by Jennifer Joy
"I have learned never to underestimate myself and the people I love."
"May I ask what will happen to Mrs. Jenkinson?" Elizabeth had been surprised to see the elderly woman sitting in her usual place by Miss de Bourgh's side. If anything, she was more attentive than before.
"Of course. She has been with us for far too long to cast her off so easily, and I do believe her when she promises that she speaks kindly of Richard to Mother. She has become an ally, and I think the guilt she feels for acting as she did will guarantee her continued good behavior." Miss de Bourgh smiled at Mrs. Jenkinson, who conversed quietly with Lady Catherine. Lady Catherine, in turn, looked in surprise toward Colonel Fitzwilliam to nod in approval at whatever Mrs. Jenkinson had revealed to her.
"You see that?" Miss de Bourgh whispered to Elizabeth. "She is doing a masterful job, is she not?"
Elizabeth had to admit that she was and thought more of Miss de Bourgh for arranging things how she had done.
She kept looking toward the door, hoping that Mr. Darcy would walk through it. After all, Mr. Collins would despair to know he had missed the chance to dine at Rosings. Yet, the evening passed and soon Lady Catherine ordered a coach to convey her guests to their home.
Miss de Bourgh squeezed her hand affectionately. Colonel Fitzwilliam smiled warmly at her, but he had smiled most of the evening, so it did not signify. Mrs. Jenkinson avoided eye contact, but that was no surprise, was it? Lady Catherine looked down her nose with pinched lips whenever their eyes met, but she did invite Elizabeth to make free use of the Collinses’ hospitality whenever she was so inclined. As if it were hers to offer. Elizabeth thanked her for her kindness while inwardly rolling her eyes.
They arrived home without chancing upon two horsemen. Not that she expected to see anyone riding at that time of the night, but it did not stop her from looking out of the coach glass all the way back to the parsonage.
As fortune would have it, Mr. Collins did return after she had changed into her nightclothes. Unsuitable for company, she cracked her door open to listen for the smooth baritone of Mr. Darcy’s voice, knowing that she would not hear it. His propriety would never allow him to call at such a late hour unless it was absolutely necessary. She wished she could be as necessary to him as he had become to her. Breath came painfully as her heart broke deeper with each passing hour away from his company.
Flipping her pillow to the dry side, she tried to sleep. She and Maria would leave early in the morning, and she would have the whole ride home to plan how she could hide the emptiness burdening her.
Chapter 33
It was just as well they planned to leave at first light in the morning. Elizabeth tossed and turned all night, her dreams of Mr. Darcy indelibly imprinted in her soul. If only she had understood his character better when he had proposed. If only he had not said the very words guaranteed to provoke her. Would she could turn back time, she would forgive him his unfortunate choice... or would she? No, in her heart she knew that had she been madly in love with the gentleman at the time, she never could have accepted such a poorly executed proposal. Every fiber of her being rebelled against the thought. But she would not have refused him in such a way so as to prevent him from asking again.
A sigh escaped her, one in so many she had lost count. She should not waste her time thinking of what might have been. The past was in the past, and now she had to worry about the present— a present she could only dream would include Mr. Darcy. If only…
Shaking her head to rid herself of the torturous thoughts that needled her, she finished dressing and went downstairs.
Her trunk was carried down to sit in the front parlor. The polished metal of the new clasp gleamed in the soft morning light.
Elizabeth and Maria, traveling as they were in the Lucases’ coach and expected in town by a certain hour, had to leave before breaking their fast. Charlotte had prepared a basket full of food for them to take inside the coach. Elizabeth was grateful Sir William had sent their family coach for them to travel in more comfortably. Maria would sleep most of the way, and she would be free to think about what might have been.
