Rescued by Mr Darcy

by Anne-Marie Grace

  “Yes,” Bingley continued, not noticing Darcy’s yawn or his wandering thoughts. “We will arrive, Mrs. Bennet will undoubtedly invite us in, but we shall invite Jane and Elizabeth to walk with us instead. We will take a turn in the garden, and then… I will ask.”

  Darcy nodded distractedly. Bingley had repeated the plan at least a dozen times on the ride over. It was a good plan, and one that had very few things that could go wrong. Darcy was confident that his friend would soon find himself engaged.

  Longbourn came into view as they rode over a final hill, and Darcy urged his horse forward. Perhaps he had no plans to propose, but he was still eager to see Elizabeth again. There was no denying the increase in the speed of his heart as he imagined greeting her in the midday sun. He wondered whether she would smile at him the way she had smiled the night before. Or whether her expression would be grim and serious as the events of the night had truly penetrated her mind.

  Suddenly, Darcy came to an abrupt stop as he realised that Bingley was no longer riding beside him. He turned slowly and saw that his friend had stopped his horse already a few feet back.

  “Bingley?” Darcy asked questioningly. “Whatever is the matter?”

  “What if she says no?” Bingley asked, his voice hoarse. “I had not considered that. But she could say no.” He turned to Darcy, a look of panic upon his face. “What if she says no?”

  “She will not,” Darcy replied firmly. He was quite confident that the shy Bennet daughter was quite as much in love with his friend as he was with her. “There is a reason you had not considered a refusal,” Darcy continued logically. “You know that she will say yes, too. Neither one of us can even imagine a different outcome.”

  “You are right,” Bingley said quickly, heeling his horse back into motion. “Just a moment of nerves. I don’t know what came over me.”

  Darcy smiled, glad his friend was diverted back from panic with such haste. Bingley had strong moods, but they always changed with surprising speed.

  The men reined up their horses in front of the house, and both of them swung down from the saddle. A stable boy appeared and took the horses from their hands, and Darcy turned toward the house. He saw a curtain flutter in one of the windows and knew that their arrival was known. Sure enough, the front door flung open before they could knock and an old serving woman invited them into the sitting room.

  Darcy nodded to Bingley in encouragement, and both men entered the cool entrance hall and followed the woman inside the house. She opened the sitting room door and announced their presence.

  All of the Bennet women were present in the sitting room, and Mr. Collins as well. Darcy bowed and saw Bingley do the same from the corner of his eye. Straightening, Darcy saw Bingley open his mouth to speak. Before he could say a word, however, Mrs. Bennet burst forth.

  “Mr. Bingley!” She cried, hurrying forward. “Mr. Darcy! What a pleasant surprise. We had no idea we might be honoured with your company today, not with the ball last night! I would have expected you to spend the day abed. Surely you could not have got more than a few hours’ sleep.”

  Bingley nodded and opened his mouth to speak again, but Mrs. Bennet kept right on talking.

  “What a night! So many things to speak of—not that we will be speaking of some of them.” Mrs. Bennet’s face grew dark. “No, sir, you will not hear the name of Wickham pass my lips henceforth. Such a villain I had never thought to meet. Not that I am saying anything against your guest list, Mr. Bingley, of course, I am not! What else could you do but invite the militia officers? No, it is a mark of your generosity and hospitality.”

  Mrs. Bennet beamed at Bingley. Darcy found himself fighting a smile—the woman had barely drawn breath and Bingley was obviously flustered and did not know how to embark upon his plan.

  “Mama…” Elizabeth had come forward now, her cheeks red as if she realised what Bingley must be feeling. “You have not given them any room to breathe! Mr. Darcy.” She dipped into a curtsy. “Mr. Bingley. How lovely of you to visit us.”

  Mrs. Bennet looked at them both expectantly. Darcy waited for Bingley to say something, but when he looked at his friend, he could tell that Bingley had begun to panic. There was a wide smile across his face, but it seemed that he could only muster a nod in response to Elizabeth’s greeting.

  “It is our pleasure, Miss Elizabeth,” Darcy said, taking charge of the situation. He couldn’t propose for Bingley, but he would do his best to help his friend as he could. “Mrs. Bennet, it is kind of you to invite us into your home. However, the day is so brilliant, we wondered if we might take a turn in your park?”

