Chapter 31 #2
“None, which is why her opinion is of no importance, and her efforts to direct my affections have all been in vain. The only way in which her reprehensible interference has disadvantaged me is that I no longer have a housekeeper.”
“You have dismissed her? I suppose that is well and good. I only wish she had not painted me as an unsuitable, inconstant, and ungrateful interloper before you had the chance!”
“I did not dismiss her. I had not decided what to do about her, but she has taken the matter out of my hands. I received a letter from my steward this morning, informing me that she has left Pemberley—under the cover of darkness and without notice.”
Elizabeth stopped pacing at last, though she was evidently still in high emotion, and she looked stricken. “So now you must leave again. To appoint a new one.”
“No. Indeed, that is what I wished to speak to you about. I rather hoped you might like to appoint one.” He could not help but smile at her obvious bewilderment.
“Elizabeth, you must know my affections and wishes are unchanged. I love you as much today as I did this summer, in the spring, last autumn. I shall continue to love you as long as I live, but I should be a good deal happier if you would agree to live with me. And Pemberley would be a good deal better off if you were its mistress.”
She stared at him, myriad different emotions playing across her countenance, but gave him no reply.
Though it pained him to say it, he forced himself to add, “But if I have mistaken your feelings again, I shall not—”
“What? No! No, you have not—I am not—I was not sure I understood you properly. I was still reeling from what you said about your housekeeper. But—oh, why did you not tell me this before you made me so angry?”
Dear God, he loved her! Her countenance was an exquisite mix of annoyance, astonishment, and happiness that made him joyous just to look at it.
“It was not my intention to make you angry,” he replied, smiling more broadly now.
“But to make it quite clear that it does not matter to me who your brother is, or how he came to be your brother. To explain why I did not come for you sooner. To tell you how ardently I still admire and love you.”
He stepped closer and took her hand in his. “Elizabeth, please say you will marry me. I do not wish to be apart from you anymore.”
She let out what seemed to be all her breath and smiled ecstatically. “Nor I you! I have missed you—so very much. I thought I would never see you again, and—” She huffed a conscious little laugh. “Yes, I will marry you. That would make me very, very happy.”
It was Darcy’s turn to be astonished. He had been reasonably confident that her opinion of him had improved during her stay in Derbyshire.
He had also judged her to be pleased that he was come to Hertfordshire.
He had not been expecting that she would confess to an attachment strong enough to have made her mourn their separation.
He could not easily have said how she came to be in his arms, except that it was where she belonged.
At first, he only held her, rejoicing at having won the privilege at long last and jealously guarding her from anything that might wrest her from him once more.
He told her how dearly he loved her, promised her everything it was in his power to give, and thanked her profusely for forgiving him.
The expression of more passionate sentiments was a natural progression after she whispered his name and affirmed her affections aloud.
Her kiss was delicacy and passion entwined—a heady mix that caught him unawares, igniting a long-withstood ache into a conflagration of need.
That he could kiss her, that she welcomed his affections at last, amplified his desire in a way he had not anticipated, and his caress was more ardent than it ought to have been.
Yet, in her inimitable way, Elizabeth wasted no time on timidity, and only her innocence prevented the kiss from taking an even more heated turn.
It was enough for Darcy; after the agonies of the past year, any touch of hers would have felt sublime.
Such a display of regard as this was beyond anything for which he had dared hope.
They recollected themselves eventually and walked on, Elizabeth’s hands wrapped around Darcy’s arm and her head resting against his shoulder.
It was an easy intimacy that felt as though it deserved more than a few minutes’ earning, as though they had been affianced all their lives. He had never known happiness like it.
“Shall you like to be Pemberley’s mistress?”
“I shall like it a great deal, though it may be a while before I can claim to be a proficient one. You ought to be aware, I do not know the first thing about how to choose a housekeeper.”
“One thing is certain—you will struggle to find anyone worse than the previous candidate. I suggest you begin with a woman who knows what loyalty is and go from there.” Darcy regretted the asperity that had crept into his tone.
“What made her tell you in the end?” Elizabeth asked. “It is hard enough to comprehend her deceit. Her admitting it is even more peculiar.”
“I believe she was largely motivated by guilt. She claimed to have realised that she misunderstood your character.”
“Well, that is something, I suppose.”
It felt strange to Darcy, to be censuring a woman who had for so long been a figure of integrity and competence in his eyes.
It accentuated his bitterness and left a sour taste in his mouth as he replied, “She was also anxious that your sister’s marriage was not a happy one and realised I could only be of assistance to them if I were aware of it. ”
“How on earth did she know Lydia and Wickham were unhappy?”
“I presume she read it in your letters.”
Elizabeth shook her head. “Lydia was not married when Jane wrote to me.”
“I cannot answer for it in that case. I was about as angry as I have ever been in those few minutes listening to her confession. I am afraid I was not in a humour to concentrate on details. Perhaps she heard it from Wickham’s mother.”
“His mother ? He told me she was dead!” Elizabeth gave an exasperated growl. “Are you sure you can tolerate him as a brother? I know I cannot.”
