As they rode out to Longbourn, Bingley in an excellent mood of course, Darcy felt his nerves rise so much that even his horse reacted to the tension in his body and shook its head and refused to stand still. It didn't get any better when they arrived and Miss Elizabeth was still as silent as she generally had been the last weeks. But Darcy congratulated Miss Bennet heartily on her engagement to his friend and was received well by the one person in this household who did seem to like him. Bingley then proposed they all walk out.
That would be best, for being active and out of sight of Mrs Bennet would be a great plus. As Bingley and Miss Bennet let the others outstrip them, and Miss Catherine turned into a lane to visit a friend, he was now on his own with Miss Elizabeth, whose nervous mood he could feel even from where he was walking beside her. This was it, this was the moment that would make him the happiest of men or break him.
But before he could think of anything to say his beautiful companion racked his nerves even further, by thanking him for the kindness he did her youngest sister. Would things ever work out for him, how could she have found that out? He told her he sincerely regretted her having been told about
that, he never meant to cause her any unease, and she explained that her featherheaded sister gave him away. She practically begged him to accept her thanks, in name of her whole family, who fortunately still hadn't the slightest idea that he was the one who had rescued the girl from infamy. But since he didn't do it for them, but for her, she might as well know that, now the moment of truth had arrived. So he told her he thought only of her.
Despite her not giving any reaction or reply to that, no encouragement or sign of caring whatsoever, he had to know, and now it was his turn to beg, and he begged her to tell him where he stood, did she still hate him? He still loved her and wanted her to accept his hand in marriage, would she please put him out of his misery of not knowing?
It was done, and her continued silence and averted face didn't bode very well. They had stopped moving, and he could feel his heart beating in his throat, making breathing difficult.
And then she spoke, haltingly, strong feeling colouring her voice.
'My feelings for you did change, a lot. For I didn't know you then, but I think I know you now, and I think I love you. I know I love you. I am very grateful and happy to hear you still want me in your life.'
As he heard her declaration of her love, his heart soared and a feeling of intense joy took hold of him. She still didn't look at him directly but she took his hand and held it against her, and she was standing really close to him all of a sudden.
His love for her washed over him, and for once he felt the urge to speak.
'My dearest Elizabeth, you have no idea how happy the assurance of your love makes me. I have had no thoughts but of you for months, you were always with me, in my dreams, but also in my every waking moment, wherever I went. I've been so afraid you would never be able to love me, I've never met anyone like you, nor will I ever again. May I hold you for a moment? I've wanted to for such a long time.'
She didn't speak, but laid her head on his chest and wrapped her arms around him, and as he closed his own arms around her slim shape he let his face touch her hair. For very few moments they stood together in their first embrace. It was even better than he had imagined all this time, and his desire for her awoke, slowly for having been repressed for so long, finally setting fire to his body until he had to break the embrace or lose his control and kiss her passionately. That could wait, he had waited so long to find
love, and now she was finally his and he would wait a little longer. But he kissed her glossy hair before they parted and moved on, and now she did look him in the eye, and stroked his cheek softly. Her loving gaze and her gentle touch nearly overcame Darcy, so real, and yet so much like his secret fantasies, his dreams had finally come true, and his years of loneliness and yearning were over.
Both a bit shy at their own audacity, they walked on quickly, not touching, but closer to each other than they had ever been for any length of time. They had never exchanged more than a few sentences, and nearly always in the company of others, but now they discovered they could really talk, they could relate to each other as Darcy had hoped they would.
'You are the only woman I have ever met whom I could imagine spending my life with, Elizabeth. And I was so very afraid I would never succeed in winning your affection. I was still so very much in love, and so afraid to find nothing but rejection again. It would have broken my heart forever.'
She looked at him as if she felt the loneliness his words reminded him of, and the force of his love for her, when she touched his hand briefly, taking away the pain of his memories and reminding him of the years to come.
He mentioned his aunt's visit a few days ago, how she tried to get him to promise her to never marry Elizabeth, but managed to accomplish the exact opposite by giving him some hope of her, knowing she would have just told Lady Catherine if she had still hated him.
And finally they could speak about what had happened in Hunsford Parsonage, Elizabeth told him she was nearly as ashamed of her part in that scene as he had been of his. Though he was glad to know, he still protested it, and he described how he had taken her reproofs to heart and tried to change, to become a better man, finding value in people all around him and a new bond to his sister in the process. They spent at least an hour talking intimately, walking on all this time, until they were so far from her home that even Elizabeth didn't recognise their whereabouts anymore. Still, they found their way back eventually, and discussed even the most sensitive subjects, and all this time Darcy felt an ever growing sense of rightness come over him, he had not been mistaken, Elizabeth Bennet was the woman of his life, they could talk for ever and ever and still find each other interesting. He was even starting to appreciate this habit of hers, of rambling through the country.
And as he was musing quietly for a few minutes she looked at him with humour.
'I am already getting used to those moments of silence. I wondered why you wanted to walk with me in Rosings Park when you hardly said any word at all, but now I see you're very comfortable just being together.'
