“Do you mean that?”
“I can tell you honestly that I felt wholly and completely happy.”
“You looked so… so delightful when you fell asleep.”
“Did I snore?” Darcy asked in a tone of some concern.
Elizabeth laughed. “Not more than a little. It was just your breath that sounded different… I felt happy.”
“I tell you truly… truly and honestly — I am not so unchangeable. I am not a lump of iron. Or if I am, I am an iron that has been heated and then shaped by the smith’s hammer blows — I was wrong. Deeply, profoundly, horribly wrong. I tell you this not to gain your sympathy, nor to change your mind. Simply I must confess it: I was wrong.”
“What… Fitzwilliam, what were you wrong about?”
“I have been the worst sort of selfish creature, and what was worse than that, I was a hypocrite. I have judged you and your family by a standard I refused to judge my own. I have thought meanly of you and your connections merely because they were of lesser scope than my own. And I have seen you as having value only insofar as I could detach you from them — I was the worst of men.”
“Never that!”
“My mind turned round upon this as I rode in search of my sister. Around, and around — again and again. For you see, I did not despise her for this shameful behavior. I only wanted to see her safe. And so…” Darcy swallowed. “I was wrong. I was so wrong and so selfish. I wanted you, but only on my own terms. I believe I never really thought ofyou, oryourhappiness. Yet… what sort of man could expect a woman who he claimed to love and respect to despise her own family and think meanly of those tied to her by bonds of affection, blood, and long familiarity? — so you see, I was the worst sort of man.”
“Only the best sort of man can admit he is wrong.”
“Elizabeth, my — if you will…”
“Yes,” she said, prompting him. She loved him so dearly, and her heart was full.
“If you will do me the honor to be my wife — for I ask you again, I swear, I will honor you and your family as I honor my own. I will love them, simply because you love them.”
Her heart was much too full to speak. Everything glowed inside of her.
No words came to her, so she kissed him passionately, and he kissed her back. Their teeth clicked against each other, and they held each other tightly until the cold prompted both of them to return inside.
It was only when they reached the door that Elizabeth suddenly remembered, “But when will we marry?”
“Tomorrow morning of course,” Darcy replied smiling.
“Oh.” Elizabeth felt an odd disappointment. She had been enjoying this time of having all her family together, including Darcy and now Georgiana. She did not want them to set off to the north immediately as they had planned at first. The next day was Christmas Eve, it seemed to her the worst of days to leave her family.
“Mr. Darcy, I wonder if—”
He poked her nose. “I know what you are thinking.”
“Oh?” She smiled, his tone brought her a promise of happiness and safety.
“Of course we won’t leave the neighborhood until after Sylvester.”
“No?”
“The house though does seem rather crowded with so many guests. It would be a kindness for your mother ifyoumight happen to stay in a room in the Meryton inn for the rest of the holiday season.”
Elizabeth glowed at him. She could not stop smiling for long enough to even tease him by pretending to consider the idea before agreeing.
“Does that notion then please you?”
She of course kissed him again.
Chapter Twenty Four
The Christmas Eve morning when Fitzwilliam Darcy was united in marriage with Elizabeth Bennet was one of the most perfect winter days that Darcy had ever seen. It had snowed the previous night, and the churchyard grounds were covered in a blanket of white. But the storm had exhausted itself, and the sky was cloudless except for a few white wisps high in the air. The snow glinted in the sunlight, like a bright field of gems.