  “Oh, yes!” Mrs. Bennet said, bobbing her head up and down, hardly waiting for Darcy to finish. “A splendid idea. Jane would be happy to accompany you, and Elizabeth as well, I suppose, for her ankle is not quite so sprained as we had thought last night.”

  “Yes, a walk would be quite lovely,” Mr. Collins chimed in. “It is so beneficial to one’s health. Your aunt, Mr. Darcy, Lady Catherine de Bourgh has often condescended to favour me with a turn or two about the garden in Rosings Park. It is, of course, much finer than the park here, but even such a humble garden as Longbourn’s would provide a healthy dram of fresh air. Wouldn’t you agree, my dear?” He turned to Mary with a questioning look. Darcy was surprised to hear Mr. Collins address the woman in such a manner, but it seemed they had an understanding.

  “I don’t suppose you had an opportunity to learn of my sister’s engagement to Mr. Collins,” Elizabeth explained, seeing Darcy’s surprised look.

  “Congratulations,” Darcy said at once, grateful that Elizabeth had provided so prompt an explanation. “I am sure my aunt will be most pleased with your choice of wife.”

  “It is my greatest hope she is,” Mr. Collins said, glowing with pleasure. “I have, just this morning, dispatched a letter detailing the qualities of my bride-to-be and I cannot wait to hear my lady’s thoughts.”

  Darcy nodded, knowing his aunt would give the clergyman his wish without hesitation.

  “A walk sounds lovely,” Jane said, standing up from her seat to join Elizabeth. Bingley grinned at her broadly, but still had not managed to free his tongue.

  “Splendid, splendid,” Mrs. Bennet said, rubbing her hands together. She clearly had guessed Bingley’s plan—or at least a part of it. “Lizzy, why don’t you show Mr. Bingley and Mr. Darcy to the garden while Jane fetches your bonnets?”

  “And we shall follow shortly,” Mr. Collins added.

  Mrs. Bennet seemed to have forgotten his desire to join the party. Her smile faltered for a moment, but she ignored him still. Elizabeth, however, turned slightly pink at her mother’s suggestion, but smiled and nodded.

  “Of course,” she said and motioned for the two men to start toward the door. “If you don’t mind?”

  * * *

  Ten minutes later, Darcy and Elizabeth were watching Bingley and Jane walk together a few paces ahead of them. Elizabeth had done a fine job of maintaining polite conversation while they waited for Jane, but it was exceedingly evident that Bingley was waiting for her sister. Elizabeth, for her part, seemed delighted by Bingley’s preoccupation. Now, she and Darcy walked side by side, just out of ear’s reach of the couple ahead. Mr. Collins and Mary were still yet to follow, and Darcy wondered whether Mrs. Bennet had worked some motherly magic.

  “If I were to guess what they were speaking of, would you tell me if I were correct?” Elizabeth asked quietly as she watched Jane and Bingley, a smile playing across her lips. Darcy looked from Bingley and Jane, to Elizabeth, and back again before answering.

  “I don’t know,” he replied slowly. “I do not know if it is my place to say anything.” Darcy was quite certain that Elizabeth knew what was coming for her sister, but he did not want to ruin anything for Bingley.

  “You needn’t say anything,” Elizabeth reasoned. “If I am incorrect, the say nothing. If I am right, then it would be perfectly understandable for us to discuss it in abstract terms.”r />
  Darcy hesitated for a second, but then nodded. “It seems a reasonable course of action,” he allowed.

  “Excellent,” Elizabeth said, her eyes dancing in delight. “Just answer me this: will I be hearing a set of banns in church this week?”

  Darcy smiled at her, wondering if he should tease. She would indeed be hearing a set of banns, regardless of Bingley and Jane—Elizabeth had seemed to forget that Mary and Mr. Collins had become engaged.

  “Of course,” he said. “Mr. Collins and Mary seem like they are well-matched.”

  “Oh, yes,” Elizabeth replied, disappointment in her voice. Darcy felt a pang of guilt—it was unkind for him to tease her so.

  “But it is always joyous to hear more than one set banns,” he said, attempting to keep a bit of mystery in the conversation.

  “I knew it! I knew he loves her as she loves him. I knew it!” Elizabeth said, quietly laughing. Darcy could hear the joy in her voice.

