AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“‘Oh wert thou in the cauld blast,
On yonder lea, on yonder lea;
My plaidie to the angry airt,
I’d shelter thee, I’d shelter thee.’”
But it was another voice who answered him, harsh, incredulous, and infuriated. The last voice on earth he wished to hear.
“Fitzwilliam Darcy! What do you think you are doing?”
Oh, great gads. It only wanted this.
“What is this poetry-spouting nonsense before the entire countryside?” the earl hissed. “You are making a fool of yourself! Or…is it a sign of something worse?” The threat in his accusation was unmistakable.
“He did not mean it!” Elizabeth cried, dropping his hand, desperation in her every syllable, her bright-green eyes awash with tears. “He-he…”
And with those words, he knew. He understood at last. She had seen his relations and was trying to protect him, even if doing so made her the laughingstock of the countryside. He caught one hand again and smiled up at her. She bit her lip, one of her tears spilling over her lashes. He caught it on the tip of his index finger.
Without even turning to look at his uncle, he made him an answer. “My lord. Please…do not defame me…before my chosen bride. You might at least wait…until she has agreed to wed me. For any useful assistance…provided during my illness, I thank you. But your advice…as I have already warned…no longer required.”
But Lord Matlock refused to capitulate. “We might have spoken privately, but you have forced my hand! I have barely arrived in time to prevent this disaster! Did you think I would not hear? I have many friends at court! The entire ton is awash with speculation regarding your incredible infatuation with a country miss. Ten thousand pounds, Fitzwilliam! Ten thousand, for a portrait of a nobody that nobody wanted!”
He saw Elizabeth’s eyes widen. Drat the loudmouthed fool!
“I know who her father is,” Matlock added coldly. “And her mother. It does not speak well for your case.”
It was, once, his worst fear—for his family to make a mockery of his reputation, to accuse him publicly, to attempt to take away all of what was most important. But no longer. True fear was discovering he had entirely muddled the most important part of his life—his love for Elizabeth. If she loved him, his family’s machinations became unimportant. He would confront this, now, once and for all.
Sighing, he kissed her hand, squeezed it. “Wait for me…shall you?” he murmured. “I will be…right back.”
For a moment, he thought her anxiety over him might carry the day, but quickly, she caught hold of herself, smiling through her tears. “For as long as you wish,” she said with only a slight quaver. “I am quite at my leisure.”
He gave her a wink, stood, and turned to face his uncle, stepping close to the older man. He was half a head taller and far more fit—he let his uncle see that, see that he was no longer helpless, no longer his victim, and completely in control. His uncle possessed hauteur, but no one could outshine arrogance like a Darcy; he saw when the uncertainty, a real hesitation crossed Matlock’s features.
“Do you really…think regent believes…whatever I paid him…for such unique…possession was too much? Or does he now…call me the…sharpest fellow in England…his own good friend?”
Matlock frowned. Plainly, he had not stopped to consider just how much favour Darcy had recently purchased from the future king.
Hands upon his hips, Darcy took in the gathered crowd; even the musicians had ceased paying any attention to their instruments. The eyes of the entire assembly were fixed upon this scene, many mouths open in shock, curiosity, astonishment, and avid interest at the display.
“How many here,” he called, in a voice loud enough to be heard at the back of the ballroom, “believe…receiving Miss Elizabeth Bennet’s…hand in marriage…be an honour to any gentleman…no matter how…grand?”
“Hear! Hear!” An uproar sounded, immediate and deafening; while he did not imagine Louisa or Caroline were joining in, he saw and heard all of Lizzy’s sisters, her mother, her aunts and uncles, Bingley, the Lucases, the Gouldings, the vicar, as well as many, many others clapping and cheering. This was her home, where people knew her best.
Lord Matlock backed up two or three quick steps; only now did it seem to have occurred to him that in selecting a site for confrontation, he had chosen poorly.
Darcy peered at Elizabeth over his shoulder. “You see…my darling. You heard…Matlock’s opinion of me. I really…cannot…do better.”
She snorted in laughter and stepped forward to face him again, giving his relations her back. “I adore you,” she mouthed.
He took both her hands in his, then, in his deep, carrying voice, shouted,
“‘Or were I in the wildest waste,
Sae black and bare, sae black and bare,
The desert were a Paradise,