Holding little hope that Mr. Darcy would stop by at such an unseemly hour, Elizabeth just wanted to return home to her family. She welcomed the noise and turbulence she had grown up surrounded by. She would hug her sisters, tell them all about the grandness of Rosings, and let their laughter lift her spirits. Then, when she had had enough, she would retreat to the quiet study to warn her father of Mr. Wickham. Lydia and Kitty enjoyed the militia's attention overly much, and it would not do for them to associate with that particular officer. She might even confide in him the contents of her heart. He would answer in a manner which belied a complete misunderstanding and impractical view of her sentiments, but she might feel better in the telling. She would not tell Jane yet. She would sooner suffer in silence than diminish her dear sister’s well-earned joy in her reunion with Mr. Bingley.
It was time to leave. Looking around, for she could not help it, she noticed not what was there, but who was missing. Still, she hugged Charlotte with a genuine smile.
Pulling back, Charlotte clasped both of her arms, pinning them to her side. "Lizzy, I wish you all the happiness in the world. I will write often, and I do hope that you visit us again when my confinement is done." Pinching her lips together, she added, “It is a pity you have to leave now. Can you not stay long enough to break your fast with us?”
“You know we cannot delay. I could not impose after your family so kindly lent us their carriage. Besides, we do not want to cause them needless worry if we were to arrive later than planned,” she said, half-heartedly. Would that they could stay until Mr. Darcy could call. If he would call.
Charlotte embraced Elizabeth again, and her optimism almost made Elizabeth cry.
Mr. Collins stood next to Charlotte. Elizabeth turned to curtsy to him, but he extended both of his hands to hold hers in a gesture devoid of any selfish malice. He shook her hand between his own, and while Elizabeth thought it odd, she did not retract her hands. Somehow, it felt appropriate and she felt the gratitude in his expression.
Shuffling his feet and taking several breaths, he said, “May the angels above serve as my witnesses this blessed day of the gravity of my compunction. I must apologize to you, Cousin Elizabeth. My dear wife, who has proved herself to be much more righteous than I, helped me discern the consequences of my resentful attitude toward you. It has led me down the path of sin, and my shame is complete. I would not dare ask for your forgiveness after the wrongs I have done, but could you find it in your heart to accept my apology?”
There being nothing she could say to add to his grief, and her desire to do so lacking entirely, Elizabeth smiled. “You married the best of women, Mr. Collins. I accept your apology, and what is more, I forgive you.”
Shaking her hands vigorously, he said, "I cannot thank you enough, Cousin Elizabeth. Please know that you are always welcome in our humble home. Do not forget us and pray think of us kindly when you leave for your new home."
Elizabeth, uncertain which new home he could possibly refer to, was interrupted from asking when Charlotte said, "For a certainty, Lizzy. You have been away from home long enough, Longbourn will feel new again, and I daresay you shall forget us until you fall back into your normal habits."
Shrugging her shoulders, Elizabeth chalked Mr. Collins’ strange wording up to another case of misused verbiage.
Mr. Collins let go of her hands, and with one final farewell, she walked out to the waiting coach for hers and Maria’s journey home. Only, Maria was not there.
She looked at Charlotte. "Where is Maria? Our things are stowed away, and it is time to depart." Now that the hour to leave had arrived, an uncomfortable resignation settled over Elizabeth, and she wanted nothing more than to be on her way home. That was what she told herself anyway. She would feel better with her family, she repeated to her stubborn heart.
A shriek from the side of the house and a pink blur bolted
past their group. Betsy ran after the squealing troublemaker, taking the menservants surrounding the coach with her. Only the driver remained seated to secure the horses.
“Oh, no, not again! Mr. Collins, the pig has escaped!” exclaimed Charlotte, turning to the lane.
Mr. Collins pulled her back. “Do not trouble yourself, my rosebud. You must consider your delicate condition and let the others follow in pursuit. I will help them.”
Perhaps love would blossom at the parsonage after all, thought Elizabeth. She was pleased for Charlotte.
Before Mr. Collins could leave, Maria walked out of the house, slapping her hands against each other. She froze in place when she saw the group looking at her open-mouthed.
"What?" she asked in innocence. There was a twinkle in her eye.
