Chapter Nineteen #3
“I have vented my spleen with Anne, and have come to learn her reasons for all her transgressions against me. And then I walked along the beach and pondered the whole situation, unable to make sense of it all. I found that I was merely relieved, more relieved than I have ever been.”
Mr. Darcy gestured for her to sit on the sofa beside him, and as she did so his arm encircled her shoulders in a way that felt natural and wonderful.
It was so utterly thrilling that in her elation, Elizabeth shifted herself so that her legs rested over his lap.
Her fingers caressed his cheek and then found their way into his hair, relishing the feel of the soft, dark curls.
The intensity of his gaze sent a shiver through her body, and she kissed him again.
He returned her ardor for a moment before drawing back with a longing look, and Elizabeth became aware of the possibility that they may become entirely carried away.
She did wish to hear him, to know all that had transpired and all that he was feeling, and yet the indulgence of her attraction to him threatened to consume her.
She let out a shaky breath and nodded. “Tell me everything.”
“Lady Parker told me why she answered the advert on your behalf. My first instinct was fury at the humiliation of it, of being duped by my cousin. But I understand your reasons, and I have even begun to accept Anne’s reasons.”
“She was forced into the engagement by her mother, who was blackmailing you,” Elizabeth said sadly. Mr. Darcy was a dear man indeed if he could forgive his cousin for prolonging his false hope for nearly two years.
“Is blackmailing me,” Mr. Darcy sighed. “I have much to tell you of what Anne has endured, which has inspired my sympathy and regret. But the threat of my aunt still hangs over us, though Richard has given me hope that something may be done.”
“The dowager countess,” Elizabeth prompted him, tracing his jawline with curious fingers.
He let out a hum of contentment and nodded.
“I supposed Georgiana would not be able to resist telling you. My poor sister would throw away her reputation if it came to that, but I am determined to find some other way, and with Anne in agreement to break free of the arrangement, I am determined that I shall.”
“Georgiana said that she will suggest the colonel travel to Rosings and see if he can gain access to your aunt’s study to get her information,” Elizabeth said.
“That is a fine idea.” He let out a low moan as her fingers ran over his lips. “Good God, Elizabeth! Say you will marry me.”
Before she could answer, he had pulled her fully into his lap and kissed her with even greater passion this time.
She gave over to the heat of the moment, and when he again drew away with ragged breath, Elizabeth rested her forehead against his.
She rubbed their noses together and giggled.
“That is a fine idea. Of course I will marry you. We have been engaged for a year and a half, after all.”
He pulled his head back just enough to gaze at her with wonder as his hands gently stroked her back.
“It is incredible. It was really you who composed the words I fell in love with, just as I have fallen in love with you here and now, since coming to Sanditon. I cannot believe I did not realize, for you bear such a marked similarity to the woman I corresponded with; only my own pigheadedness convinced me it was Anne.”
Elizabeth reached for the bundle of letters. “I cannot tell you how I cherished every letter—I kept them all and wept with insurmountable grief when Miss Penny instructed me to terminate the correspondence.”
Mr. Darcy reached into his coat pocket and produced a nearly identical packet.
“I understand that Miss Lovelace acted as intermediary and copied out the letters, leaving out any details of mine that indicated who I was, and any words of yours that would make it apparent that Anne was not the writer.”
“I wonder….” Elizabeth sighed, thinking forlornly of what might have been omitted.
She and her beloved arranged themselves cozily on the sofa, and for the better part of an hour they sat together and read the letters, filling in whatever details they could recall that had not been included.
There was an overpowering sense of rightness in it as Elizabeth came to know Mr. Darcy more fully, and told him of herself in a way that her letters had never fully expressed.
Mr. Darcy spoke with Sir Edward that afternoon, and with Elizabeth’s assistance the entire ordeal was explained, sparingly only the details of Georgiana’s great secret.
Elizabeth’s uncle gave his consent for their betrothal, acknowledging that Elizabeth was of age, and her father was not likely to refuse anything of a man such as Mr. Darcy.
It was agreed upon that the engagement would remain secret until Mr. Darcy was free of his aunt’s hold on him, and Sir Edward declared that he would ready the finest room at the hotel dowager countess—he ought to impress her, if they were to become relations.