Chapter 5
CHAPTER FIVE
T he first weeks of August were the happiest of Elizabeth’s life. If her wishes were fulfilled, she expected yet more joy in the coming years. What made this period so memorable was Mr Darcy. She had not thought to ever meet a gentleman who suited her as perfectly as he did. They were not strictly alike, but that made them an even better match, in her opinion; she could teach him liveliness, and he could teach her to be serious, when the situation required it. Each day she saw him, the deeper and more all-consuming her sentiments for him became. It would have been worrisome if she had not been certain that he felt the same way for her. While they did not speak of it, her heart told her that he too recognised that their connexion was special and unique. When he was nearby, everyone and everything else faded away. They often spoke with other people, which was enjoyable, but her favourite moments were those when she and Mr Darcy were able to devote themselves to each other .
They were taking a walk to Oakham Mount with her sisters and Mr Bingley. Not long into the excursion, Mr Darcy claimed a desire to examine some foliage near the stream, and when Lydia suggested she would remain with him and Elizabeth, Mary made an exasperated noise and stated, “They wish to speak alone, Lydia. Come along.”
Elizabeth chuckled, and Mr Darcy looked away, she presumed to hide his embarrassment. They spent several minutes studying the plants that grew at the water’s edge, Elizabeth doing her best to recall what she knew of local botany. He then led her to a flat rock on which they could both sit and took her hand in his.
“It seems impossible to me that we met only five weeks ago. I feel as if I have known you all my life,” he said.
Elizabeth experienced a strange fluttering in her stomach, and she wondered if today was the day he would speak to her of his feelings. She longed for him to do so yet was surprised by a vein of anxiety that was almost acute enough to call fear. But she was always courageous in the face of uncomfortable situations, and she wanted, yearned for Mr Darcy to say that he loved her.
“I have often thought the same,” she said. “I cannot believe we have not always been friends.”
He regarded her for a long moment. “Would it be too much for me to hope that we are more than friends?”
Finding she could not speak, she shook her head, keeping her eyes fixed on his. He took a deep breath and slowly released it as though relieved.
“Weeks ago, I told myself you were the lady for me, the only lady for me,” he said. “Since then, each day has brought greater certainty. Part of me feels like this is madness, but I have known since we first met that there was something different about my feelings for you. I cannot deny what it is. I love you, Elizabeth, and nothing could shake my belief that we are meant to be together as husband and wife and the dearest of friends.”
Her heart was ready to burst with the force of emotion coursing through her, and a small sound, almost a whimper, passed her lips. She grinned, which made it almost impossible to speak. “I feel the same way. I always thought it was nothing but whimsy, to meet someone and recognise they were the one perfect person for you. But then I met you, and by the end of the assembly, I knew you would be a very important part of my life, that I would love you, and once I began, I would forever.”
An expression of heart-felt delight diffused over his face. “Will you marry me? If it is too soon, say so, and I shall remain patient until you are ready?—”
“No, it is not too soon!” she cried. “Yes, yes, I will marry you. How could I not when you are essential to my happiness?”
Before she knew how it had happened, Mr Darcy’s hands were gently wrapped about the nape of her neck, his fingers slipping into her hair, and he was kissing her. It was the most delicious sensation, soft yet firm, exhilarating and dizzying, and she clung to him, wanting to be as close as possible. They remained thus until a sudden crackling of twigs startled them both and they broke apart, each looking about them.
Elizabeth laughed breathlessly and pointed to the right. “It was a rabbit. I suppose it is just as well.”
Mr Darcy—her Mr Darcy, who would one day be her husband!—exhaled and nodded. “Yes, I think it was. Come, my love—how I have longed to call you that!—let us find your sisters and my friend.”
By the end of the day, Darcy had secured Mr Bennet’s permission to marry Elizabeth. The older man seemed resigned but also a little peevish when they spoke privately, and he had set the condition that the marriage was not to take place for several months.
“You and Lizzy have not known each other long,” he said. “It would be wise to take this time to get to know one another better.”
Darcy thought it was rather contradictory for Mr Bennet to accept an engagement but delay the wedding based on such an argument, but he said nothing; he would not want him to change his mind.
While he and Mr Bennet discussed the marriage contract and he acquainted his soon-to-be father-in-law with his financial position, Elizabeth was speaking to her mother. After the better part of an hour, he, the Bennets, and Bingley gathered in the Longbourn drawing room. There was a hastily arranged celebration and the enthusiasm in the room was almost too much for him. Thankfully, he had Elizabeth by his side; she gave him strength even when both of them were silent. As her mother expressed how pleased she was that her daughter had ‘captured’ such a man, Elizabeth placed her arm around his; the touch eased him, almost like diving into a refreshing pond on a hot summer day would.
