Chapter 13
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Although the distance between Rosings and Longbourn was not especially long, by the time Darcy left, it was too late to safely complete the journey.
He went as far as possible before stopping at an inn.
It meant he arrived rather earlier than he otherwise would have, had he set out from Kent this morning.
As much as he longed to see Elizabeth, his first conversation must be with her father. The aged butler showed him to the gentleman’s book-room. Mr Bennet regarded him, his brow arched high, holding a cup in one hand and remaining silent until the servant closed the door.
“Well, this is a surprise,” he said. “Perhaps not to see you, but at such an early hour. I must say, Mr Darcy, I had more or less anticipated you would call last week or whenever it was I told Elizabeth she must send you on your way, to allow you to marry your cousin and keep your fine relations content. And, most importantly, away from my family.”
Darcy stood by the door. It took effort not to retort, but nothing would be served by antagonising the older gentleman.
“I did not think there would be much purpose. From what your daughter said, your mind was firm. Therefore, I used my time and energy on altering my circumstances, doing what I could to address your concerns.”
“Did you?” Mr Bennet seemed amused. He waved towards a chair. “Do sit. I shall injure my neck if I keep looking up at you.”
Before complying, Darcy pulled three letters from his pocket and laid them on the desk.
“You will find in those proof that I am not engaged to my cousin and neither does my family expect me to marry her and, further, that they would welcome having Miss Elizabeth as part of our family. Most of them, I should say. Regrettably, Lady Catherine prefers to maintain her stubborn, irrational opposition to the notion that I am an independent gentleman with the rights that affords me, including most notably the decision of whom I shall marry. I have broken with her. My sister and I shall not see her or communicate with her again. Your daughter will never have to be in company with her, and, on her own, there is nothing Lady Catherine can do to harm her or me in society or amongst my relations.”
“Oh? Your relations, you say? You are aware that Lizzy received a visit from a countess late last week?” He sipped from the cup and placed it on the desk, but he did not reach for the letters.
“I am. Lady Romsley likes Miss Elizabeth. Both she and my uncle Romsley anticipate introducing her to our social sphere, and my aunt has promised to assist her in establishing herself in her new role in life.”
“Supposing you propose, she accepts, and I give my consent,” Mr Bennet said. It was not a question.
Swallowing his irritation, Darcy said, “One of the letters I brought is from Lord Romsley. The other is from my father’s younger brother, assuring you that he, too, has no objections.
Both men are also familiar with my father’s thoughts on the matter, and I believe they wrote of it.
The final missive is from my solicitor, confirming there is no existing contract or other obligation existing between me and my cousin Miss de Bourgh.
” He leant forward, erasing a small portion of the distance between them.
“Sir, I am not and have never been engaged to my cousin. I am not bound by honour to her. Lady Catherine would like me to marry her daughter based on day-dreams she and my late mother had when we were infants. In short, I am at complete liberty to give my heart and my hand to whichever lady I like, and the one I like—the one I love—is your daughter Elizabeth. She told me she disclosed the whole of our connexion to you. Thus, you know I have loved her and desired to make her my wife for months. My feelings go back to when I was here last autumn, and she captured me with her fine eyes, wit, liveliness, and…and…”
“That is quite enough of that.” Mr Bennet sat up in his chair, let out a loud gush of air, and reached for the letters.
Staring at them, but not breaking the seals, he said, “No man really wishes to hear another speak of being in love with his daughter. You will understand if you are ever the one sitting behind a desk.” He returned the papers to the table and rested his hands on top of them.
“Your uncles are fully aware of Lizzy’s circumstances, her lack of dowry and my wife’s connexion to trade? ”
“They are. While they would prefer it if the latter were not true, it makes little difference to them. In the end, the Philipses and Gardiners will be my new family, not theirs, and I was pleased to assure them that your brothers- and sisters-in-law are respectable people with excellent characters. The money can be of no concern to anyone but me, and I have sufficient wealth. I do not know how Lady Catherine learnt of your youngest daughter’s elopement and subsequent marriage, but she did inform the earl and countess.
Since the couple are married and few know the whole tale of their union, it, too, is easily overlooked. ”
Apparently, Elizabeth had not told her father that Darcy knew of the elopement, and they spent several minutes discussing it.
Suspecting it was best to be as open as possible with Mr Bennet, and hoping it would improve the gentleman’s opinion of him, Darcy disclosed that he had found the couple and convinced Wickham to marry the girl.
Mr Bennet removed his glasses and rubbed his eyes.
“Well, that is…I suppose I should thank you, and when I am less shocked, I shall. I pray you never know what it is like to confront the truth that you have failed your child. When I believed my brother Gardiner had done the business, it was difficult enough, but that you—” He sighed and ran both hands over his face before meeting Darcy’s eye, his emotions under regulation once again.
“For now, I shall show my gratitude by telling you to go find Lizzy and say what you will. You have my consent.” Impatiently, he waved a hand, sending Darcy away.
Darcy was out the door and down the stairs before either of them had time to draw breath.
Elizabeth was chatting with Jane and Mary in the drawing room, their mother and younger sister having their own conversation, when the door suddenly flew open. Surprised, all sound immediately ceased, and she was sure more than she looked to see who had entered with such haste; how could they not?
It was Mr Darcy. Her Mr Darcy had finally returned! Relief flooded her, leaving her heated and lightheaded. She smiled, likely the largest grin she had ever made, and she drank in the sight of him, watching as his eyes scanned the occupants until his gaze fell on her.
Without looking at her mother, he said, speaking rapidly, “Mrs Bennet, I humbly request a private interview with Miss Elizabeth. She might like to—”
“Take a walk,” Elizabeth interjected as she leapt to her feet. “I would,” she added, feeling breathless and on the verge of bursting into happy tears. It was all she could do not to shout that yes, she would marry him even though he had not yet proposed. Not today, that was.
