Chapter 24
TWENTY-FOUR
At the end of January, Elizabeth and the Fitzwilliams removed to Romsley Hall, with promises of seeing the Sterlings again in town in early April.
There was some discussion that Elizabeth belonged more at Hillsdale—the ancestral home of the Sterlings—than at Romsley Hall, and that she had spent weeks with Lady Romsley already.
But the Fitzwilliams wanted her to know their home, too, as she would have had she returned to the family sooner.
Unspoken was also the matter of her being able to see Mr Darcy again.
He and Georgiana would be at Romsley Hall at the start of February.
Finally, and also unspoken, was that, while Elizabeth knew she would love her Sterling relations as much as she had come to love her Fitzwilliam ones, she had more of a connexion to the latter, especially to Lady Romsley, who was quickly becoming like another mother to her—different from Mrs Bennet but similarly important in her heart.
It was the countess who had been instrumental in making her feel as though she belonged, Lady Romsley who had helped Elizabeth know her father, just as Mr Bennet had helped her know her mother.
Romsley Hall was a beautiful estate, even in winter.
The manor, which was well maintained and attractive, was in the Queen Anne style and nearly a century old.
The countess had arranged to have a chamber in the family portion of the house redecorated to Elizabeth’s tastes.
It was a large apartment with an attached sitting room.
The walls and furniture were done in soft pinks and ivory, and there was a particularly comfortable chaise longue near the fireplace where she knew she would spend hours curled up, reading or dreaming.
The family gathered in a bright, informal drawing room to greet Mr Darcy and Georgiana the afternoon they were expected.
Bramwell and Fitzwilliam teased her about being distracted, and she took a moment when the earl and countess were otherwise occupied to ask her cousins what their parents truly thought of her connexion to Mr Darcy.
“They do not disapprove, I believe,” she said. “But are they worried it would be too soon if he were to…?”
“Propose?” Bramwell said. “I am surprised he has not already, given the way he was looking at you at the ball. Shall I give him advice on how to do it?”
“You have enough experience!” Fitzwilliam said and guffawed.
“No, thank you,” she replied, giving her cousins mock reproving looks. “You know that he and I were not exactly friends when we first met.”
Both gentlemen nodded, and Bramwell said, “If you are concerned that his decision to pursue you is only because of your changed circumstances—”
“I am not,” she interjected. She nibbled her lower lip, and Fitzwilliam encouraged her to tell them what was on her mind.
Nodding, she continued. “At the ball, I implied that I required more time to be with my new family. Perhaps I said it directly. I no longer recall. But I had not met the Sterlings then, and now that I have done so, something has changed. I suspect your mother would be glad to keep me with her longer.”
“For a decade or two, at least,” Fitzwilliam said.
All three of them chuckled.
“But you cannot resist my cousin’s charms and would like to secure him before some other lady tricks him into marriage?” Bramwell asked.
Elizabeth rolled her eyes. “More or less, though I hope his affections are not so changeable.”
Her cousins gave her the assurances she needed.
The thought that she might be disappointing her aunt or causing some tension between her and Mr Darcy, and perhaps also the earl and Mr Darcy, had been gnawing at her, competing with her anticipation at seeing him again and soon hearing him declare his love for her.
When at last he and Georgiana arrived, Elizabeth’s heart sang at the sight of him.
That, more than anything else, told her how true her love for him was and that she was right that she was prepared for them to take the next step.
After sharing an embrace with Georgiana, Elizabeth held out a hand to him, which he took and pressed gently.
“Elizabeth, I am glad to see you again,” he said, his voice smooth and warm, like a rich cup of chocolate.
“And I am glad to see you,” she returned, her eyes steady and unblinking on his, hoping he understood how much she meant it.
“It is wonderful that we are all together again!” Lady Romsley said. “It would be even better if my brother and his family and the Darcys could be here, but another time, we shall have just such a gathering of our dearest relations and friends.”
“Perhaps next summer,” the earl suggested.
“I say it should be at Pemberley,” Bramwell said. He grinned and looked at Elizabeth. “My cousin has never hosted such a large party, which is only to be expected, since he is a bachelor.”
“You are assuming he will not still be single in the summer?” Fitzwilliam asked, his tone disingenuous.