Charlotte laughed and sent Mr. Collins off to oversee that the escapee was caught before it intruded into Lady Catherine's manicured park.
"You do beat all, Maria,” said Charlotte, draping her arm around her sister’s shoulders. With a shrug, she added, “There is nothing more to it but to stay here until the pig is returned. You cannot leave without the menservants. Let us hope the little beast gives them some trouble in the catching," she said, her eyebrows raised.
Elizabeth, who would much rather have run after the animal than sit in one place, acquiesced. Looking past the coach and down the road, she soon caught sight of who she had looked for countless times across the lane.
Sensing her friends withdraw, she stood alone in the rose garden, surrounded by buds and their promise of fuller blooms to come.
As he drew closer, shouts of frustration from further down the lane reached her ears. He heard them too, bringing a gorgeous smile to his handsome face. He carried flowers in his hands.
His eyes never left hers, though there were enough distractions about. Walking through the open gate, he offered the cut blooms for her to take.
She hugged the mixture of spring blossoms and rosebuds to her bosom, burying her nose to overwhelm her senses with their sweet perfume. He had brought her flowers. He must have risen early to pick them just for her. The happy tears in her eyes blurred her vision, making the scene seem more like a dream.
"Elizabeth," he said in his velvety voice. It was real. He was real. “My dearest Elizabeth,” he repeated. The sound of her name coming off his lips nearly made her swoon.
"Fitzwilliam," she said aloud, testing his name for the first time. Liking the feel of it rolling off her tongue, she whispered again to herself. “William.” Now that was better.
Stepping forward, he placed his hands on her cheeks and raised her face up to meet his smoldering gaze.
"Elizabeth, let me tell you how ardently I admire and love you. From the moment we first met, you took possession of my heart, and I knew that life was not worth living if I could not share it with you. You have bewitched me, body and soul, and I must know: Will you marry me?" He rubbed his thumb across her cheek. She would float up to the heavens if he did not hold her to the earth.
She felt his warm breath caressing her forehead. "I would like nothing more than to spend forever with you," she said, leaning forward as closely as she dared, the flowers forming a well-intentioned, but unwanted barrier between them.
William heaved a sigh of relief, making her laugh. He seemed to be such a self-assured, confident man, yet he had been nervous.
"Did you really think I would refuse you?" she teased.
"I had hoped to perform better this time around," he said through his grin. Like the rest of him, his teeth were perfect, and he gave her occasion to see all of them. She determined to make him smile thus every day.
"Let me reassure you that your second attempt is something I will relive over and over in my dreams. What is more, I vow to do my utmost to erase your atrocious first proposal forever from my memory and only remember this one."
That suited him just as well as it did her.
Out of the corner of her eye, she saw her friends through the window. Their arms were around each other, and Maria bobbed up and down in excitement. Charlotte's hand rested over her heart. Elizabeth winked to them as she turned her full attention back to the man before her.
"Let us go to the orchard," she suggested.
She did not need to ask twice.
"God bless that pig for delaying your departure," he said through his laughter. He tipped his hat at the ladies standing before the window and, arm in arm, they walked past the house to the bench settled amongst the fruit trees.
"I believe we have Maria to thank for that. Otherwise, we should have gone. And I so badly wanted to see you," she said softly, not bothering to dampen the longing in her voice.
"I would have chased you down on my horse. When I saw that there was a chance that you returned my affection, nothing could prevent me from asking again." He rested his hand gently on top of hers, sitting so close she could feel his leg against her own.
Turning over her hand and lacing her fingers through his, she asked, “Why did you leave? I was free, but the agony was unbearable.”
“I cannot tell you now, but please know that everything I did, I did it for you,” he said, raising her hand up to brush his lips over the top of her fingers.
Her thoughts garbled at the intimate gesture, but her tenacity prevailed. Though her heart threatened to flutter away like a butterfly, she asked, “Cannot or will not?”
