CHAPTER 23 #2
Eventually, they knew they could not linger in the safety of the library forever, however tempting its quiet had become, and so they went out to meet the cacophony that awaited them.
Upon withdrawing, the couple found Mrs. Bennet, already halfway to a decline of the happiest possible kind, seated upon the sofa with her hand pressed to her heart and Hill hovering nearby with the smelling salts held ready, though plainly not required.
"Oh, Mr. Darcy!" She rose the moment they entered, and would have taken both his hands had Mr. Bennet's dry cough from the doorway not reminded her, a beat too late, of the proprieties.
"Ten thousand a year, and Pemberley besides, and I always said, did I not always say, Mr. Bennet?
That Lizzy would do very well for herself, for all her willfulness, and here is the proof of it.
I am sure I do not know how I shall bear the joy of it, on top of everything else this family has had to bear this fortnight, what with all that dreadful talk, but no matter, no matter, it will all be forgot the moment the notice is in the papers, and everyone in Meryton eating their words along with their dinner! "
Mr. Darcy found himself rather paralyzed by the lady's profusions, and could contrive no better response than a bow and some murmured thanks.
Jane came to Elizabeth first, taking both her hands with an unguarded gladness, as Jane's eyes let out particular tears that she permitted herself only for the truest joys, "I am so very happy for you, Lizzy," she managed at last. "I do not think I have ever seen you look at anyone the way you look at him. "
"I did not think I should ever look at anyone this way either," Elizabeth admitted, low, for Jane alone. "Least of all him."
Kitty wanted only to know whether there should be a great wedding with a great many guests, and whether she might be permitted new ribbons for the occasion regardless of the answer; Mary offered, with great solemnity, some observation upon the superior steadiness of affection built through adversity as opposed to affection built merely through a fortunate situation in society, which no one attended to particularly, though it was kindly meant.
Mr. Bennet retreated behind his newspaper once more, though Elizabeth caught him, twice, looking over its edge at Darcy with an expression that had shed a good deal of its earlier reserve.
Darcy bore it all, the transports, the ribbons, Mary's philosophy, with a patience Elizabeth had not been entirely certain he possessed, but was abundantly glad he did.
***
The evening wanted only Mr. Bennet's grudging toast, offered in a tone of such perfect dryness that it took Mrs. Bennet a full minute to realize she had been the subject of a small joke at all, before the household settled.
Mr. Darcy seated by the fire with a cup of tea he did not particularly want, enduring Mrs. Bennet's inquiries into the precise number of Pemberley's chimneys with the forbearance of a man who understood exactly what such questions cost his betrothed to overhear.
It was only much later, when the house had gone quiet and the candles burned low, that Elizabeth found a moment alone with him in the passage outside the drawing room.
"Elizabeth, I leave for Kent tomorrow."
"Tomorrow." She said it with a sigh, though trying to be light. "I confess I had rather hoped Anne’s mysteries might wait a week longer, sir, if only for my own benefit."
"At first light, if the horses can be got ready in time.
" He took her hand, turning it over in his.
"I do not go easily, Elizabeth. I would far rather remain here and endure your mother's questions about chimneys for a twelvemonth than ride to Rosings.
But I do not think I shall rest easy, nor, I suspect, shall you, until this business of Anne and the letter is run to its proper ground. "
"No," Elizabeth agreed. "I confess I shall not."
"I will write the moment I have anything worth the writing, and if I have nothing worth the writing, I shall write regardless, so that you are not left a fortnight in silence wondering whether Lady Catherine has had me thrown from the grounds."
"I begin to think that a very real possibility, sir, knowing her ladyship as I do."
"Then you will forgive me if I go armed this time with rather more than a pistol in my coat.
" Something dry moved at the corner of his mouth, though his eyes, when they met hers, held none of the humor his voice had borrowed.
"I do not like leaving you so soon after finding you.
I want that said plainly, before I go, whatever else remains unsaid between us on the subject. "
"Then go quickly, and finish your business quickly," Elizabeth said, "for I find I have very little patience for being parted from you now that I have grown so thoroughly unaccustomed to it."
He raised her hand and pressed his lips to it; his chaste kiss felt like a balm, sending blissful sensations throughout her being.
Elizabeth did not want him to go, and, if she were honest, longed to be held in his strong arms. I’m becoming entirely wanton, she thought, chastising herself.
Though, despite herself, she kept thinking of how delightfully it would be to be in his arms.
"Until Kent, then," he said, rubbing his jaw.
Though, what he really meant to do was kiss her soundly and tell her she was his forevermore.
And, that he would marry her as soon as could be, and that they would never part again.
Though, prudence pushed him to tuck away those intrusive thoughts until he returned.
Elizabeth nodded in agreement, "Until Kent," she said.
He gave her a genteel sort of bow, ever determined to display good manners, then turned to mount his horse and depart.
She, however, stood a long while in the quiet passage after he had gone, listening to the house settle around her, and owning that she felt the particular ache of missing a man; it was an entirely new sensation for Elizabeth, and she found it was not one she, on the whole, enjoyed nearly so much as she had enjoyed in disliking him.