Fitzwilliam Darcy
Page 17
“We are already atrociously late, my lord,” she said, turning to him. He handed over his reins and moved closer.
“And yet, I ask that you spare me a moment, if you will,” he said. “This will not go unsaid a moment longer.”
“Of course,” said Elizabeth. Her head was full of Jane and Mr. Bingley and George Wickham’s arrest; she could not imagine what he might say to her that could not wait an hour.
“Elizabeth Bennet, I have loved you since almost the first moment I laid eyes on you,” he said.
“Oh,” said Elizabeth. Her knees gave up their post against orders. Fortunately, there was a bench near the door to catch her as she sat.
“I think perhaps I was always meant to love you. I hated your being ill but I confess, I was also secretly glad of it, for it gave me time with you.
Asking you to pose as my fiancée was perhaps the most foolish thing I have ever done – I ought to have confessed my feelings then and made you my wife in earnest. I am sorry, more sorry than I can ever express, for the burdens that our arrangement has brought on you.
You have been my friend and my confidante, my lodestone even while we’ve been separated. One word from you, and I’ll ensure we’re never separated from each other again.”
Elizabeth was faintly aware of a noise near the church doors, but could not bring herself to look away from the man before her as he gracefully knelt to one knee.
“Elizabeth Bennet, will you do me the honor of becoming my wife? As God and these good people are my witnesses, my life’s course began and will end with yours.”
Joy blossomed deep within her, expanding in her breast with such vigor that breathing became painful. Her smile ached in its sweetness, and tears came to her eyes.
“Yes,” she said. “Yes.”
His smile took the last of her breath. Darcy rose and clasped her hands, his eyes alight with happiness. Perhaps they just reflected her own.
“I suppose you think you needn’t ask me, now that we’ve heard you,” said Mr. Bennet.
Elizabeth whirled around. Darcy’s hand clasped hers, steadying her when she would have stumbled. She’d heard some noise a moment ago but had not been conscious of their audience.
“On the contrary, sir,” said Darcy. “I owe you an apology for bringing your daughter in contact with someone who might have harmed her. I only hope to prove myself worthy by committing myself to her happiness every day for the rest of my life.”
“Do you love her?” asked Elizabeth’s father.
“If you witnessed my proposal just now, you know the answer to that,” said Darcy. His gaze met Elizabeth’s. “Yes. More than my life.”
“Oh, Mr. Bennet!” cried Mrs. Bennet. “How can you be so tiresome? Give your consent, for she’s already accepted him!”
“Give me leave to ask one more question, my dear, before I concede to your desire.” Mr. Bennet turned to his daughter. “Do you love him?”
Elizabeth’s heart simply spilled over, and she smiled. “I do love him. I love him so greatly that I shall not regret making Jane late for her own wedding.”
“The wedding!” said Mrs. Bennet as though she’d forgotten about it altogether. She waved her hands at them frenetically. “That’s why we have come, for Jane and Mr. Bingley will not let Mr. Collins start without the pair of you!”
“Given my daughter’s answer,” said Mr. Bennet, in no particular hurry. “I give my consent.”
* * *
Darcy bowed deeply before extending his hand to shake Mr. Bennet’s. Mrs. Bennet all but shrieking at them as they made for the church door.
* * *
Jane Bennet’s wedding was just what a wedding ought to be, excepting perhaps the tardiness of the wedding party. Her groom turned up at long last, handsome as ever and well-pressed, thanks to a quick-minded valet. Her sister, too, was delayed, but for a reason that could only bring joy to anyone who asked and therefore compounded to the joy of the day. The ceremony and subsequent union brought a smile to any who heard talk of it, which is what a wedding is supposed to do.
Of course, there were some for whom the ceremony was simply an event to be endured. Miss Caroline Bingley attended her brother’s wedding as any true sister ought, but was carried off to attend some mysterious business in London immediately afterward. She spoke to no one but the groom and bride and left without taking leave of anyone else in attendance.
Mrs. Hurst made excuses for her sister as best she could. Secretly she was most put out that she should have to pass the rest of the day without her sister’s audience. No one appreciated her clever set-downs like Miss Bingley.