He leaned forward so that their foreheads touched. He smelled so much better than the flowers, now lying beside her on the bench, and she felt that her tingling skin was the only thing preventing her from melting into a puddle as he brought his fingers up to touch her hair.
She tilted her chin up and closed her eyes, feeling her eyelashes brush against him.
“Thank the Lord and his angelic army, the pig is returned!”
Elizabeth bolted upright, the magic of the moment gone.
William, too, looked like something precious to him had been taken away.
Mr. Collins stood victorious across the orchard while a footman tossed the pig inside its pen. Closing the door with vigor, the group marched in triumph back to the house.
Elizabeth looked yearningly at William. She had to leave, but she could not make herself stand.
It took every ounce of self-discipline, but Darcy stood, pulling Elizabeth up with him.
“I will return to Longbourn with you. Bingley is expecting me and your father is anxious to see you,” he said.
It was adorable how her face lit up. “You spoke with my father? Does he know about us?”
There was so much he wanted to tell her, but he would not ruin his surprise. Mr. Bennet would guard his silence until their wedding day.
“So determined was I to do things correctly, I went to Longbourn seeking his blessing in case you said, “Yes.”
Elizabeth laughed like the sound of jingling bells. “What did he say? How did you convince him?”
Darcy enclosed her fingers within his own, walking slowly toward the waiting carriage. “It was not easy. I had the distinct disadvantage of falling in love with his favorite daughter. But, in the end, he was reasonable.” More, he would not say.
Not even her incessant questioning pried the truth from him on their journey to Hertfordshire.
True to expectations, Elizabeth's family received her with vociferous exclamations, a multitude of embraces, and a good deal of bouncing. William continued to Netherfield Park where an equally joyous Mr. Bingley awaited.
Jane had the best of news to impart. Mr. Bingley had proposed. She, of course, had accepted. Elizabeth would never tell her about the role William really played in Mr. Bingley's return to Netherfield Park and his Jane. Elizabeth would cherish the knowledge safely in her mind.
Mary was pleased to hear about the Collinses and inquired about the subjects sermonized, as well as the uplifting books to be found at the parsonage. Truth be told, Elizabeth had used her time in church to let her mind wander on other godly thoughts. Surely, pondering the good t
raits of thy neighbor was a godly thought— and the more she thought of William, the handsomer he grew.
Kitty and Lydia were only interested in Hunsford until they found out that, indeed, there were no officers stationed there. Then they greatly pitied Elizabeth for the lack of entertainment the regiment always brought with them and of which they had been allowed to partake freely. Elizabeth spoke to Father that very day lest their lack of sense get them in a predicament from which the whole family would suffer.
Mother went into raptures at Elizabeth's description of Rosings— especially of Lady Catherine's drawing room. Her eyes darted about her own drawing room, and Elizabeth knew she was planning how to infuse some grandness into Longbourn. Father would not be allowed much peace that day.
Father stood close to Elizabeth, but he let the others do their talking until the dust settled.
She did not know what to expect, but it certainly was not what happened. When she finally had a moment alone with him, he kissed the top of her head, and said, “I could not let you leave me were it not for such a worthy gentleman. He will make you happy, my dearest Lizzy, and I pray you cherish him as much as he loves you.”
His watery eyes and utter lack of sarcasm were so out of character, she was moved to bury her face in his chest and squeeze her arms around his middle like she had done as a child. He patted her hair and, after some time, pulled away with a sniff. “It is as it should be, Lizzy. Besides, Jane will stay at Netherfield Park and I shall soon be kept away from my books with all the grandchildren they will supply me.”
He did not look like he minded too much.
Epilogue
He didn't want to tell her, but she eventually had her way. He simply could not deny her— a fact she was all too aware of and planned to exploit often, so long as the benefit was two-sided.
It was on the third try that he finally broke down. It was the evening before their wedding, and he had come to call. Mr. Bingley, too, was there to see Jane. Like William, he could not wait another day to see his bride.