And still he didn't speak, he knew his expression would show her the love he felt hearing her say that. He took her hand in his own, and very briefly they walked on hand in hand, until they got too close to the village and let go of each other reluctantly.
When they entered the house they were like strangers again, and Darcy wondered a little why no-one questioned their very long absence without chaperone, though they did exclaim at Elizabeth's admission of having walked herself lost. But apparently country habits differed from city ones, or maybe it was just Mrs Bennet's way of raising her daughters. Darcy didn't manage to wonder for long, though, frankly he was a bit overcome by his feelings, after months of anxious suspense Miss Elizabeth finally told him that his love for her was no longer hopeless, his intense feelings for her returned. And with her on the other side of the room, talking to Bingley and her sister, it all felt a bit unreal. It became virtually impossible for him to talk, he needed to take a few moments to compose himself, to order his thoughts and his feelings. Fortunately he was often silent, and no-one asked him for an explanation. Slowly the truth sank in, Miss Elizabeth, no, just Elizabeth now, they were engaged, Elizabeth loved him, she wanted to spend the rest of her life with him.
Bewilderment now made way slowly for total content, his dearest wish had come true, they would always be together, in a few weeks happiness would be just an arm's length away from him. He had a hard time keeping from smiling ear to ear, and to settle his mind he quietly rethought everything they had just talked about, all the things that ever happened between the two of them, and after half an hour he was ready to face the world once more, enabling him to just sit and enjoy dinner with this weird family in total complaisance, talking to whoever wanted him to talk, making himself agreeable.
Tomorrow he would have to face Mr Bennet, who would not refuse a man o
f Darcy's consequence his consent to wed his daughter, but who might flay him with words in the process of giving it to him. But tonight he would
relish his good fortune, that the woman without whom life would not have had any meaning for him had managed to overcome her abhorrence of him, and found it in her to love him.
Elizabeth was silent, too, but Darcy now knew she did love him, she just got tongue-tied when she experienced strong feelings. Once they were comfortably settled she'd become her old self again, and continue to tease him with pert remarks and witty observations. He couldn't wait! After dinner he found a few moments to talk with her a little, and when they took leave he first did his very best to show utmost courtesy to her silly mother, then touched Elizabeth's hand for the tiniest moment, to remind her of their understanding. Rewarded with a shy smile he left in the best of spirits, eager to share his happiness with his best friend, and soon to be brother.
And as they straightened their coats and walked towards their horses, saddled by Mr Bennet's stable boy and very well-cared for as always, Bingley took a good hard look at Darcy and exclaimed, 'I say, my friend, I have not seen a smile like that on your handsome noble face for..well, actually I've never seen you smile like that. Ever. Surely you must have popped the question, and met with approval of the young lady?'
For a moment Darcy was lost for words, Bingley sounded as if he hadn't expected Darcy to have a chance at all, did he know something Darcy didn't? But he had no time to formulate his question for he was taken in a bear hug by his smaller friend.
'My congratulations, Darcy, imagine you having the nerve to ask again, and to be accepted. Jane will be so happy to hear that.'
Accepting his friend's token of affection graciously, still smiling broadly most likely, Darcy thanked the stable boy and handed him a few pennies as a token of his appreciation, then took his horse from him and mounted in one fluid move. Bingley followed suit, and as they rode off Darcy asked,
'You didn't think she'd me accept then?'
'Frankly, I didn't expect you to try again so soon or I would have warned you. Jane knew about your proposal in Hunsford, her sister had confided in her, and though Jane admitted to having quite a fancy for you herself for loving her sister, she likewise told me you probably didn't stand a chance with Miss Elizabeth since she truly disliked you. I'm relieved she was wrong, and very glad to see you happy at last.'
That was peculiar, but since Elizabeth did accept him and he was seeing her
again tomorrow, Darcy didn't ponder the mystery for long, he was way too happy to think of anything but his beloved, her beauty, and her fabulous mind. Remembering his promise to Georgie he wrote her a few lines to share his success and his happiness with her, and left the letter with the butler to have it mailed in the morning. Then he retired to his bedroom, packed away the novel since he didn't need it anymore and lay on his bed wide awake, reliving the whole blessed afternoon in his mind again and again and trying to envision what life would be like with the woman of his dreams finally at his side. His happiness knew no bounds, he was almost giddy with it, never in his life had he felt like this.
When he finally did find sleep his subconscious sent him a very titillating dream, with intimacies being exchanged between himself and Elizabeth of a rather different nature than holding hands and stroking his cheek, but rather kissing feverishly and stroking each other in very intimate places. In his dream he was not embarrassed or ashamed at all at touching her, and she received his attentions with pleasure, reciprocating his caresses with equal passion, it all felt very natural and right. He woke up sweating with the heat of his ardour, instantly ashamed of his own forward behaviour, the sense of rightness replaced by a deep mortification at his lack of control. How long could it be before they were actually married? A month, maybe two, no need to hurry being intimate. Mind back in control, still his body refused to obey, it took at least an hour to cool down enough for him to be able to sleep again, but no part of his mind doubted the rightness of resisting the temptation, so eventually his urges did give up.
