Chapter Twenty-six #2
“They are rather…boisterous,” he pointed out. “Let the young men partner them in the Scottish reel. I imagine there will be great laughter and squeals of delight.”
“Not your style, Mr. Darcy?” Lizzy asked, looking up at him with a teasing light in her eyes.
“No. Definitely not my style,” he murmured softly. “You are my style, Miss Elizabeth.”
Lizzy caught her breath, feeling her cheeks warm. She did not know how to respond, so she fell back on the commonplace. “You look very fine tonight, sir, in your snowy cravat.”
Mr. Darcy leaned close to her ear and whispered, “Not so fine as you do, my dear Miss Elizabeth.”
Lizzy pressed a hand to her throat, saying, “My goodness, Mr. Darcy. What a load of falderal. I did not think of you as such a sweet talker.”
“I am entirely serious, my dear,” he replied huskily. “You are more beautiful to me than any other lady here.”
Her knees felt wobbly. She instinctively reached out to steady herself, and Mr. Darcy took her elbow.
“You should not say such things,” Lizzy whispered.
“Why not?” he asked, his breath warm against her temple.
“Well…I have a bull.”
To Lizzy’s immense surprise, Mr. Darcy threw back his head and laughed—laughed loud enough to draw every eye in the room to them. At that moment, the musicians began to play and Mr. Darcy swept her into the movements of the minuet.
“I will find a drover,” he said to her in the midst of a step, almost causing Lizzy to stumble. “Mind yourself,” he said gently, steadying her.
“I do not think Clover will like a drover,” she told him.
“You will reassure him as we follow along,” Mr. Darcy said, seemingly unconcerned with the length of time such a journey might take.
“It would take—”
“Approximately a fortnight,” Mr. Darcy assured her.
“A fortnight…” Lizzy marveled. She glanced up at him as they moved through the steps of the dance. “You have thought about this.”
“I have. Your bull seemed the chief obstacle to obtaining my desire,” he said in a mild way, his expression such that no one would have a clue as to the subject of their conversation.
Lizzy bit her lip and blinked a few times as she considered if she wished to be bold or not. In her mind she thought she heard a small voice say, “Ask him! Ask him!”.
Is that Jeffry? No, do not be fanciful. Besides, I am not one to be ordered about by a guinea pig—even a gypsy’s guinea pig. Indeed, I am not.
Finally, Lizzy forged ahead in spite of her thoughts, and simply asked, “What is your desire, Mr. Darcy?”
“You are my desire, my dear Miss Elizabeth,” he confessed.
Lizzy swallowed. This is a declaration! In the middle of the minuet figure. We are the first couple to dance it. Everyone is watching! What is Mr. Darcy doing to declare himself at this moment?
“Have I offended you, Miss Elizabeth?” he asked softly as their heads drew closer for a step or two of the dance.
“We must find p…privacy,” she sputtered back at him.
“I agree,” he replied. “We are almost done our part.”
Silently overflowing with emotion, Lizzy kept her mouth closed and her expression contained until they finished the figure.
Mr. Darcy led her away from her mother to a spot behind a pillar, hidden by enormous pots of white Michaelmas daisies.
They sat on a Grecian bench placed there.
This is it…this is the moment. I am trembling all over.
Darcy took Miss Elizabeth’s quivering gloved hands in his.
He raised them to his lips and kissed her knuckles.
His heart felt tight, and he could scarcely breathe.
What will she say? Will I need to beg? Will she say she loves me?
He took a shuddering breath and lowered her hands, but kept hold of them for dear life.
“I…I confess to having no practice at making delicate love to a lady in an assembly room. But, dear, dear heart, pray believe me when I tell you I love you. I love you more than I can convey.”
To his surprise, she chuckled. He must have looked shocked for she shook her head and smiled crookedly. “My first thought, sir, was that you must love me exceedingly if you are willing to take Clover as my dowry.”
Darcy clasped her hands to his chest. “I will take whichever animals you wish to bring as your dowry if only you will tell me you love me.” His beloved lifted her gaze to his. “Dear Elizabeth, your eyes shine like stars.”
