Fine eyes, beguiling smile, and cherub face,
A mind as bright, such wit and mirth stoke my desire.
Six weeks I woo’ed, yet deceived – such a fool,
Afraid to bear my heart and truth, my pride
Has rendered me unworthy of this jewel.
What sorrow haunts me, bereft of my bride.
Forsaken lady fair, I beg of you,
Fidelity I promise, as I live,
My oath to worship, always speak true,
And to deserve your love, if you forgive.
I humbly seek to make amends somehow,
And celebrate exchanging lovers’ vows.”
Mr. Bingley ceased playing the instrument and reached into a little basket at his side. He threw a handful of scraps of colored ribbon into the air, and then another. “You must imagine this to be fireworks,” he said, repeating the gesture several more times.
Mr. Worthing leapt off the piano and landed gracefully on the gravel path before her, swept into a low bow, and then reached for her hands. “Elizabeth, I know I must explain my actions more fully, but I hope this has persuaded you that my regard was no falsehood.”
From the periphery of her vision, Elizabeth saw Kitty bounce up on her toes and bring her hands to her mouth as she called, “Say yes!”
Elizabeth laughed softly, raking her eyes over the ludicrous but very dear sight of the man she had fallen in love with. He had made quite an ass of himself in an effort to regain her affection, and she was every bit as impressed by it as he seemed to hope. Even so, she could not countenance being so easily won.
“You must atone a little further, sir.” She went behind the makeshift Cascade and collected a bucket of water, and then gleefully dumped it over Mr. Worthing’s head. He closed his eyesbut made no effort to escape this punishment; Kitty and Mr. Bingley applauded. “But, yes, Mr. Dar Mr. Worthing, I will allow you to explain your wickedness.”
He clasped her hand in his with a look of gratitude and relief. He was rather dashing with his tunic so drenched, and Elizabeth blushed when he noticed how she looked at him. “Will you walk with me? Do you like the lanterns?”
“Yes, and yes.” Elizabeth happily took his arm, and he gave their companions a look over his shoulder that sent them scattering, before leading Elizabeth through the cheerfully lit garden. When they had strayed far enough from the house for her to feel the tranquility of being alone with him, she looked expectantly at Mr. Worthing. His damp tunic still clung to him, and she averted her gaze, determined to hear him without being swayed by his absurd yet attractive appearance.
Mr. Worthing cleared his throat. “I am excruciatingly sorry for deceiving you, Elizabeth. It is inexcusable, but I do have an explanation for my actions, if you will permit me to give you an account of how I came to use the name Darcy.”
“I have realized that you must have done so long before we met; it could not be any ruse to gain my affections dishonorably.”
“And yet I fear I rather have.” He sighed and raked a hand through his hair, then tugged off his ruff and tossed it aside. “When I left university, I was loath to part with my friends. They would all go on to join London society with their families – they all had living parents, and beyond their endeavors on the marriage mart, they would largely be idle, as well as merry. I was meant to return to the responsibilities of my estate, alone but for a ten year old girl, of no relation to me, who had lately been left to my care. I had not the luxury of my wealthier peers, in takinga grand tour, but my friends and I decided to tour the north of England, the peaks and the Lake District.”
Mr. Worthing took a deep breath, looking a little nervous as he made his uncommonly long speech. “It was then that I first used the alias of Will Darcy. A stupid bet with Finneas Culpepper, who bested us all at fencing – our forfeit was that the rest of us must give absurd false names throughout our travels together. When I met your cousin Richard, we had all just toured Pemberley, and the name Darcy was the first thing that came to mind. I was greatly affected by the story of the family, and I had not my friends’ sense of humor in selecting something as outlandish as the false names they gave you that day in the park.”
“Perceval Ramsbottom, indeed,” Elizabeth laughed. “But you told Richard you name was Darcy? He must have been quite curious.”
“He was, a little, but my friends talked us out of any suspicion – I could hardly have known Richard had just taken over the management of Pemberley, on behalf of the remaining Darcys.”
Elizabeth let out a ponderous hum. “How curious that you should be as struck by my aunt’s sad history as I have always been. It seems we have the same reason for being drawn to the name Darcy. You know how I adore Lady Anne, after all she has suffered.”
“I am sorry if it has given her any distress, the name I have chosen. She must not like to hear it. I never meant any claim on being herFitzwilliam Darcy. Just carefree Will Darcy, a cheerful fellow unburdened by the many duties of William Worthing. Once my friendship with Richard continued beyond my journey north, I was obliged to continue on, as he knew me. He even introduced me to others as Darcy. Perhaps I might havetold him the truth – I hardly know why I let it go on so long, save for perhaps a wish to be someone else, and lead a different life. Wildewood holds many unpleasant recollections of my youth, for my guardian’s wife was not a kind woman, certainly not a mother.”
Elizabeth squeezed his arm, offering him a look of compassion. She had perhaps been more fortunate in her own guardian, for though Lady Catherine could be severe, Elizabeth’s childhood was not without many years of happy memories.
He let out a great, heavy sigh and shook his head, his hand resting atop hers. She allowed it, still listening attentively.
“I believe that the man you came to know in London is as much William Worthing as Will Darcy, for I never spoke any falsehoods beyond my name, Elizabeth. In my time with you, I was perhaps more myself than I have ever felt, something beyond the man I am at home, or in town. Despite the great wrong of my deception, it felt utterly and perfectly right. I believe I do not presume too much in supposing that your feelings are as strong as my own – strong enough to overcome the deficiency of my name not truly being Darcy. If that is what first drew you to me, I shall not repine, but I hope that since coming to know me, such as I am, that your own impressions of me have not altered – that you can love me, still.”
