Elizabeth mentally compared that to the mere twenty-five houses in the village of Longbourn, and she was, once again, impressed.
“Honestly, Kympton cannot truly be called a village anymore. It has two shops of its own, making it so that the people there don’t have to travel the four miles into Lambton nearly as often,” said Mr. Darcy.
“Lambton? Why does that name sound familiar?” asked Elizabeth. A moment later, she said, “Oh, that is where my aunt grew up. I knew it was in Derbyshire, but I had no notion it was so close to Pemberley.”
“Your aunt?” asked Mr. Darcy.
“Yes. My Uncle Gardiner, who lives in London, married a lady from Derbyshire ten years ago,” said Elizabeth. “She has occasionally mentioned the county and the town of Lambton with a great deal of fondness.”
“And what was her maiden name?” asked Mr. Darcy.
“She was the daughter of a shopkeeper. Her name was Madeleine Brooks.”
“Brooks’ Books!” cried Darcy. “I can’t tell you the number of times I visited there in my younger years. These days, I usually order my books from London by mail, but that is only because old Mr. Brooks died twelve years ago. If he was still alive, I would still be ordering my books from him.”
“That was my aunt’s father,” said Elizabeth, pleased that he remembered her father’s bookshop with such fondness. “After he passed on, my aunt, her mother, and her younger brother moved to London where she met my uncle.”
They chatted for a bit about Derbyshire, Lambton, and Pemberley. Elizabeth felt herself begin to relax into the exercise and the conversation, but she couldn’t relax completely. Her mind still whirled with the need to tell him of her feelings. She knew if she didn’t do it today, she would regret it.
When there was a pause in the conversation, Elizabeth changed the subject by saying, “I must thank you for your assistance yesterday. It was all such a whirling nightmare, that I don’t know if I thanked you then.”
“There is no need,” said Mr. Darcy. “I honestly don’t feel as if I did anything worth your thanks.”
“Oh, but you did!” she said loudly. She stopped walking and turned to face him. “You comforted me when I was so out of my wits that I could not even tell you what was wrong. You declared your devotion in no uncertain terms when my reputation was in question. You cannot think that was nothing.”
He followed her lead by halting and turning to face her. As he did, Elizabeth vaguely noted that Jane and Mr. Masters were nowhere to be seen.
“Miss Elizabeth, you must know that your happiness is my happiness. I could have done nothing else under the circumstances. It required no effort on my part other than to leash the intense anger I felt toward your attacker.”
“Then I thank you for that,” said Elizabeth insistently. “If you had shown such anger in my presence, it might have frightened me away despite knowing that it was not aimed at me.”
As Elizabeth declared her thanks with as much fervor as she could muster, she looked Mr. Darcy directly in his eyes. Beneath her thanks, she tried to convey the much deeper emotions that she could not put into words: the gratitude she had for his constancy, the respect she felt for his character, the admiration she had for his protective nature, and the love that had grown for him in her heart.
He must have seen at least some of it there, for he reached out and took her hand. They were both wearing warm gloves, so she felt nothing more than the pressure of his hold, but even that made her feel just a bit warmer.
“Miss Elizabeth,” he said, “I fear my hopes are betraying my senses, but I cannot help but think that there may be thebeginning of hope for my suit. Please tell me so that I do not linger in such painful doubt for long. Is there hope?”
Elizabeth smiled. She could not blame him for being so hesitant. After all, he had been working under the assumption that she disliked him intensely, and until now she had not given him any indication of her gradually shifting opinion.
“There is a great deal of hope, Mr. Darcy,” she said. “Yesterday, when I was hiding in the woods, not knowing what to do, I heard your voice. Suddenly, I knew exactly where to go and what to do. I knew, deep in my soul, that you were a safe haven, that you would help me and comfort me. And you did just that. I knew then that I wanted that feeling for the rest of my life.”
He lifted his hand to her face as if he was wiping her tears from yesterday away. The soft leather of his glove was pleasant on her cheek, but she couldn’t help wishing it was his bare hand.
“Miss Elizabeth, there is a question I would like to ask you, but I am terribly afraid to put it forth. I have stated my wishes so baldly and so often, you would think that it would be easy enough, but it is nothing of the sort. If I ask too soon, and you decline because I was precipitous, I do not know how I would survive it.”
“You may ask without fear,” she said.
“Miss Elizabeth Bennet, you are the best and brightest lady I know, and I admire you for it. You are loyal and kind to those who you love, and I respect you for it. But more than that, you are Elizabeth Bennet. Your smile makes me smile, and your happiness brings me joy. Your misery moves me to action to change whatever it is that makes you unhappy, even when that is myself. You are my heart. Will you marry me?”
“Yes, I will, Mr. Darcy. I would be overjoyed to marry you.”
Slowly, giving Elizabeth every chance to voice an objection, he leaned towards her until their lips met in Elizabeth’s first kiss. It was short and very gentle, but something momentous shifted inside her soul at such an intimate token of his affection.
When the kiss was over, he pulled back just enough to look her in the eyes. She could feel such a joy radiating from her face that she worried he might be blinded by it. He was not. Instead, he smiled. Then he kissed her again.
This one was much longer. As it went on, he wrapped his arms around her and held her close, and she returned the favor.
Many more kisses followed, and Elizabeth forgot they were standing in an open field. She forgot she should be returning home soon. She forgot everything but Mr. Darcy. In his kisses and his caresses, she somehow sensed the decades that lay before them. The hundreds and thousands of times they would surely repeat this experience and the decades of joyful, daily life that would be connected by those moments.
