“I have not been able to admit it to myself,” Elizabeth said. “I believe I was afraid of being mistaken, of facing the disappointment that your kindness was only borne of these horrid circumstances. I could not bear to be a fool, to mistake comfort for something more.”
“I have been too subtle,” he said, nodding sadly. “Too restrained. I was also afraid. I thought you may have forgotten me, or formed some other attachment. I cannot tell you how Ihavewishedto comfort you at every crisis since we have come here.”
Elizabeth smiled; she could well imagine. “I believe you must.”
There was always a sudden spark in his eye when he comprehended her teasing. He grinned back at her, his brows raised in challenge for a moment. And then he drew her into his embrace and kissed her. His first kiss had been tentative and gentle, but this was something entirely new. He was confident and passionate, and Elizabeth returned his ardor as tears of joy still streamed down her face.
In the billiard room she had been all saucy bravado, so astonished at herself that she had been beyond all thought as she kissed him. But now, she was lit from within from so many new thoughts and feelings. She had never known herself until this moment of epiphany, when at last she was at liberty to allow herself every delight these new sentiments aroused in her. Mr. Darcy was the finest man she had ever known, and he loved her so beautifully. And she was irrepressibly in love with him, her confidant, her protector, her friend.
When they finally broke apart, Mr. Darcy beamed at her as the pink clouds of sunset set his face aglow, and then he dropped to one knee. “Elizabeth Bennet, I do not ask it of you for any other reason, but that I have dreamt of it for months, and longed for it with all my heart. Marry me, dearest, loveliest Elizabeth.”
She took his hands in hers and tugged at him until he rose to his feet, and then she stood on her toes and gently kissed his cheek. “I love you so dearly, of course I will.”
They walked together until they had made a complete circuit of the castle, meandering in the falling dusk asthey compared their impressions of every moment of their acquaintance, at times amused or amazed at the disparity of their feelings when first they met.
“I wanted to throttle Willoughby, in the music room,” Mr. Darcy admitted with a rueful laugh. “After kissing you in the billiard room, I was ready to throw myself at your feet if the fireplace had not opened up. And then, to hear thattheywere engaged, of all people!”
“Oh! That is what you meant with the alphabet letters, when you spelledenvy. I suppose that is not the best means of communication for us.”
“Not the best way of selecting baby names,” he drawled, giving a wink that made her blush. “But I suppose I ought to be glad you never knew of my feelings before, that you did not pine for me as I did for you.”
“I am sorry to say it was quite the reverse! Only those named Bingley pined for your return.”
He gave a teasing, lopsided grin. “Well, now you must woo me a little in return, Elizabeth, and tell me when you finally began to return my regard.”
“I believe it was when you offered me that tragically crumpled handkerchief. I realized that you had kept it, after I first used it, and that you must have deliberately put it into your coat pocket, rather than a fresh one. And when you kissed it… well, I rather envied the pathetic, rumpled thing.”
He grinned, withdrawing it from his pocket once more. “Do not speak disparagingly of my favorite talisman; I have the highest regard for it.”
Elizabeth laughed. She reached into her pocket and pulled out a small piece of chalk. Her face utterly serious, she said, “Itook this from the billiard room today; I have the highest regard for lovers’ tokens.”
They walked hand in hand back through the castle, sharing their whimsical expressions of love, until they reached their suite. They heard shouts before they opened the door and discovered their parlor in a state of discord.
Chapter Fourteen
Elizabeth and Mr. Darcy exchanged a wary look as they stepped into their parlor, their hands entwined. Lady Allen tried to hold Sir Edward back, and Emma did likewise with Mr. Willoughby as the two men stood shouting at one another. On the sofa, Harriet huddled against Cathy, who was practically in Mr. Tilney’s arms as they watched the argument.
Mr. Darcy slammed the door shut behind him and Elizabeth, and everybody looked over, stunned. “What in God’s name is going on?” Mr. Darcy thundered.
Emma threw up her hands with exasperation. “We have told them everything we know, and Sir Edward is convinced that Mr. Willoughby has acted in collusion with Sir Walter.”
“What? Why? Uncle!” Elizabeth grimaced at Sir Edward. “It all made perfect sense to us when we spoke with Mr. Willoughby.”
“Which is very convenient for him, is it not?” Sir Edward shook his head emphatically.
“Discussing the crimes of one’s relations with near-strangers is not especially convenient,” Emma huffed.
Elizabeth nodded her agreement. “Would it belesssuspicious if Mr. Willoughby had covered up what he knew of his uncle?”
“If they have been working in collusion, it serves him very well to shift all the blame to Sir Walter, and look a hero exposing the man while inheriting his estate after,” Sir Edward said, gesturing furiously at the man.
“If my uncle is found guilty of these murders, his estate would be forfeited to the crown,” Mr. Willoughby cried.
“You might think to charm the visiting royals and be granted some benevolence. Exceptions may be made; they might reward you for turning him over, and give you his estate,” Sir Edward suggested.
Mr. Willoughby gave a snarl of frustration. “I have told you already, I do not want Kellynch! The place is in more debt than Combe Magna! I should only end up selling one to bail out the other, which seems like far more trouble than marrying an agreeable heiress.”
Emma eyed him warily. “You did promise I should have a say in what is done with my money.”