“There is a particular advantage to me in the arrangement that makes it much easier to bear.” He lifted her hand to his lips to place a kiss on her gloved fingers. “You are pleased, though, that the Wickhams are to move to Newcastle? You will not miss your sister?”
“I will always worry about her, but we are not close. I do not anticipate that the distance will cause either of us much distress. I certainly will not miss him . I feel such a fool for ever having tried to defend him to you. He was awful when he came here. So complacent and charming, and yet so obviously not in love with Lydia. I have no idea why he married her. Papa can only give him a hundred pounds a year. If it were not for his plethora of secret relations giving him money, they would still be stuck in Clerk—”
She stopped talking and looked at him. Darcy looked directly ahead and continued walking. She tugged on his arm to make him stop and look at her.
“It was you! You bought him the commission. Do not deny it—you just admitted that Mrs Reynolds only told you about the marriage so you could assist them.”
“I shall not deny it, although strictly speaking, your uncle arranged the commission. I only provided the capital. And settled an extra thousand pounds on your sister to help make her more comfortable.”
She was in his arms again in an instant—or rather, he was in hers as she flung them around his neck, almost dislodging his hat, and thanked him over and over.
He wrapped his arms around her slender waist and held her tightly to him, revelling in the feel of her.
She might not have thrown herself at him with quite such energy had she known how much, and for how long he had wanted her, but as long as she was content for him to hold her so close, he was content to continue.
“I was right, obviously, not to tell you before we reached an understanding,” he said. “I was concerned you would feel obligated to me, but I had no idea of it producing so strong a sense of gratitude as this.”
“That is because you do not know what I do.” She stood back from him, and he was startled to see how affected she was.
“I have said this to no one, but Wickham all but admitted to me that he was carrying on an affair with Mrs Younge. She is their landlady and nearest neighbour. Lydia was completely oblivious. It broke my heart that she was being so ill-used. Now you have sent them away from all that. I will not fool myself into believing he will not succumb again to temptation, but at least he is away from that woman.”
Darcy regretted, now, not visiting Wickham himself to deliver a rebuke of a more memorable variety.
He had wished—foolishly—to believe that some hidden vestige of decency had induced his erstwhile friend to marry Lydia.
Would he never learn that the man was beyond redemption?
“If there were anything more I could do to help your sister, I would, but—”
“There is nothing more to be done—and you have already done more than either of them deserves. But you have given me great comfort, and I thank you with all my heart.”
“I am gladder than ever to have assisted, then, though it did add a week to the time I took to get to you.”
Elizabeth looked relieved to be restored to lighter matters and turned them back to the path with a renewal of her usual liveliness.
“You were lucky it did not take you longer. I was about to run away to stay with my aunt Wallis in North Devon. Mrs Reynolds has been of some use after all in confessing to you when she did.”
“I would have found you, wherever you had gone. And Mrs Reynolds will have none of the credit for my present happiness. I could not have stayed away from you much longer, but I was waiting for you to return home. I was told, when I called at the Plough and Horseshoe, that you had gone north. I assumed you had gone on with your holiday. I have been waiting—wretchedly, I might add—until I thought you might reasonably have returned to Longbourn.”
“We had, originally, planned to go to Chesterfield when we left Lambton. They must have thought that was where we were going. We did not advertise what we were actually hastening towards, for obvious reasons. I hope it will be a comfort for you to know that we had discarded that plan some days before we received the news about Lydia. About the time that my aunt thought I might be forming an attachment to you and would prefer to stay in Lambton, in fact.”
“That is both comforting and maddening. It would have saved me considerable distress had I known you felt that way.”
She gave him an intoxicating look of impish contrition. “I did try to let you know. I could not put anything in a letter, but I did send you a message with your coat.”
“Yes, but as I said, Mrs Reynolds burnt it.”
“No, not the note. It might be—” She pointed to his coat pocket and asked, “May I?”
Darcy nodded and to his surprise, amusement, and rapidly increasing pleasure, she slid her hand into his pocket—in search of what, he dared not permit himself to suppose.
With a triumphant cry, she retracted her hand and waved a ribbon in the air between them. “I pushed it too far into the stitching. I am not surprised you did not notice it.”
“What is it?”
“The ribbon I used at the picnic for the game of Lead Balloon. Do you not remember it?”
Darcy shook his head, nonplussed. “I was not looking at your ribbon that day.”
“Oh.” She wrinkled her nose and chuckled wryly. “So, my attempt to let you know that I admired you was a miserable failure?”
“I will admit—and only because I am now secure in your affections—had I found that, I would absolutely not have equated it with a declaration of your regard. I would have just thought you left your ribbon in my pocket.”
Elizabeth’s slight chuckle turned into full blown and hearty laughter. “How wonderfully like you that is, dearest Fitzwilliam!”
If a heart swelling with happiness was something that could truly happen, Darcy thought his might burst to see her so joyful, so beautiful, so enticingly, miraculously his.
He could not kiss her again, for he had spotted Bingley and Miss Bennet coming back along the path towards them, but it was enough simply to know that she would be his wife, and that he would be endearingly hers for as long as he had on earth.