Chapter 21 #2
“My first marriage was undertaken from duty and convenience rather than affection. I was fortunate enough to care for your mother’s predecessor in my own fashion, but I learned early that esteem and comfort, though valuable, are poor substitutes for marrying the person whose company you most desire. ”
He faced her again, his eyes unexpectedly bright.
“To love and respect one’s partner is infinitely preferable. If you possess both, my dear, you are richer than any heiress in England.”
Elizabeth rose and embraced him.
“Thank you.”
Mr. Bennet kissed her cheek.
“You and Darcy will be very happy together. I am convinced of it.”
When they stepped into the hall once more, Darcy was waiting just beyond the doorway. The noise from the drawing room drifted faintly toward them—Lydia’s voice rising above the others at irregular intervals—but it seemed distant beside the quiet awareness that settled immediately between them.
For a moment neither spoke.
Darcy looked at her as though he still found it difficult to believe she stood before him freely and willingly promised to his future. Some trace of the strain he had carried through the interview with Mr. Bennet lingered still about his expression, though relief had lightened it considerably.
“You are quite certain?” he asked quietly.
Elizabeth blinked. “Certain?”
“That you do not regret this.” His gaze held hers steadily, though vulnerability lay plainly beneath the composure. “That the circumstances have not hurried you into accepting me before you were fully prepared.”
The question touched her far more deeply than confidence could have done.
“Mr. Darcy,” she said gently, “I believe I accepted you long before either of us fully understood that you were asking.”
Something warm and wholly unguarded crossed his face then. Happiness suited him astonishingly well.
He lifted her hand slowly and pressed his lips against her knuckles.
“I do not think,” he said, “that I shall ever cease being grateful to hear you say so.”
Elizabeth laughed, though emotion still lingered perilously near the surface. “You speak as though I have bestowed some extraordinary favor.”
“You have.”
The answer came without hesitation.
“You have altered my life completely.”
The sincerity of it left her briefly unable to reply.
Down the corridor, Toby’s voice rang out distinctly.
“We deserve extra pudding.”
Darcy closed his eyes briefly.
Elizabeth dissolved into helpless laughter.
“I fear my brothers intend to claim permanent credit for our engagement.”
“I am beginning to suspect the same.” He glanced toward the drawing room with grave resignation. “I shall apparently remain indebted to them for the remainder of my natural life.”
“That is a very dreadful prospect.”
“Truly alarming.”
Her laughter abated.
Standing there beside him, her hand still secure within his, Elizabeth felt the last remnants of uncertainty disappear altogether. Nothing about the future seemed frightening now. Not change. Not marriage. Not even the thought of one day leaving Longbourn.
Because wherever Darcy stood had already begun to feel remarkably like home.
As they left the library, voices drifted from the drawing room. Elizabeth reached the threshold just in time to hear Mr. Wilson speaking in a low tone to Mr. Bennet, who had apparently paused to allow the others to enter ahead.
Wilson’s expression was grave but composed.
“I congratulate Miss Elizabeth with all sincerity,” he said. “I cannot pretend disappointment is absent, but I believe I was competing against a sentiment long established. Once a woman looks at one gentleman as Miss Elizabeth looks at Mr. Darcy, another man has very little prospect.”
Mr. Bennet clasped his shoulder warmly.
“You are a sensible fellow, Wilson. There will be another lady who values you exactly as you deserve.”
Wilson bowed his head and stepped back.
Elizabeth’s esteem for him increased in that moment.
He met her gaze, bowed, and offered a disappointed but genuine smile.
“I wish you every happiness, Miss Elizabeth.”
“Thank you, Mr. Wilson.”
The drawing room fell silent when she entered beside her father.
Mr. Bennet surveyed the assembled company with evident satisfaction.
“It appears,” he said, “that Longbourn is to lose another daughter.”
Mrs. Bennet pressed her handkerchief to her eyes.
Jane shone with happiness.
Mr. Bingley seized Darcy’s hand and shook it so enthusiastically that Darcy was obliged to laugh.
“I knew it!” Bingley exclaimed. “I knew it from the moment you began bringing books to Mary.”
Jane embraced Elizabeth, whispering, “I am so very happy for you.”
Kitty clapped outright.
Lydia squealed and announced that she expected full recognition for services rendered.
Thomas and Toby launched themselves at Darcy simultaneously.
“We told you to hurry.”
“We saved you from Mr. Wilson.”
Darcy, with considerable dignity, accepted their embraces.
“You have been formidable allies.”
Mrs. Bennet kissed Elizabeth, then Darcy, then Elizabeth again.
“My dear children.”
Miss Bingley sat very straight upon the sofa, her smile so fixed that it scarcely appeared human.
“How delightful,” she said, each syllable polished to perfection.
Mrs. Hurst murmured her congratulations with rather more sincerity.
Mary, after consulting no authority whatsoever, declared that marriages founded upon mutual esteem and intellectual sympathy were the most likely to endure.
Mr. Bennet lowered himself into his favorite chair and surveyed the room with profound contentment. “Well,” he said, “I suppose the twins may now retire from public service.”
Thomas drew himself up. “Never.”
Toby nodded solemnly. “There are still weddings to organize.”
Lydia burst into laughter.
Of course, Mr. Bennet had known what his boys were doing! Elizabeth looked across the room to Darcy.
He stood surrounded by her family, her brothers clinging to his coat, her mother beaming, her father amused, her sisters radiant. He turned at that moment and met her eyes.
The expression in his face held no uncertainty now.
Only love. Only home. And Elizabeth, for the first time in her life, could look toward the future without the slightest desire to be anywhere else.