“I am not and have never been intended for any man, but I cannot claim that my heart is free.”
She prayed he understood her. He studied her, peering into her soul it seemed, for a long moment, and she allowed a smile to slowly take over her countenance.
“Can you possibly mean you—?”
“Is there anythingin particularyou would like to say, or ask of me, Mr Darcy?”
He grasped her hand. “More than I believe I am capable of conveying at present. Almost since the moment we met, I have come to feel for you such a…regard. That is not a strong enough word to encompass everything I feel. In truth, I love you, and I am convinced, without even an iota of doubt, that we were meant to go through this life and the one that follows together, and that I will never find happiness unless I have you by my side, as my wife.”
Unlike her though it was, she did not know what to say. Instead, her vision blurred by tears, she brought his hand to her mouth to kiss. He closed his eyes and leant towards her, their foreheads almost touching.
“Will you marry me? Please, I beg you, say you will. If it is too soon, I shall wait, but—” he whispered.
“I will. Oh, yes, yes, a thousand times, yes. I love you. I believe I have since the night we met, and I can imagine no greater happiness than to be with you always.”
With that, Elizabeth burst into tears. She was very glad it did not stop him from kissing her.
CHAPTERFORTY-SEVEN
Conscious of the open door, Darcy forced himself to practise restraint. If he had his way, he would continue to embrace and kiss Miss Elizabeth—hisElizabeth—for a week or two, or several months, before admitting another person into their company. Never in his wildest dreams had he anticipated such a happy conclusion to their conversation! He had prayed she would be willing to listen to his explanation and give him a chance to show her that he was worthy of her love. To find that she already returned his affection, that she was prepared to promise herself to him at once? It was almost enough to make him wonder whether he had gone mad and was living in some alternate reality—almostbecause, even if it were so, he much preferred this life and would cling to it with every bit of strength he possessed.
When they released each other, he kept a hand on her arm, craving the contact. She wiped her cheeks, which were wet with her tears, and he pulled out his handkerchief and helped her.
“I must look wretched.” She laughed.
“You look beautiful. I shall be very, very happy to spend the rest of my life gazing at you. I plan to make it a long life, just to extend the pleasure.” He thought it would be going too far to tell her he anticipated seeing her cry similar tears of joy at the births of their children.
She laughed again and grasped his hand. “Let us both vow to always remember this moment, and at those times when one of us vexes the other, we shall return to it to recover from our pique all the sooner. I am not sure which of us will have greater need of the memory, though if I had to wager on it, I would say you.”
He chuckled and shook his head. How he had missed her teasing. How wretched it would have been to go through life without it!
“Oh, I would rather keep you all to myself, but I am afraid I should go to my mother and Jane. Poor Jane will be beside herself trying to keep my mother away and control her wilder conjectures on what is happening.”
“By all means. Tell them you have promised to marry me, if you think it is best. I would be very glad to share the news with someone. When will your father return? I would like to talk to him as soon as possible, both about us and what I learnt about the Bingleys.” He was in great charity with the world and wanted to celebrate, but he could not forget that piece of necessary business.
“I anticipate Papa will arrive any minute, and yes, please do speak to him. I doubt I could keep my excitement hidden, and he would know something of significance had happened. Mary and Lydia are at Lucas Lodge for the afternoon, but they will be home for dinner before long. You will join us, will you not? Oh! Where are you staying? It cannot be Netherfield.”
He shook his head. “I left my man in Meryton to arrange rooms at the inn. Even had Bingley offered, I would not have accepted. I want nothing to do with him ever again.”
“I am sorry. I know you considered him a good friend.”
“Let us not ruin our mood remembering that family.” He kissed her hand. “Go tell your mother and sister, and return to me as quickly as possible, I beg of you.”
With a brilliant smile—how he adored her smile!—she was gone, and he heard her slippers hitting the stairs as she hurried up them.
* * *
Darcy had no complaints with the warm reception the ladies gave to his understanding with Elizabeth. To be sure, Mrs Bennet verged ontooexcited, and her voice was too high-pitched for the comfort of his ears, but he was determined to love her for Elizabeth’s sake and because he appreciated that she loved her daughters every bit as much as his mother had him and Georgiana. Having talked to Elizabeth, he found he could give a portion of his attention to Miss Bennet. It was plain to see that she suffered from depressed spirits, despite her genuine happiness for her sister. Having been in a similar position these last weeks, he recognised the signs of distress in her features, as much as she was trying to mask them. Darcy’s intention was to disclose everything he had learnt to Mr Bennet and, with his agreement, tell Miss Bennet. He doubted it would materially lessen her sorrow, at least until a greater period had passed. Silently, he cursed Bingley in the severest terms he knew.
Mr Bennet arrived within half an hour. He expressed surprise to find Darcy in his drawing room. Whether he was pleased or not was impossible for Darcy to discern. When he asked to speak to Mr Bennet alone, the older gentleman quirked a bushy eyebrow and agreed.
In the book-room, Darcy began by asking for his permission to marry his daughter.
“So you want to marry my Lizzy, do you?” Mr Bennet regarded him over steepled fingers. There was a long, heavy interval during which he kept a steady eye on Darcy and remained silent. “Were we having this conversation six or seven weeks ago, I would not have been so shocked. I suspected there was an attraction between the two of you, though you had a funny manner of showing it—hardly leaving her side one minute, then all but slighting her the next. You and your friends left so suddenly, and now you have come back and proposed. You must admit, it is odd.”
“I beg you would not refer to the Bingleys as my friends, sir. I can explain my behaviour and why their name sickens me.”
With this, Darcy told him about going to Kent, discovering Mr and Miss Bingley’s deception, and the interview he had had with them just the day before. “My inclination is that I should tell Miss Bennet. She has a right to know how false Bingley was and that his desertion was in no way her fault. But you are her father, and the decision rests with you. You would better know whether it would cause her further suffering or help her forget him sooner.”
