Chapter Eighty-Two
When Mr. Darcy returned to the parlour, Mr. Bingley turned at once to Jane. “It is not a particularly cold day; will you walk with me, Jane?”
They both smiled at his use of her first name. She agreed at once, and Mr. Darcy looked at Elizabeth. “Shall we join them, Miss Elizabeth?”
Her cheeks were rosy, and her eyes avoided his as she nodded her acceptance.
Ah, he thought, she knows why I was speaking with her father – and she agreed to walk with me!
He had to bite his lips to stop a grin from spreading across his face.
Dimly, he heard his sister and the younger Bennet girls giggling, but he paid them no mind.
Once outerwear had been collected, the four of them went out the kitchen door and into the back garden.
It was, actually, quite a cold day, despite Mr. Bingley’s hopeful words.
The trees had dropped their leaves, and it was a wintry landscape, missing only snow to complete the scene.
Everyone clutched their various coats, cloaks and pelisses tightly about them.
Jane immediately urged Mr. Bingley to sit on a stone bench with her. It was icy cold, of course, and he very gallantly spread his coat on it before allowing her to sit. Watching them, Elizabeth could not help her smile. “He will be good to her, will he not?” she asked Mr. Darcy.
“Bingley? Oh, most certainly; he would be good to her even if he did not love her so dearly,” Mr. Darcy said. “He cannot help it; he is a kind soul.”
“As is she,” Elizabeth murmured.
Mr. Darcy continued, “I rather regret that I am not more like him.”
“Do you, really?” Elizabeth was astonished.
“I do, yes; he makes friends easily, wherever he goes. For me, it is more difficult. I am not as trusting, not as open as he is.”
Elizabeth shook her head. “You have had a good deal more responsibility to bear than has he.”
Mr. Darcy offered his arm, and led her further into Longbourn’s acres.
Once they were out of sight of Jane and Mr. Bingley, Mr. Darcy stopped.
“Miss Elizabeth, you must know – surely you must know – how very much I love you. I would ask you to be my wife this very moment, but I think you need time to know your own heart; so today I ask only for a courtship. Dearest, loveliest Elizabeth, will you agree to that?”
Elizabeth breathed easier. She had, in fact, feared that this would be an offer of marriage.
She would have then had to ask for time, time in which to learn his character better; but the offer of a courtship was one which she felt she could easily accept.
She looked up at him, feeling that just now she could stare at him without being thought rude.
How tall he was! How grave his face just now, though she knew he could laugh easily enough!
It was good, she thought, that he looked so serious; it meant that he did not assume her answer would be in the affirmative.
He did not rely upon his wealth to win her; that was important.
And so it was with an easy heart that she said, “I would like that, Mr. Darcy.”
He raised her gloved hands to his lips and kissed them both. “Thank you, Miss Elizabeth. I could not be happier!”
“Mr. Darcy, I ask one thing,” Elizabeth said. She spoke quickly, knowing that her courage would fail her if she waited too long.
“Anything,” he vowed.
“I need to know your true character, sir. I hope that you will not disguise yourself in any way in the coming days.” She spoke in a rush and then stopped.
‘Ah,’ he thought. ‘Her parents.’ He spoke aloud.
“I understand. Very well; you have my word.
I shall not disguise myself in any way.“ He hesitated, and then added, “I like both your parents very much; I hope you understand that the disappointment and fear that have gripped them these many years can alter the best of characters. Things might have been very different had the entail not cast such a long shadow.”
‘He understands,’ she thought. ‘Better than I do!’ She nodded and said, very softly. “Thank you.”