  “Indeed, he does,” Darcy confirmed, glad to hear that he was also correct in his assessment of Jane’s feelings.

  Jane and Bingley had turned a corner along the garden path, and Elizabeth held up a hand to stop Darcy from following. Instead, she motioned to a bench beneath a large tree.

  “Perhaps we should give them a bit of privacy,” she said. “From Mr. Bingley’s reaction in the house, it seems as though it might take him an attempt or two, and I would hate to add to his distress by watching.”

  “I’m afraid you are correct,” Darcy sighed. She sat down, but he decided to remain standing for the moment. “They will be engaged today, assuming Bingley can muster the courage. I am sure he will, but it may take three or four turns about the park.”

  “Well, I can certainly understand his nervousness,” Elizabeth laughed, looking up at Darcy. “I cannot imagine the pressure that a proposal would entail.”

  “Can you not?” Darcy asked, his mouth suddenly going dry. He had not anticipated the conversation drifting into talk of proposals. But now that it had, his affections and desire to wed Elizabeth had come roaring into his mind.

  “Surely you realise by now, Mr. Darcy, that I am a coward,” Elizabeth said seriously. “At least in matters of the heart.”

  “I am sorry,” Darcy said hoarsely. “I do not understand your meaning.” His mind and heart were racing—she had become serious very quickly and he could not guess where this conversation was leading.

  “Please,” she said softly. “Sit down.” She motioned beside her.

  Darcy could see that she had become quite pale, and he was suddenly afraid. But he followed her request and joined her on the bench. He looked at her, patiently waiting for her to continue speaking.

  Elizabeth glanced at him several times, took a few deep breaths, and then turned to him a final time without looking away. Her brown eyes filled with fire, and Darcy could not have said what would come next. His heart felt as though it would burst from his chest, while his stomach threatened to rebel, but still, he said nothing.

  “Last night,” Elizabeth began, but halted. She swallowed hard and began again. “Last night, you declared your affection for me and I… I just wondered if you still felt the same way… The excitement of a confrontation, I would understand if your words were uttered in haste…”

  She was beginning to ramble, and Darcy smiled softly, seeing the nervousness play across her face. He held up his hand to quiet her words.

  “You are mistaken,” he said gently, and he saw her face fall. He quickly continued. “I declared my love. I have never spoken truer words than when I say I love you.”

  Elizabeth studied him, and he waited, wondering what she was thinking. Instead of speaking, however, she reached up and gently traced the outline of the bruise that stood out just below his eye.

  “I am sorry that I caused you this,” she said quietly.

  Darcy reached up and stopped her hand, keeping it pressed to his cheek.

  “You didn’t,” he said seriously. “Wickham did. And I would take a thousand wounds or more if it meant protecting you from harm.”

  Elizabeth smiled at him, her eyes locked onto his, and his heart rate quickened once more.

  “As I have learned, you are not a man prone to exaggeration,” she said, amusement in her voice. “And so, I have no choice but to believe you.” She kept smiling, and Darcy did not free her hand. She still had not told him of her feelings and a sick fear was threatening to overwhelm him.

  “You are not one to make mockery of my emotion,” he said, not caring that a note of desperation could be heard. “Please, tell me at once if you return my regard.”

  “Darcy…” She said his name softly and he felt his heart constrict—the waiting was nearly unbearable. “You are generous, brave and kind. You are a man of honour and integrity. You are intelligent and curious. How could any woman not love you?”

  That was not an answer! Darcy opened his mouth to press her again, but she shook her head once.

  “I love you,” she said simply. “In a manner that has altered everything I think about the world. My affections are hard-won, but they are yours for eternity. I cannot imagine a future in which I do not hold you in deep regard and affections—I love you.”

  Darcy smiled, joy filling him and pushing aside any remnants of fear or worry. He lifted his hand from hers and pushed back a strand of hair that had fallen before her eyes. She closed her eyes against his light touch, and he felt his heart begin to race once more.

  “Marry me,” he said suddenly, without plan or preamble. “Marry me,” he repeated, his voice thick with emotion.

  “Of course,” Elizabeth answered lightly with a smile. “Was there any doubt?”