“Mr Darcy?” her mother said. “Lizzy, what are you doing? What is happening? I do not understand.”
“Everything is as it ought to be,” Jane said, her tone calm. “I shall explain. Mr Darcy, it is very good to see you again. Enjoy your walk, Lizzy.”
Elizabeth, who had paused some half a dozen feet from Mr Darcy when her mother said her name, nodded at her elder sister, and, glancing at the gentleman, directed him from the room. She walked towards the rear door that opened to the gardens.
“You need a coat,” Mr Darcy said.
“Do you really wish to wait five or ten minutes while I find one?” she asked, sounding as astonished as she felt.
Fortunately, there was no need to debate the matter. The butler ambled towards them, holding her dark blue spencer.
“Here you are, Miss Lizzy,” he said, his voice raspy with age.
“Thank you.” She accepted the garment, looking the old man in the eye and, as she did at least once a day, said, “You need to retire. You know there is a snug cottage waiting for you on the estate.”
“When you and your sisters are all married,” he said, a small smile on his lips; his eyes flickered towards Mr Darcy.
Elizabeth chuckled and continued towards the door as she donned her jacket. “It is our joke,” she explained. “He has served at Longbourn since my great-grandfather’s time. He only works an hour or two a day now, but he will not give it up.”
As soon as they were outside, she stopped and regarded him, her eyes wide and tapping one foot. She was both impatient and anxious, a tiny part of her still unwilling to give up the fear that their story would not end well, despite her best efforts to banish it.
He said, “I love that you care for an old servant’s well-being, that you treat him and everyone else you encounter with kindness and consideration. I have missed and dreamt of seeing your beautiful face since the moment we parted.”
She felt herself blush and shyly averted her eyes. Taking his hand, she said, “Come, let us move away from the house. I suspect more than one person will watch us from the windows if we do not.”
It seemed he would not release her hand, even if she had attempted to free it, and, taking quick, long steps, they were soon in the copse and hidden by trees, many of which were still largely full of leaves.
When they stood still, he pulled her hands to his mouth and kissed them.
“Please, forgive me for not saying whatever I should, given we have not seen each other in over a week, but, for what I believe is the third time, Miss Elizabeth Bennet, you must allow me to tell you how deeply, truly, unendingly I love you. I beg you to relieve my suffering and consent to be my wife.”
She laughed—how could she not?—and cried, “Yes, oh yes, of course I shall!” Suddenly, it seemed like it was the brightest, warmest, most beautiful spring day—a time for rejoicing and new beginnings—not the damp, cool autumn day it was, one that evoked shivers and thoughts of the long darkness of winter.
Mr Darcy—finally truly her Mr Darcy—expressed himself as well and as sensibly as a man violently in love possibly could, and she was not at all dissatisfied with the passion of his embrace.
She had never been kissed in such a manner, and, as she rested her head against his broad, firm chest, listening to his heart and enjoying the unimaginable comfort of his arms wrapped around her body, she sighed, releasing all the vexation and anxiety she had experienced since his last ill-fated proposal; indeed, it seemed that every moment of unease she had ever had in her life vanished at once.
“Have you suffered terribly while we were apart?” she said.
“Very much so. I did not know what and how long it would take to convince my uncles or your father to accept our marriage, if I would be able to at all. In the end, the business was done as easily and quickly as I suppose was reasonable.” He spoke for a few minutes of his time at Pemberley and his conversations with Lord and Lady Romsley, Mr Frederick Darcy, and, just that morning, her father.
“Ah, Lady Romsley,” she said. “I believe I shall like her best of all your relations, apart from you and Miss Darcy. Her visit gave me hope that she and others would not think so poorly of me, once they got over their shock that you would marry the penniless daughter of a country gentleman.”
“She likes you very much. But why are we speaking of anyone other than us?”
Tilting her chin up, she silently asked for a kiss, which he provided. She then said, “I am afraid we must, but not for much longer. Dare I ask about Lady Catherine?”
He shook his head. “I no longer consider her a person I need concern myself with. I shall tell you everything, but not at this moment, if you please.”
Standing on the tips of her toes, she kissed him this time, rather than wait for him to kiss her.
“I am content to set aside talk of other matters for now. Later, we might tell each other in excruciating detail exactly what we did and felt during this separation. Oh, I hope we shall not have another for a very long time!”
“I do not intend that we shall. If possible, I would take you away immediately, some place I would not need to share you with even one other person.”
Joy bubbled up within her and, yet again, she smiled and laughed. “I do love you so very much. I would happily follow your plan, but I think Papa will insist we are married before he allows you to carry me off. And, on that score…”
“Tell me we shall be married before Christmas,” he implored.
She nodded, her grin momentarily preventing her from speaking.
“If you agree, Jane and I have it all arranged. Mr Bingley knows, as well, and thinks it the most excellent notion. We shall have a double wedding at the start of December. Do you see? Even when I was afraid to believe everything might turn out as it should, even when I said those hurtful words to you—which I did not want to do, I only did because—”
“I know, my love, and I understand. I am also choosing to accept that your father behaved sensibly, all things considered.”
“I did not give up hope, not in my heart,” she said. “Whether that is because I am stubborn or simply because I know there would be no real happiness for me without you, I cannot say.”
Her darling betrothed rested his forehead lightly against hers and whispered, “I feel the same. My life would be poorer without you in it. Colourless. I could never have given up fighting for us, not when I knew you returned my love.”
Then, looking into his dark eyes as he lowered his lips towards hers yet again, she reflected that this was their true moment of happiness—made all the sweeter for having been in doubt—one that promised the most wonderful, perfect future anyone could ever imagine possible.