, Elizabeth declined and excused herself, preferring to retire to her room.
She felt a bit tired, but mostly exhausted by her own emotions and needed a little restful and quiet private time.
Even the company of those so dear to her became slightly overwhelming, and she took the opportunity to be alone finally.
Yes, taking the right opportunity made all the difference. Just as Darcy said.
However, only several minutes of solitude passed until a knock on the door disturbed her.
At her invitation, Darcy’s valet entered, stepping inside hesitantly, looking at her with apparent embarrassment.
She frowned with worry. “Stevens, what has happened? Is Mr Darcy unwell?”
“No, ma’am. Forgive me for disturbing you, Miss Bennet. The master asked me to deliver this,” Stevens said, handing her a letter. Then the valet bowed again and departed in a hurry, while Elizabeth gazed after him, dumbfounded.
She looked at the paper, holding it tight; it felt like it was burning her hand, and she struggled to catch her breath before opening it. A letter from Darcy?
Elizabeth paced the room for a few moments, then sat on the bed, then moved to the window and returned to the bed again. Finally, she unfolded the letter with trembling fingers and read with excitement and distress.
“Miss Bennet,
I beg you to forgive both the appearance and the content of this letter; I know neither is proper, as both my thoughts and my hand are struggling to write down what my heart feels.
I would rather talk to you personally, but I doubt the opportunity I mentioned earlier will arise anytime soon. And I feel I owe you complete honesty before I take any other steps; I only hope for equal frankness in return.
The subject I wished to discuss with you on the morning of my accident referred to Wickham.
I wanted to warn you of his true character, and afterwards, I intended to talk to Colonel Forster too.
You may wonder why I did not choose a more suitable location to do so, perhaps even at Longbourn.
I trust your father would have gladly allowed us the chance to talk.
But I confess now that I had other subjects–barely declared even to myself–that induced me to prefer a private conversation.
Regarding Wickham, I trust things are now clear to you.
If you need other details, please feel free to ask me directly.
I am deeply thankful to you for the affection and support that you so generously offered to my sister during these days of her painful torment.
She was hurt so deeply by that scoundrel’s betrayal that I feared she would not recover.
And yet, you encouraged her to open her heart and confide in you, releasing the anguish that so undeservingly weighed on her pure soul.
None but you could have done that. You must have a spell that has touched the Darcys most profoundly.
And with that, I will hesitantly move toward the other subjects that I mentioned above, but I am not sure if I should dare to approach them or if you would welcome such a discussion.
Therefore, I will ask before taking any other step and will only do as you please.
I remember you ran through the storm to bring help for me, while you put your coat under my head.
I know you held my hand in the grove, and then several times here, in my chamber, while I fought the fever.
I know you stayed by my side every time you were allowed.
Even in my sleep, I was always aware of your presence, of your gestures, of your nearness.
I am fighting with my reason, not to understand more than I should, but my mind is not clear enough.
Even worse, it was not clear enough regarding you even before the accident.
Therefore, I enquire, and I am counting on your genuine answer.
Were all these efforts only a proof of kindness?
Would you have done the same for any other person in need?
If so, I will accept that I have made a fool of myself and I will remain silent on this matter.
Stevens just told me Bingley is taking a stroll in the garden with Miss Bennet. At least in this regard, I am sure there will be happiness.
I will end this now with one more confession.
At the ball, Mr Collins informed me that he intended to propose to you.
I convinced him that, while you are a remarkable young lady, you are entirely unsuited to the position of his wife and that Lady Catherine would be displeased with his choice.
In both respects, I was sincere, but I apologise if I made a mistake.
Thankfully yours,
F. Darcy”
If the letter took her by surprise, its content threw Elizabeth into a tumult of feelings, all so strong that she cried and laughed at the same time.
He had written so little and yet so much, and she melted with joy as she read every word again and again.
Then she realised he was waiting–with distress and anxiety. So hurriedly she took a pen and paper and wrote hastily,
Mr Darcy,
I would have readily taken care of any person in need, but my feelings while doing so would have been utterly different.
I beg you not to remain silent–I eagerly await the first chance of talking more on the subjects of which I am no more certain than you are. And please rest assured that my mind is not clear on this matter either.
I doubt I possess any spell, but I am sure a real understanding is better than any charm.
I would rather say that you are a true magician since you prevented a most unpleasant confrontation and induced Mr Collins to make a more appropriate selection for his life partner.
As for Mr Bingley and Jane–yes, there is happiness!
Sincerely,
E. Bennet.
She folded the paper and a moment later she knocked on Darcy's door. Stevens appeared and she handed him the note, then returned to her chamber and locked the door.
She took Darcy’s letter and read it again and again, at leisure, mixing smiles with tears, wondering how a piece of paper could bring so much joy. She did not sleep, but her mind and her heart finally got a well-deserved rest.
Later on, she was brought back from her reverie by many loud voices speaking at the same time. Reluctantly, she opened the door and took a few steps, until she could clearly hear her mother’s rapturous cries indicating that Mr Bingley had finally proposed.
In his chamber, resting upon the pillows, still slightly weak and feverish, holding Elizabeth’s letter as a most valuable treasure, Darcy listened to the expressions of celebration that sounded all over the house.
Mrs Bennet knew how to make her feelings known, for sure.
He smiled with contentment, then allowed himself to fall into a deep sleep.
∞∞∞
The news of Jane’s engagement to Mr Bingley reached Meryton almost as quickly as Hill received it in the kitchen at Longbourn.
Before dinner, Mrs Long and Mrs Phillips had already sent their best wishes to Mrs Bennet, whose happiness was a great challenge to her nerves.
Mr Bennet and Dr. Cooper found shelter in the library, far from the din, while the ladies amused themselves in the drawing room.
Darcy heartily congratulated his friend and spent half an hour with him, making wedding plans and deciding who should be informed and invited to attend the ceremony.
To Elizabeth, the day was beyond any dream of happiness that had tantalised her youth. She witnessed her sister’s pure felicity and was granted the promise of a blissful future for herself in a short letter from the only man in the world who had conquered her heart.
She did not need to see Darcy or to speak to him directly. She knew he was there–near her, waiting for the proper moment to talk.
“Lizzy, come with me,” Mr Bennet asked his favourite daughter, taking her away from the loud party to the silence of his library.
“What is it, Papa?” Elizabeth asked with concern at such secrecy.
“There is something I wish to tell you; both Mr Darcy and I are counting on your secrecy.”
“Of course, Papa.”