  “I suppose not,” Darcy said, his body filling with excited energy and joy. He jumped up and pulled her to her feet. “I suppose I must ask your father. Come, let us go now!” He began to move up the path toward the house, but Elizabeth called to stop him.

  “Darcy,” she said, laughing. “Wait! We cannot leave Jane and Mr. Bingley out here. I fear that Mr. Collins and Mary will soon join us here in the park. And with Mr. Collins around, they may never have the chance to become engaged!”

  “I suppose you are correct,” Darcy sighed, feeling slightly embarrassed by his outburst.

  “It will come soon enough, my love,” Elizabeth said gently and Darcy allowed the words “my love” to melt over him. He did not think he would ever tire of hearing it.

  “Soon enough,” Darcy agreed.

  * * *

  “I never thought it would happen this way,” Mrs. Bennet sobbed. The entire family had gathered in the sitting room and the fading afternoon sun illuminated Mrs. Bennet’s tear-struck face.

  Darcy saw her glance about at her three eldest daughters and the three men who would soon become their husbands. “I was always so worried, with five daughters, that it would be difficult to marry you off. But here we are, with three at once!” Her tears of joy overwhelmed her, and Mr. Bennet patted her shoulder.

  “There, there, my dear,” he said. “Try to remember that this is a happy occasion.”

  Mrs. Bennet nodded, but still buried her face in her husband’s shoulder. Mr. Bennet looked quite uncomfortable at this turn of events. He gave Darcy, Bingley and Mr. Collins a nervous smile.

  “Luckily, you three have chosen our daughters that have not inherited their mother’s temperament.”

  Bingley and Mr. Collins laughed aloud, and Darcy smiled. He glanced at Elizabeth and saw that she had turned red at her father’s words. He caught her eye and sensed that they both felt gratitude for that fact.

  Darcy and Elizabeth had only a few minutes to wait in the garden following his proposal. It seemed they had both underestimated Bingley’s resolve in the matter. He and Jane had hurried back to them, eager to share the news. Darcy and Elizabeth had been no less eager to share their own story. Jane and Bingley had both been shocked, but only for a moment. The four had shared hugs and good wishes before both men had broken away to sp
eak with Mr. Bennet.

  Mr. Bennet, for his part, had given both Bingley and Darcy his blessing without hesitation. He trusted his daughters and if they had accepted, Mr. Bennet felt he had no reason to deny them their happiness.

  And so, Darcy and Bingley found themselves standing beside the women they loved, watching as their mother wept tears of joy. Darcy could not remember when he had been more at peace.

  Chapter 31

  Elizabeth

  Elizabeth stood, one among many, watching Mary join Mr. Collins in holy matrimony. Her sister was not one to show much emotion, but Elizabeth was delighted to see a smile upon Mary’s face as she repeated her vows. Elizabeth might find Mr. Collins to be a bit ridiculous, but all that could be forgiven if he truly made Mary as happy as she appeared.

  For his part, Mr. Collins seemed quite as delighted as Mary. Elizabeth watched with amusement as Mr. Collins mouthed the words to the marriage ceremony along with Reverend Holloway, the old vicar of the Meryton parish. It seemed he could not stop being a clergyman, even for his own wedding.

  However, as much joy as she had for Mary, it paled in comparison to the happiness she felt when she glanced to the man standing beside her. Mr. Darcy cut a handsome figure, standing in the small church in a dark blue coat and buff-coloured trousers. His wore his brown curls pushed back, but one or two rogue ones still flopped over his forehead. Elizabeth itched to push them out of his brown eyes, but she kept her hands upon her prayer book—they were not yet married, after all. And even if they were, she scolded herself, it was not as if she could do such things in church.

  She refocused upon Mary and Mr. Collins once more and realised the ceremony was already coming to an end. The two were kneeling, receiving the Holy Communion. Any moment now, they would stand and the whole congregation would recognise their status as man and wife.

  “I can hardly believe that will be us tomorrow.” Elizabeth felt a tickle in her ear as Darcy leaned over and breathed the words softly in her ear. She looked up at him and smiled, but held a finger to her lips. Growing up, she had been punished enough for talking during service that she still held onto the irrational fear. Even now, she waited for Mrs. Bennet’s sharp tap on her shoulder and the look that promised a difficult reminder to pay attention during church.