Chapter Fourteen The Prophecy #4
Mr Bennet turned his scrutiny on him at last. “You will forgive me if I do not surrender my daughter to the first wealthy gentleman who takes her hand at a ball. Her mother has long considered that sufficient qualification, which has obliged me to provide resistance for us both.”
“You owe me no apology, sir.”
“There are matters concerning you which remain unexplained.” Mr Bennet’s voice had lowered until only Miss Elizabeth, Darcy, and Sir William could hear him clearly.
“This household runs in uncommon habits. Mr Wickham appears to have departed under circumstances which no one wishes to describe, my cousin entered the ballroom in another man’s shirt and without the walking stick to which he had been attached all evening, and my daughter has spent much of the final dance conferring with a punch bowl. ”
Darcy held his eyes. “You are entitled to an explanation, sir, and you shall receive one.”
“Before the wedding?”
“Before morning, if you permit me to call at Longbourn after the ball ends.”
Mr Bennet shifted his eyes to Miss Elizabeth. “Do you know what he intends to explain?”
“I know enough to have accepted him freely. There are details which ought to be discussed in private, but I am neither deceived nor in danger.”
“That is a broad assurance, Elizabeth.”
Miss Elizabeth’s mouth curved. “It is valid, though.”
Darcy could not allow her to carry the burden of his secrecy. “Mr Bennet, I give you my word that no harm came to her. She knows the truth of my circumstances and has chosen me despite them. I will conceal nothing from you which affects her safety or her future.”
Mr Bennet regarded him for a long interval, neither intimidated by his rank nor persuaded by his fortune.
Darcy had expected suspicion and would have respected opposition.
What he had not expected was the severity of a father who understood that affection might place an intelligent woman in danger of disregarding her own happiness.
“You admire her now,” Mr Bennet murmured. “Marriage will require you to respect her when admiration becomes inconvenient.”
“I already find respect for her extremely inconvenient.”
Miss Elizabeth turned her face aside, but not before Darcy caught the beginning of a smile.
Mr Bennet’s expression altered by the smallest degree. “That is the first sensible argument you have offered.”
“I love her. I will protect her without imprisoning her, listen when she corrects me, and endeavour not to presume that age has made me wiser than she is.”
She gave his hand a pointed squeeze.
“Often,” Darcy amended. “I shall endeavour often.”
“You begin with an ambitious programme.” Mr Bennet rose and extended one hand. “You have my blessing, Mr Darcy. I advise you to remember that Lizzy has never accepted management graciously, and that I have four other daughters through whom retaliation may be arranged.”
Darcy clasped his hand. “I shall remember.”
Mrs Bennet’s restraint expired.
“Ten thousand a year!”
The words left the card room, entered the ballroom, and defeated the musicians.
Several bows halted in mid-stroke as Mrs Bennet rushed forwards, embraced her daughter, attempted to embrace Darcy, changed direction when confronted by the width of his shoulders and caught hold of the candelabrum instead.
“Ten thousand a year, Lizzy! Perhaps more, for Pemberley must be worth a great deal beyond its annual income, and there will be jewels, carriages, and houses in town. Mrs Long has always insisted that her niece’s husband has five thousand, though everyone knows it cannot be more than three, and now she will be obliged to hear that my daughter has married Mr Darcy. ”
“My dear,” Mr Bennet rescued the candelabrum before her enthusiasm overturned it, “allow the gentleman to survive his engagement before you begin distributing his income.”
Mrs Bennet released it and seized both of Darcy’s hands. Her pulse raced against his gloves, but the scent of her blood inspired no hunger. Terror had advantages which vampire scholars had neglected to record.
“My dear Mr Darcy, you must forgive every foolish thing I may ever have spoken about you. I always knew you were a most distinguished gentleman, even when you were disagreeable at the assembly, and if I described you afterwards as proud, unpleasant, too tall, and unworthy of any of my daughters, it was only because I had not then understood your character.”
“I am grateful that my income has clarified it.”
Mr Bennet coughed into one hand. Miss Elizabeth made no attempt to conceal her amusement, while Mrs Bennet accepted Darcy’s observation as evidence of modesty.
Bingley, with Miss Bennet firmly attached to his arm, was smiling broadly.
His happiness was so complete that Darcy feared he might announce an engagement of his own through sheer sympathy.
He embraced Darcy before remembering that gentlemen were surrounded by spectators, stepped back, and offered Miss Elizabeth both hands instead.
“This is the finest news imaginable. You shall be at Netherfield constantly, unless we are at Pemberley, or perhaps we shall all live at Pemberley, though Caroline may object to being transported without consultation.”
“I should object chiefly to your assuming that an engagement gives you possession of another man’s estate.
” Miss Bingley approached more slowly, Mrs Hurst beside her and Fletcher behind them, still carrying the bowl.
“Pemberley contains many rooms, but I doubt that Mr Darcy intends to fill all of them with Bingleys.”
Bingley grinned. “He may keep several for himself.”
Miss Bennet embraced Miss Elizabeth, and whatever she whispered brought colour to her sister’s face.
Darcy could not hear the words through the congratulations which were now coming from everywhere.
Sir William bowed to him, rose, and bowed again, praising the distinguished union of two families and the superior advantage of matrimonial happiness.
Colonel Forster offered his hand. Lady Lucas kissed Miss Elizabeth’s cheek.
Three women whose names Darcy could not recall informed him that they had predicted the engagement at the assembly, though two of them had spent that evening assuring Miss Bingley that Miss Elizabeth was tolerable only in poor light.
Mrs Hurst reached them through the gathering and offered Darcy a cool hand.
“You have arranged mortality and marriage during the same evening,” she whispered, her fingers closing firmly around his. “Most gentlemen require considerably longer to accomplish either.”
“You neglected the destruction of Wickham, Mrs Hurst.” Darcy offered Louisa Hurst a warm smile, well, as warm as a vampire could muster. She had always been the quiet strength behind her siblings, her husband, and Darcy himself at times.
“I considered that the least troublesome part,” she said, smiling back.
Miss Bingley was beside Miss Elizabeth. For one uneasy moment, Darcy saw the cost of the announcement in the careful stillness of her face.
Miss Bingley had pursued him openly, irritated him frequently, and built expectations which he had never encouraged, but disappointment did not become ridiculous merely because ambition had helped to create it.
She extended her hand to Miss Elizabeth. “You have secured what no one else could obtain, Miss Elizabeth.”
“I did not mean to cause you pain.”
“No woman means to cause pain when she succeeds.” Miss Bingley’s fingers rested briefly in hers. “I hope you will be very happy.”
“Thank you.”
The courtesy cost them both, and Darcy respected Miss Bingley for paying it without demanding that anyone admire the expense.
Behind her, the punch bowl shifted in Fletcher’s arms. It stretched towards Miss Elizabeth, slipped several inches, and nearly escaped before Fletcher caught it against his waistcoat.
“Not now,” he warned under his breath. “You have made your position perfectly clear.”