“I do not understand,” Georgiana said. Immediately, her eyes widened and her mouth hung open as her gaze went from her brother to Elizabeth, whose cheeks were afire with embarrassment.
“Enough,” Lord Romsley said. “Let us enjoy ourselves for now. Any talk of the future—even so near as July or August—can wait.”
They did just that. Elizabeth relished exploring the estate and neighbourhood and, most of all, being with Mr Darcy with fewer distractions than there had been in London.
Each day—each hour—spent in his company added to her certainty that she was in love and could not have chosen a finer potential husband.
Later that week, Bramwell went to Frederick Darcy’s estate to see Rebecca.
“I promised to escort to Pemberley whichever of the Darcys wished to go,” he announced.
“Rebecca will come, and if Mr and Mrs Darcy prefer to remain with their younger children, we shall do something or other to ensure the proprieties are adhered to, Mama. Do not worry.”
Within another day or two, Elizabeth found herself devising a means to encourage Mr Darcy to propose.
One morning, Fitzwilliam had joked that he would be glad to give his cousin a hint if he did not ‘do the business’ by the middle of the month, but she had forbidden him to act in such a ridiculous manner.
In the end, a trick was not necessary. Before then, Elizabeth received joyful news from Hertfordshire, and she rushed to share it with Mr Darcy.
It was early afternoon, and when she found him with Fitzwilliam, she asked if either of them would walk in the gardens with her, knowing her cousin would demur to give the couple time alone.
Once outside, strolling the paved paths, she said, “Jane wrote to tell me that she and Mr Bingley are engaged. Is it not the most excellent news? I am so pleased for her.” Intent as she was on her purpose, she hardly noticed what was about her, even though she found the Romsley Hall gardens delightful and anticipated seeing them in the summer when everything was growing and lush.
“I am pleased for them,” he said. “I suppose Bingley will think to write me with the news, although it might take him several weeks.”
She laughed and slipped her arm around his. “She has promised not to get married without me by her side.”
“Did she say when they will marry? Will it alter your ability to go to Pemberley?” he asked, his tone anxious.
“She is aware of my plans and has suggested they might wed in mid-April. I would not want to ask her to delay longer than that, and I suspect Mrs Bennet would hate the mere thought of putting it off. Mr Bingley will wish for you to be there?”
“Probably. Not only because we are friends but also because of the connexion we now have through you.”
And, soon enough, that connexion will become even more substantial! “I suppose Jane will have her sisters as bridesmaids.”
He stopped walking and regarded her, frowning lightly. “Her sisters? What about you?”
Elizabeth smiled coquettishly. “I was thinking of standing by her side in a different role—although I do not know if I would be standing by her side precisely. Still, I believe I might find a reason to be at the front of the church. We both might, you and I. Mr Bingley and Jane would not object, I am sure.”
An enormous grin overtook his features. Elizabeth had never seen such an expression of elation before. Her eyes began to fill with happy tears, and she hoped they would not fall, because she would be unable to brush them away, given the firm grip her beloved had on her hands.
“Elizabeth,” he said, his voice unsteady. “Do you mean—? Of course you do. You would not— Let me begin again. Elizabeth, my darling, wonderful, most beautiful Elizabeth, you must know how ardently I admire and love you.”
Eagerly, she nodded. “But do you know how ardently I admire and love you?”
He kissed her gloved hands. “I have never wanted anything more than I do for you to be my wife. I was such a fool last autumn when I almost—when I did walk away, too bound by pride and societal expectations. Every day since I saw you again in Grosvenor Square, I have given thanks that you were brought back into my life, that I had been granted the opportunity of correcting my mistake, and I have attempted to earn your esteem.”
“You have!” she cried. “Let us not think of when we knew one another in Hertfordshire. It no longer matters, not now that we know who each other truly is. To me, you are the perfect gentleman, the one most suited to making me happy all the days of my life. I am fortunate to be surrounded by excellent gentlemen. My cousins, my uncles, and most of all, you.”
He kissed her. At first, their hands remained clasped together between them, but soon, he embraced her properly, and she pulled him towards her, her arms about his waist. They remained thus until the loud call of a bird recalled them to their senses.