Chapter 29 #2
Darcy was eager to call at Longbourn the following day, having been prevented from accompanying Bingley after the wedding by the arrival at Netherfield of a letter from his steward which required a prompt response.
He had reluctantly stayed behind to compose and dispatch it.
Fitzwilliam had gone out, too, to call at Lucas Lodge, and once Darcy had arranged for his missive to be sent by express, he had sought out his sister.
She had been cornered by Miss Bingley and Mrs Hurst, and was patiently enduring their complaints of their brother’s ‘unwise’ engagement.
For her sake, he joined the ladies and added his voice to Georgiana’s in expressing contentment at Bingley’s undeniable happiness.
Only the need to change for dinner had released them, though Bingley’s presence at the meal and afterwards had restrained the sisters’ later remarks against Miss Bennet to only an occasional jibe.
In great anticipation of seeing Miss Elizabeth for the first time since the Twelfth Night assembly, he was a little unhappy to be informed by Mrs Hill that Mr Bennet had requested that Mr Darcy attend him if he should appear.
He swallowed his disappointment and allowed himself to be conducted to the study, where his friend wasted little time in questioning why he had singled Miss Elizabeth out by dancing the first and the last with her, concluding with the stern enquiry, “Do you mean to carry my daughter off to the north, Darcy?”
Surprised into bare honesty, Darcy replied, “If she will allow it, sir.”
Bennet sat back, regarding him through slightly narrowed eyes. “I see. Do you believe she is anticipating your addresses?”
“I do, yes,” he replied. “I believe I have made myself as plain as propriety allows, and she has not turned me away. I am extremely hopeful that my petition, when I make it, shall meet with success.”
“And did you plan to secure my permission first? Elizabeth is not yet of age.”
“Most certainly,” he replied, shocked that it could be in doubt. “I consider you a friend, Bennet, but even were that not the case, I should never have disregarded your role as her father.”
“I see.” Bennet smiled tightly, seeming rather abashed.
“Forgive me, Darcy. Your interest in her came as something of a shock to me. I will admit that I have always hoped Lizzy would settle within an easy distance of me. Perhaps in London—it seemed more likely she would meet someone through her uncle than hereabouts. I am selfish enough to be angry that she may go so far away. It is nothing to do with you; I could hardly imagine a finer man to whom to surrender her care.”
Somewhat mollified by this final statement, Darcy exerted himself to speak with sympathy rather than offence.
If some fellow proposed taking Georgiana off to Somerset, he would not be best pleased, either, he knew.
“I must visit London at least once a year, sir, and would wish to have my wife with me. Naturally, we should stop here for a visit, and you might come to town while we are in residence.” When the older man grimaced, he smirked and added, “With both your daughter and Hatchard’s there, you might like the place well enough for a short stay.
You would, of course, always be welcome at Pemberley. I believe I have mentioned my library?”
Bennet affected a glare but the corners of his mouth were twitching with a repressed smile. “You think to lure me from the comfort of my own study by tempting me with books?”
“With books and the company of your daughter, I do,” Darcy replied, grinning openly now.
“Next you will offer me my own travelling coach to secure my permission.”
“What an excellent notion, Bennet. Four horses, or six?”
Mr Bennet could restrain himself no longer and burst out laughing. “Very well, very well. Take her away if you must, young man, but know that I shall appear on your doorstep with no notice at all whensoever the fancy takes me.”
“I hope you do, sir. You will always be most welcome.”
Having so unexpectedly secured Bennet’s permission to address Miss Elizabeth, Darcy was in no mood to delay further.
There was no opportunity that day, for he joined Bingley and the ladies in the parlour near to the end of the visit, but the following morning he rode out early and alone.
He knew that even in the cold months she would walk in the garden before breakfast, and he hoped to catch her there.
Riding up the drive, he caught a glimpse of movement through the denuded hedge and his heart leapt.
He dismounted and entered through the gate. Her head came up at the sound of his steps upon the gravel path, her surprise quickly transforming to a brilliant smile. “Good morning, Mr Darcy. Do you often lurk about other people’s gardens at dawn?”
“Not often, no,” he replied. “Only under the greatest inducement.”
“And what great inducement has brought you here today?”
He fetched up before her and bowed. Straightening, he said, “Your company, of course.”
She turned the full force of that beautiful smile upon him. “Your company makes for a delightful start to my day, too, sir.”
“I would spend every morning with you for the rest of our lives, if you are so inclined,” he declared earnestly.
“I am not a man for speeches, Miss Elizabeth. I can hardly express how ardently I admire and love you, how my every wish and hope for the future requires that you be by my side. If I could say what is in my heart when I look upon you, I should be talking for hours. But I have not the words, and so, my dearest, loveliest Elizabeth, I must ask you simply, will you marry me?”
“I will, yes,” she replied, happy tears spilling down her cheeks. “I do not require speeches, only you, exactly as you are.”
No words were required to express his happiness at this reply; their communication in the following moments was such as any couple so violently in love might be supposed to make.
Flushed and smiling, they pulled a little apart and chose to walk.
They spoke, naturally, of the origins and course of their growing affections, remoulding the difficult moments into a more pleasing shape through the lens of love and understanding and vowing, as all young lovers must do, to forever be the happiest couple in the world.