“A house in town and a country estate! How grand you will be, Lizzy,” Mrs Bennet said. “You have chosen wisely, Mr Darcy. My Lizzy is as good a girl as you would find anywhere.”
“I know I have, madam,” he interjected. “I am very proud that Miss Elizabeth has agreed to be my wife.”
Mrs Bennet tittered and dabbed at her eyes as though overcome with emotion—and perhaps she was. She leant towards them and whispered, “The only thing that could make me happier would be if Jane and Mr Bingley were also engaged.”
“Mama,” Elizabeth replied, sounding pleading.
“Very well. I shall keep my wishes to myself.” Mrs Bennet rolled her eyes, and for just an instant, her manner reminded him of Elizabeth’s.
It might have been alarming, but he had no fear that his lady would mature into a woman like her mother. The differences in their education would prevent it. Indeed, despite finding Mrs Bennet tiresome and wishing Mr Bennet would teach her to be less vulgar, Darcy was learning to like her, albeit slowly. Having decided he loved Elizabeth too much to give her up, he was determined to embrace her family, and to do that, he would seek to identify the best aspects of their characters, using it to make the objectionable ones less obvious. What he valued about Mrs Bennet was the love she felt for her family, and since he had proposed to one of her daughters, he had no doubt she would extend her care to him too. As much as he respected his aunts, none of them was especially maternal, at least not to a nephew, and it might be agreeable to have an older lady in his life who looked upon him as a son.
As for Bingley and Miss Bennet, Bingley had told him privately that he hoped to marry the lady, but he was not prepared to propose so soon. He was young—four years Darcy’s junior—and had just taken on the responsibility of Netherfield. At present, he wanted to delay any question of marriage for several more months, although he admitted he might grow impatient and change his mind.
Darcy’s situation was different, and there had been no reason not to propose. I shall have to tell Elizabeth. She can decide whether to explain Bingley’s sentiments to her sister. I would not want Miss Bennet to be dejected because her younger sister is engaged and she is not.
Over the next several days, he spent every moment possible with Elizabeth and her family. He found being at Longbourn pleasanter than Netherfield, and not just because it meant being with the lady he loved more than he had known it possible to love. The reason was simple. While Bingley was happy for him, his family was not. Mrs Hurst and Miss Bingley did not outright say anything to him—indeed, both ladies had all but stopped talking to him unless politeness required it—but they made sly comments about girls who use nefarious means to secure wealthy husbands and people who sought to elevate their position in life whatever it took.
Hurst was not so circumspect. “I hope you will not regret it, but very likely you will. All men wish they had chosen differently sometimes, but some of us… Well, we pursue ladies that capture our attention for good reasons, their fortune or beauty, usually. We act as though that is all it takes to be happy, and next thing you know, you realise you have nothing to talk about, are not sure you even like each other, yet you are stuck together until one of you dies.”
Hurst, Bingley, and Darcy were sharing a drink after a day of fishing when this conversation occurred. Darcy struggled to find the words to respond.
Bingley evidently did not share the same hesitancy. “I suppose I should remind you that you are speaking of one of my sisters. I am not blind to Louisa’s or Caroline’s faults, but I cannot let you disparage them.”
Mr Hurst made a dismissive hand gesture. “Did not. Louisa is pretty and seldom argues with me. My situation could be worse.”
Bingley and Darcy exchanged a look, the former rolling his eyes before continuing. “I say that Darcy has made an excellent decision. Everything I have learnt about Miss Elizabeth and witnessed of their connexion assures me they are well matched and will be extremely happy.”
Darcy held up his glass in a salute.
Mr Hurst shrugged and scratched his neck before finishing the last of his wine. “I warn you, Bingley, if you keep pursuing Miss Bennet, you will never be happy. Your sisters will see to it.”
Bingley’s face flushed, but before he could respond, Darcy did. “I believe the ladies will cease complaining once they understand that their brother will not give in to their wishes for his future but rather decide for himself what will bring him the most joy.” His friend thanked him, and Darcy went on. “On a different subject, I must go to Richmond for a few days. It will allow me to see my uncles and their families, and Georgiana, of course. I wish to inform them of my engagement.” The earl and his father’s brother and their wives and children had lately been in Sussex together, visiting the countess’s elderly relations; they had always intended to stop in Richmond as they journeyed to their country estates: Romsley Hall in Warwickshire, and Greenway, in Shropshire. Originally, Darcy anticipated travelling northwards with them, along with Georgiana, who was presently residing at the earl’s Richmond house.
“You intend to return, do you not?” Bingley asked. “I cannot imagine you not doing so unless you plan to kidnap Miss Elizabeth and force her to marry you immediately.” He laughed merrily.
“I do. Would you be agreeable to Georgiana coming with me? She would bring her companion.”
“Of course! Miss Darcy is as welcome here as you are. I shall be glad to see her, and I know Caroline and Louisa will be as well.”