Chapter Twenty-Two #3
“No, I suppose he never was,” Lady Rebecca said sharply.
“But perhaps you understand his true character, at last. I find it infinitely more to be desired when a gentleman demonstrates exactly who he is from the very start of an acquaintance, and then continues on just as honorably. Do you not agree?”
Elinor stared down at the letter until the words seemed to blur before her eyes. “Yes,” she said at last.
“But then, perhaps your former beau did illustrate his own scruples from the very beginning. As I understand it, he came amongst you during a time of great sorrow for your family and singled you out, neglecting to tell you of his betrothal to another. He remained amongst you long enough to comprehend his sister’s selfish mistreatment of your mother, your sisters, and most especially yourself, and took no pains to put a stop to Fanny Dashwood’s heartless snobbery.
He might have encouraged his sister and her husband to the benevolence of actually honoring your father’s dying wish that they look after you ladies – or if he did, it was not with any efficacy.
When next he saw you, when he visited that tragic little cottage to which you need never return, he was not sufficiently dismayed by your circumstances to appeal then to your half-brother and his wife.
And according to Marianne, he wore a ring of hair that he allowed you to believe was his sister’s, which Marianne now believes to be a token from Miss Steele. Have I omitted anything?”
Elinor listened to all this in agonizing silence, allowing the pain of Edward’s many failings to wash over her, strengthening the tender sentiments she now cherished for Colonel Fitzwilliam.
“Thank you,” she murmured at last, blinking back tears as she looked at her friend.
“Believe me to possess every feeling you might wish to inspire.”
Lady Rebecca smiled brightly at her, and she clasped Elinor’s hand. “I have no wish to cause you pain; I only hope to call you sister.”
By way of answer, Elinor squeezed her friend’s hand and gave a nod of her head.
When the gentlemen finished their cheeky song, Lady Rebecca stood and announced that after she performed a duet with Marianne, refreshments would be served.
Following this, they would all play cards for an hour, but the instrument would remain open to any other ladies of the neighborhood who wished to delight their party.
The colonel resumed his seat beside Elinor, ready to receive all her praise and astonishment.
When he was satisfied, he gave her a wry smile.
“My lively tune has put me in the perfect mood for an evening of dancing, though I understand there shall only be half as many sets as a proper ball; no doubt my sister’s guests shall find themselves exhausted after their exertions on the ice.
But how many dances might I claim of yours?
You must stand up with Bingley, I suppose, but dare I hope you are willing to shock and amaze our companions by promising the rest of your sets to me? ”
“I only hope that shall prove sufficient time for me to thank you,” she said softly.
He raised his brows merrily, but there was tenderness in his smile and hope in his gaze. “Is that a yes?”
Elinor smiled back at him, letting her hand once again entwine with his in the space between them. “Yes, I will dance with you as much as you wish.”
“And… dare I hope for any other yes?”
Elinor shuddered from excitement. “You have not asked me anything else, sir.”
The colonel tugged at her hand and stood, bringing her up with him. He hastily led her out of the side door nearby, into the corridor. “Elinor, surely you must know….”
“I know what you have done – that it was for me,” she said. Her eyes began to well with tears, and she hugged herself as if to restrain her swell of emotion.
“And you know what I feel for you….”
A laugh that was nearly a sob bubbled in her throat. “I should like to hear you say it, sir.”
He exhaled heavily and raked a hand through his hair.
“I am not often a serious man, not outside my military role. But I have been perfectly serious in my efforts to demonstrate what I find words cannot express. I spoke to both your cousins when I was in London; I asked them what I might do to prove to you through actions that… that I have come to admire you above every woman I have ever met, and that I wish to overcome every hurdle and impediment to winning your heart.”
Colonel Fitzwilliam heaved another breath, as if it were an exertion for him to speak with such passion. “You must be aware that I know a great deal of your history – that miserable wretch….”
“Yes,” Elinor said, her voice cracking. She extended a hand to the colonel, who had begun to pace wildly. “It is by comparing your actions to his that I have learned a great deal of my heart, sir. I am no more prone to flights of fancy and romantic effusions than you are.”
“It is one thing I love about you,” he replied, and then ceased his pacing, struck by a look of amazement. “Gads! I suppose that was easy enough, in the end.”
A tear finally fell freely down Elinor’s cheek, and then another. She reached into her pocket for a handkerchief, and found the one she always carried, the one that bore his initials.
The colonel stared at her with wide eyes, and took a step closer to her, running his fingers over the handkerchief before raising it to her cheeks to dry her tears himself.
He braced her arms in his own and gently kissed her forehead.
“Elinor, I cannot bear this torment so easily. It is not my way to make grand speeches.”
“You do well enough with grand gestures, I shall grant you,” she said with a breathy laugh. She tipped her head back to peer up at him, his face still inches from hers. “I have come to comprehend your ways; you have told me so once before. You told me that you understood my nature well enough….”
“And that I have believed since the first day of our acquaintance that we are eminently well-suited,” he said. “I might have laid my heart at your feet then, if your own had been free.”
“And now that it is?”
His eyes widened a little, shock and relief mingling with the joy that shone through in his smile. “And what of your hand?” He clutched her hand with both of his, and raised her fingers to his lips.
Elinor felt the tingle of gooseflesh on her skin.
“Yours for the asking, as well as my heart.” Suddenly emboldened, she mirrored his gesture, bringing his hand to her lips.
“How strange it is, but your returning Norland to my family has only made me realize that I cannot imagine returning there, calling it home again, without you.”
The corners of his eyes crinkled, and she could see that he was affected by her tender sentiments. “Then I shall have to accept your proposal, my dearest Elinor – you insist on dancing with me all night, and my reputation will be ruined if our engagement is not widely known of.”
Ruin – the word rippled through her, drawing her out of the resplendent moment with a sudden jolt. “Oh! Lydia!”
“Pardon?”
“My cousin, she has run away from Hampshire with Mr. Wickham.” Despite Lady Rebecca’s confidence that all would be put right, Elinor could not bear to ask his assistance – especially if it might mean she would be obliged to part with him when he had only just returned.
“I shall send an express to Darcy, who is already determined to hunt that cur to the ends of the earth. Indeed, I daresay he should like to woo a certain lady with grand gestures of his own.” Colonel Fitzwilliam tugged at her hands, bringing her closer to him, and he rested his cheek against her forehead.
“I will go to London if you wish it, but I shall not deny I have no wish to part from you.”
Elinor smiled to herself, and then slowly tipped her face upward and softly kissed his cheek. “Then at last our feelings are in perfect accord.”
He turned his face, and his lips brushed hers. “Utterly perfect,” he whispered.