Chapter Twelve #3
“Fitzwilliam,” she repeated, enjoying this new power to inspire such a passionate expression in him. “But perhaps we ought to speak to Papa together. I fear you overestimate your own chances of success.”
He came to a stop in the chaotic mess of the front hall. “Surely your father would not refuse my suit. We have been nearly alone together for four days and the whole village knows it—just as they have been aware, since first I arrived, of my exceedingly eligible circumstances.”
Elizabeth bit back a wicked grin. “Oh dear—my father is also aware of the comments you made the night of the assembly, and he believes that I despise you—he will surely make a great lark of it, once he has finished giving us both a thorough dressing down for….” Elizabeth gestured broadly at the desultory wreckage heaped around them.
Mr. Darcy’s eyes went wide in alarm, before his lips began to quirk upward, and he shook his head bemusedly. “Then you shall have to join us, and explain yourself. I believe I shall enjoy listening to you defend my honor to your father.”
Astonished laughter bubbled out of her as Elizabeth led him by the hand, stepping out the front door and across the gravel drive, where the sight of the colorful carriage once again arrested her.
It came to a stop just a few yards away, and the tall, broad-shouldered driver hopped down from a small perch to one side of a door at the front of the caravan.
As he unhitched the pair of horses and led them away, the door of the caravan opened, and a shiny red step-ladder folded down.
Mr. Bennet appeared, paused to make a droll face at the sight of Elizabeth standing beside Mr. Darcy, and then sauntered toward them with his brow raised.
“Well, Lizzy, I had imagined returning to find you all alone, and eager for the embrace of your family. Not that I should prefer you to present such a pitiful sight—but I had certainly never imagined one such as this!”
Elizabeth crossed her arms in front of her chest, her lips twisting in a sardonic smirk. She truly wished to throw herself into her his arms and weep with joy, but she would not give in so easily; she had to teach her dear Fitzwilliam how to handle her father’s odd humors.
“Neither had I expected you to return in such a stylish mode as this—indeed, I was beginning to despair of my family ever returning for me. But I can hardly complain, when I have been treated to the grandest arrival I have had the privilege of witnessing since the night of the assembly in September.” She could not resist needling Mr. Darcy just a little, though she gave his hand a reassuring squeeze, and he smiled indulgently at her jest.
“Yes, that gentleman seems to have made quite an impression on you, my dear,” Mr. Bennet quipped.
“I suppose he has made tolerable company while your family has been away, and if my eyes are to be trusted, it appears you have finally managed to tempt him. I shall require an immediate explanation, of course, Mr. Darcy.”
Over the next half hour, Elizabeth and Mr. Darcy recounted all that had transpired, though they were first obliged to bear all his shock and dismay at the shambles he beheld as soon as they entered the house.
Mr. Bennet said not a word as he surveyed the front hall, but let out an exaggerated exclamation of relief that his book room was still intact.
Mr. Darcy moved the large cabinet that had been brought in to block any entry from outside; when a cold wind blew in through the open window, Elizabeth added a few pieces of wood to the fireplace and Mr. Darcy produced a flint and char cloth to ignite the tinder, breathing on the small flame until it began to blaze.
Mr. Bennet observed the pair of them working silently together, his face conveying interest and amusement, as well as some lingering wariness.
He bid them sit down, and listened with every proper reaction, being alarmed, impressed, and amused in turn as they detailed the events that had transpired in his absence.
Mr. Darcy handled everything with his usual laconic dignity, though Elizabeth’s improved understanding of him allowed her to appreciate that he was yielding to her, letting her tell their story in his own words.
He confirmed every fact and detail when called upon to do so, but he did not interrupt her or attempt to speak on her behalf as if she was not present. She utterly adored him for it.
Elizabeth held nothing back. She spoke of her initial excitement at being home alone, and then the despair that followed, her fear and disgust at learning what the Red Bandits planned, and the growing fondness and affection she had come to feel for Mr. Darcy and, in a more sisterly way, Georgiana, as they all worked together to defend Longbourn.
She praised the Hills, Wilson, the surprisingly fierce Mrs. Annesley, and the valiant Captain Denny; Mr. Darcy interjected his own praise of Elizabeth’s bravery, and spoke to Mr. Bennet of his own attachment to Elizabeth, explaining that it had been of much longer duration and that he meant to obtain a special license in London as soon as the morrow, and wed her, if possible, before they continued their journey north.