“They glow with my love for you, darling Mr. Darcy,” she said in a voice that choked with emotion. “I did not think such a love was possible. I wondered how someone like you could love someone like me.”
Darcy cupped her cheek in his hand. “You are adorable, Elizabeth. So compassionate, so lively, so loving, so intelligent.” He looked up and around them, making certain no one spied out their business.
Once assured, he gently touched her tender lips with his own.
After he drew back, he frowned at her in gentle mockery. “What do you mean, someone like me?”
“I meant,” she said, her cheeks blazing, “someone so grand, so wealthy, so…”
“So proud?” he asked, and held his breath for her answer.
“So…wonderful,” she said as a sigh. But then, she frowned.
“You have no improper pride. I will not permit anyone to say that about you.” She covered his hand with her own.
“But you must learn to like running. I wish to run with you over the meadows and through the woods of Pemberley House. I promise you it is an exhilarating form of exercise.”
“I will run through my estate with you, Elizabeth, if only you will call me Darcy,” he said, his heart so full he thought he might expire of happiness right there on the Grecian bench.
“You do not wish me to call you Fitz?” she asked, her expressive eye sparkling again.
“Fitz, if you wish.”
“I think Fitz-darling, might be best,” Elizabeth said lovingly. “In private.”
“In private,” Darcy repeated. He longed to take her into his arms and hold her next to his heart. “When shall we be married?”
“Jane is marrying in May,” she told him. “I want her to have her own day. What do you say to June?”
“We must think of Clover,” Darcy said, turning them to face outward, side-by-side like any two assembly attendees.
“By the end of June, the roads will be dryer, but not hard-packed. The grazing will be fine and green. Drovers stop at inns who welcome their trade, and where there are paddocks to hold the animals. Clover must rest and eat well in preparation for the next day. I think the end of June will be perfect.”
“Will that journey be our honeymoon?” Elizabeth asked, sounding eager. “I have no objection to it.”
“Yes, though perhaps once we arrive, and the animals are settled, we might withdraw to my hunting lodge for another fortnight.”
“That sounds heavenly,” Elizabeth assured him.
He stood and drew her up beside him. “If you do not dislike it, I will leave here for a time and go to your father. I will return in time for the supper dance with good news.”
“I do not dislike it in the least.” She frowned in mock fierceness at him. “But we shall not tell my mother tonight, if you please. I would much rather tell her in the morning, in the privacy of my own home.”
“I agree. Private will be better,” Darcy said. He took a deep breath, removed the softness from his expression, and led her back to her mother. He bowed politely and stalked off.
“Well,” Lizzy’s mama muttered with some acidity. “A fine man he might be, Lizzy, but he does not have the open manners I prefer. Perhaps it is as well he does not fancy you, my dear.”
“Yes, Mama,” Lizzy replied sanguinely. She smiled and curtsied to her next partner. I am to be married! To Mr. Darcy! I can scarcely credit it. He loves me. And I love him. Dear Lord, thank you! Thank you so very much.
Though Lizzy thought herself floating across the floor, she made it to her position in the country dance without mishap.
She smiled and nodded and chuckled to her partner’s occasional sallies.
But her mind was impolitely not on the dance floor.
Rather it followed Mr. Darcy through Meryton to Longbourn Village, and from there to her father’s bookroom.
After her set ended, she sought a few minutes of Jane’s company.
However, Jane sat with Mr. Bingley, their heads together, their hands clasped.
So, instead, Lizzy sought out her dearest friend, who had returned to town yesterday, in time for the assembly today.
She found Charlotte in a corner, fortuitously standing alone.
“Have you not been dancing?” Lizzy asked her as she took her arm and hugged it. “You look very nice.”
“I look acceptable, and I have been dancing,” Charlotte promised. “My last partner is bringing me a glass of punch.”
“Then I have very little time,” Lizzy whispered. “You must not show any expression, mind, other than mild pleasure.”
“What is this about, Lizzy?” she asked, her eyebrows high.
“Too much emotion, dearest,” Lizzy admonished, turning them partway toward one wall. “Mr. Darcy left the assembly to speak to my father.”