They left Lydia Bennet standing next to Caroline Bingley’s saddled horse on the empty rural road.
Chapter Twenty-Three
After they agreed to marry each other, Darcy and Elizabeth spent another hour in close and happy conversation as they continued to tramp around nature, over multiple anthills, and under numerous singing songbirds.
The conversation which followed was, however, too frequently peppered with kisses to be of any great substance. But when Darcy regretfully walked Elizabeth back to the parsonage, so that there would still be enough time for them to both dress for the dinner at Rosings, the delightedly happy couple determined that the next morning Darcy would ride to Longbourn with a note from Elizabeth to ask for Mr. Bennet’s consent.
There was a happy glow in Elizabeth’s heart.
Before the carriage sent over to take them to Rosings arrived, Elizabeth told Charlotte about her engagement. She was delighted, pleased, and overjoyed at her friend's good fortune, but they both agreed that for the present it would be best to hide the information from Mr. Collins. From the warmth with which Georgiana and Colonel Fitzwilliam greeted Elizabeth upon her arrival at Rosings, she supposed they too had been supplied with particular information.
This did not long remain a supposition. “Darcy said,'' Colonel Fitzwilliam told Elizabeth when they stood together on the side of the room, watching Lady Catherine hold court in the center, “that he wasn’t going to inform the old bat until your old father had been told—”
“You’ve met Papa.” Elizabeth laughed. “I’d not call him old at all!”
“Older than me. Any man more than three years my senior is old. Any man less than three years my junior is one of those useless loutish youthful things England produces in these dark decaying days —Idon’t blame Darcy for the delay in telling Lady Catherine. WereIto disappoint Auntie Cathy’s hopes in such a way, I’d send the news by post from Spain, and she could brave Napoleon’s troops if she wanted to reproach me in person.” He thoughtfully rubbed at his chin. “Might scare them out of the peninsula — I’ll talk with the general next time I see him about whether we can make use of irate old women as a tool of war.”
Elizabeth laughed, but she then looked over at Lady Catherine’s small daughter sitting quietly beside the fire. The last rays of the setting sun fell on Miss de Bourgh — soon to be her cousin by marriage. “I truly hope that Miss de Bourgh will not nurse… have any deeply disappointed hopes.”
“Her?” Colonel Fitzwilliam shrugged. “I’ve spoken with her more than once upon her determination never to marry. Childbirth frightens her. It ought to with her weak constitution. And she has no particular liking for men, and no particular need for marriage. She always hoped that Darcy would not disabuse Lady Catherine of her hopes before it was necessary so that she might avoid being importuned about a different match.”
“Oh! I am glad to hear that.”
“Anne’s an odd one. A sweet mouse. Nothing bad in her heart. A bit pompous maybe.”
“And you.” Elizabeth grinned at Colonel Fitzwilliam, recalling some of what Darcy said. “Areyoustill pining for me? Darcy informed me that you held an absolute desperatetendrefor me. Terribly in love. Over the winter, and you wasted away in the hope of a single smile from my alabaster face, longed for a single sound of my slippered foot, etcetera, etcetera.”
“He did not.”
Elizabeth laughed.
“I confess,” Colonel Fitzwilliam said flamboyantly, “You have conquered me wholly. Once you have married another, I shall not be able to live, except through good food, fine company, and a reasonable, but not at all excessive amount of drink.” Colonel Fitzwilliam clapped his hands together softly. “Zeus, but Darcy is the luckiest fellow in the world. To have such success despite his incapacity to understand women, society, or even his own mind.”
“Now, now.” Elizabeth warningly waved her finger. “Be kind to him.Ilike him very much. His flaws are endearing.”
He laughed. “Deuced lucky man.”
Darcy joined them.
Even though he was not the sort of man in whom happiness showed itself as ebullience, she could detect in his every look and gaze at her that sort of complete satisfaction and inner glow that she shared with him.
Lord! But she wanted to kiss him again, and in front of everyone.
To kiss was a delightful sensation.
But it was more than pleasure to kiss him. It was… a man who she loved and who loved her. Kissing him, being near him, being entwined together, arms around arms, lips on lips, it was as though that was in some important way a central part of the entire purpose of life.
Was there not a passage in the Holy Book that proclaimedGod is love?
Elizabeth now understood that, and that it was true — love was not simply a carnal connection, but a spiritual one.
As the three of them spoke together, there was a commotion, and after a barely heard argument in the hall, the door to the drawing room was hurled open.
Elizabeth’s mouth fell open.
Charlieentered, pushing his way past Lady Catherine’s stiff butler. His hair was disordered, his riding boots were muddy, and he’d clearly not washed off at all after arriving.
Jane. What had happened to Jane?