Chapter 9
The next morning he remembered his dream as if everything had really happened, and it made him a little afraid to meet Elizabeth, what if he couldn't control himself any longer and kissed her as he had done in that dream? His reception at Longbourn was as cool as the day before, but Bingley greeted Elizabeth with a most hearty handshake and a broad smile, and Miss Bennet welcomed Darcy with a very sweet, knowing expression and as warm a handshake. Elizabeth had been as open to her sister as he had been to Bingley, and Miss Bennet's approval was obvious. She had always been incredibly kind towards him, and Darcy felt some shame at having ever thought her mercenary or without much feeling. She had strong feelings, she just didn't flaunt them.
Bingley was in an excellent mood and suggested familiarly that Lizzy might want to lose her way again today, and Mrs Bennet jumped on the idea, even without the addition of Miss Catherine, not at all put out that her unmarried daughter of tender years would ramble for hours with an adult male, unchaperoned. For a moment he suspected her of trying to make a match, but Mrs Bennet clearly had no such idea, she disliked Darcy too much to even consider him as potential suitor. Elizabeth was not herself, not yet, she was still rather silent and grave. But that would all change once they were safely married, they would be together always, never again worrying over what other people would say or think.
And when they indeed walked out by themselves towards the view her mother had suggested she did loosen up, exercise made her happy, and Darcy could see that she was suppressing an urge to run. No matter, once they were at Pemberley she could run as much as she liked, no-one would mind the slightest, or even notice.
'I suppose I'll have to face your father tonight to ask his consent to marry you,' Darcy said. 'I'm not too proud to admit that the idea has me weak-kneed with anxiety, your father frightens me to no end.'
That set her laughing, the most beautiful sight in the world.
'Whatever for? My father is the sweetest man, though he will not be pleased at first. He has no idea who you really are, but he will not be angry or refuse consent.'
'I know, Elizabeth, but still I fear him. His sarcasm has me totally helpless, I cannot arm myself against it. He could easily maim me for life with the sharpness of his tongue.'
Now Elizabeth looked at him with a twinkle in her eyes, and observed,
'That's good, you should respect your father-in-law. You'll grow to like each other soon, I hope, my love.'
Then her expression changed to uncertainty, still smiling but shyly now.
'You have it easy, you just leave off the Miss, Bingley apparently already calls me Lizzy, but I've never heard anyone call you anything else than Mr Darcy or just Darcy. And since I'm going to share my life with you I really don't want to call you by your last name anymore. I know your first name is Fitzwilliam, same as your cousin the colonel, for you signed your letter with it, but I never heard anyone call you that. What do you want me to call you?'
There it was again, as his mind softened at her moment of indecision, she looked so vulnerable all of a sudden, his body used that as an excuse to want to reach out for her, take her hand and press it to his lips, or take her in his arms and feel her head rest on his shoulder. He took a moment to show it who was in control, then replied, thoughtfully, for it had never come up before.
'I guess Georgie is the only one to ever call me by my first name, everyone else always calls me Darcy, with or without honorific. My sister never shortens my name, though I shorten hers all the time. Do you suppose you can start with calling me Fitzwilliam, as Georgie does, and then we see what happens in time? You may need to say it twice though, at first, it will take some getting used to. You always said 'Mr Darcy' in a way that got my attention instantly, I'll miss that sometimes.'
Now her uncertainty was gone and she looked at him cheekily.
'Don't worry, Fitzwilliam, I know exactly what you mean and if I ever need your attention
quickly I will not hesitate to use it.'
Oh, to hear her speak his first name, so low and breathy, so different from how Georgiana said it. Not much chance of his not realising she was addressing him. And again he needed to suppress an urge to hold her, it was
not fair, something in him was using any excuse to make him want to caress her, how was he going to keep that down for another month? Or even a week?
They walked on in constant conversation, there was so much to talk about, their youths, plans for the future, their coming courtship. All too soon they reached the sign announcing the view that was their destiny, having left the cultivated part of the neighbourhood behind some time ago. The bare fields, recently harvested, some already ploughed but others lying fallow through winter, and the occasional meadow with or without livestock, sheep, cattle, a few horses, they had all made way for rough woods, oak and beech mostly, in beautiful fall colours, but also some mixed woodland patches with a lot of undergrowth, some still hanging on to their beautifully coloured leaves.
The little sign directed them to a rambling path, straight through the woods, and of course it went uphill rather steeply.
Elizabeth clearly was a very strong walker, she kept a firm pace and she didn't even seem out of breath or heated with the effort of the climb. As for himself, he was feeling the heat, it was fall already but mild for the season and he was wearing a very tightly fitted coat of dense wool. He couldn't help falling back, he was so hot he nearly fainted, and apparently Elizabeth was very aware of him for she quickly noticed and exclaimed, 'Oh, I'm so sorry, Fitzwilliam, am I going too fast? You must be smothering in that woollen coat, it's gorgeous and you look exquisitely handsome in it, but the weather is so fine today. Here, let me help you out of it.'
And at his look of shock at her suggestion, 'Never mind, Fitzwilliam, no-one ever comes here. And if they do, they'll have taken off their coats as well, most likely.'
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