Mr. Collins was told of the Earl’s engagement straight away. He felt obliged to inform his young cousin that her hopes of becoming countess were still in vain and that she ought to stop spreading rumors connecting her name to so great a house as Matlock. Before he could locate his cousin and deliver this lecture, he was intercepted by Miss Charlotte Lucas, a woman who showed so keen an interest in his work that Mr. Collins promptly forgot his objective and devoted the whole of his attention to educating Miss Lucas.
Miss Mary Bennet was happy for her sister, but the rest of the noisome event, she could do without.
“Good Lord, for alliance,” quoted Mary without humor. “Thus goes everyone to the world but I.”
“Shakespeare, Mary?” said Elizabeth, who was enjoying cake and watching her own groom-to-be. Mary enjoyed both her sisters’ happiness, she truly did, but she was coming to the crux of an engaging argument in her reading and was anxious to return to it.
“Aye, it’s a silly piece,” said Mary to Elizabeth. “But I enjoy the moral of it.” Elizabeth laughed.
Epilogue
Miss Elizabeth Bennet,
My nephew has by now informed you of the circumstances surrounding the disappearance of my daughter. I shall not waste my words on you regarding your own engagement.
Your role in the disappearance of my daughter has yet to be brought to light. Rest assured, Miss Bennet, I will find it out. Left to her own devices Anne would never have conceived such a horrible scheme. Eloping to Scotland, and with some person of no rank, no birth, no breeding at all? Unimaginable, until you came into her life.
It smacks of your influence. Do not think your present state as my nephew’s fiancée renders you welcome at Rosings – until my daughter is returned to me you are not to be admitted through its doors.
Lady Catherine de Bourgh
* * *
My dear Lizzy,
I hope this letter finds you well. I enjoyed your last letter very much. Maria and I had quite a laugh at your sister’s expense reading your description of ---.
I write today to give you some news, which I am not sure you will like.
Mr. Collins has proposed, and I have accepted him.
I know you cannot like him. The position he was born to and the entailment of Longbourn makes him a villain, though through no fault of his own. I have long hated that for your sake; I hate it now for his as well.
I think perhaps you may have other objections, but let me say this. He has a comfortable situation in life and I shall no longer be a burden to my own dear family. Should the ordeal at Rosings Park resolve itself (and by what manner you played a part, I am uninformed, though Lady C—ensures me it was vast indeed; perhaps you might amuse me with that retelling in your next letter!) you and I would be able to visit very often.
I hope you will wish me well, Lizzy. I do not ask for joy; I am not romantic, you know. I never was. But now at least I shall be well situated and need not fear for my future.
Yours, etc.
Charlotte Lucas
* * *
My dear Wickham,
I do hope they are treating you as you ought to be treated in that dreadful place. Do write to me again soon, my love. I’ve enclosed the items such as you requested, though it was very hard to conceal from Kitty for she follows me every minute. I cannot speak a word but she’s asking me about you.
I’ll wait for you, my love.
Yours forever,
Lydia B
* * *
Mr. Wickham,
My heart is engaged elsewhere. Please do not write me again, for it’s rather hard to explain, and he’s rather jealous of my attention.
LB
* * *
Dear Miss Bennet – Lizzy,
I hope this letter finds you well. By now my mother will have informed God and country all about my elopement. I am sorry for any embarrassment it may cause you or my cousin Fitzwilliam, but I cannot be sorry for anything more. Murray has my heart and always will. I believe we shall be quite happy in Scotland.
At present, he’s found temporary employment in the vast stables owned by an old friend. We need so very little that at present we want for nothing. I’ll write again when we’ve settled.
My sincerest felicitations to you both on your engagement. I can only hope that you and my cousin have found the same extraordinary happiness I have. If you find yourselves travelling north in future, the sight of you both would be most welcome.
* * *
Anne Murray, nee de Bourgh
Afterword
Good reader, I fell in love with Mr. Darcy when I first met him on the page at fifteen years old and I still haven’t quite recovered.
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Thanks for reading. If you enjoyed Fitzwilliam Darcy, Earl of Matlock as much as I did writing it, would you consider leaving a review? Because I’d love to hear from you.
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~CL