by Kay Bea
I am rather impressed at her refusal to wear black during her supposed mourning. It takes tremendous courage to defy expectations in this manner. Miss Bennet, I think, was rather scandalised at her sister’s choice, but I find I cannot fault Elizabeth’s reasoning. She is in a place where she is not known and has no reason to fear censure either for herself or for her sisters. Given her temperament and the nature of her marriage, I think it would be against her character to pretend feelings she could never possess.
Even though she is not yet out of mourning, her own opinion on the matter has left me feeling rather free to begin a sort of courtship, and I have endeavoured to act accordingly whenever I am in her company. I can only hope she does not find me too forward. As she is not a lady impressed by standing or wealth, I find I must be more creative in my gifts to her. To that end, I have written Bingley to beg the presence of his family as soon as possible.
I am of the opinion that Elizabeth will be as pleased with the presence of all her sisters as most ladies would be in receiving the crown jewels. I had hoped to entice Mr Bennet into joining us; however, he has expressed a reluctance to travel such a distance. For my part, I believe he is not convinced Mrs Bennet will abide by his restrictions in his absence, and he has no interest in being further embarrassed by the actions of his wife. Additionally, Bingley informs me that Mr Bennet is suffering no small amount of guilt over Elizabeth’s situation, and he has not yet determined how he will face her. Convincing Mr Bennet of his absolution is no small task. I know my Elizabeth bears her father no ill will and, in fact, places the responsibility for her marriage and subsequent unhappiness entirely on her mother and husband. Elizabeth well understands her father had once forbidden the match with Collins and was in no state to object when her mother brought the thing about.
The subject of Mrs Bennet is the only one that no one dares broach. It causes Elizabeth a good deal of pain, and none here are willing to subject her to such a thing. When we speak of her family, we speak only of her father and sisters. I know she longs to see her father again, and I am determined to see that happen.
I had thought to escort the ladies to town to partake of some amusement there, but the scheme was not as charming as I had imagined, and it was soundly rejected. Miss Lydia informed me that, as she and Georgiana are not out, there is very little to engage them. Miss Bennet does not yet feel equal to appearing in society, and Elizabeth said not even she would be so bold as to be seen in town during the season when she is supposed to be in mourning. I do not regret the outcome; as you know, I am always happy to remain at Pemberley. I confess to being far more entertained here than I had imagined at first. The ladies provide excellent music and conversation, and I find it is rarely dull when they are about.
I would suggest you and Lady Amelia join us when you grow weary of one another’s company, but as I think that to be an unlikely event, I shall only suggest you come to us on your way to Kent. Bingley should have arrived by then, and I have no doubt Lady Amelia will be delighted to make the acquaintance of Mrs Bingley and her children. Even if that were not the case, I know I shall be in need of male reinforcements after being outnumbered in my own house for such a long period of time.
Until then, I remain
Your cousin,
Fitzwilliam Darcy
April 1814, Pemberley
“Lizzy! Come quickly! Mr Darcy has a surprise for you!” Lydia called through the library to her elder sister.
“Lydia, there is no need to yell,” Mary admonished.
“You will not discourage me today, Mary, for you know as well as I what he has done!”
“It seems I should be concerned if Mr Darcy is conspiring with my sisters,” Elizabeth said to stop the impending argument.
“Pish! You know very well he would sooner give up his estate than harm you!” Lydia replied.
Elizabeth blushed at her suggestion. “In any case, we should not keep him waiting,” she said and laid her book aside to follow her sisters.
On reaching the front hall, Elizabeth was overcome with joy on seeing not only Catherine and Jane, but also Jane’s children. Darcy stood quietly to one side with Bingley, observing the reunion with no small degree of pleasure.
Having been once again reunited with a missed and beloved sister, Elizabeth spoke to Darcy that evening, “If I did not know better, sir, I would think you are courting me.”
“Who says I am not?”
April 10, 1814
Pemberley, Derbyshire
Dear Uncle,
I find myself in need of your advice. You will, I am certain, recall making the acquaintance of Mrs Elizabeth Collins last Christmas, and of course, you are aware of the lady’s history as you have been a source of guidance for me in the past where she is concerned.
Miss Elizabeth has been a guest of Georgiana these past two months, and I find myself as much in her power as I ever was. She is almost wholly restored to the woman I first met so long ago in Hertfordshire. She is intelligent and determined with a marvellous sense of humour. She challenges me as often as she delights me, and I find myself wishing to make her an offer. Until I began to contemplate a proposal, I had not questioned my reception.
But now I am beset with doubts. How do I ask her to throw aside convention and marry me? How can I know she will accept an offer after having such an abysmal experience in her first marriage? If we marry before her mourning is ended, will I materially damage the chances of not only my sister, but hers as well, to make a good match? Will I destroy any hope of her being accepted into our circle? These and a thousand other questions plague my waking moments. I find all my confidence has deserted me in the face of these fears. I would by no means wish to destroy her happiness. Tell me, uncle, what am I to do?
Your nephew,
Fitzwilliam Darcy
May 1814, Pemberley
Elizabeth sat leaning against the window and watching as raindrops gathered on the glass before streaming in rivulets down the pane. Her plans to walk near the pond had been quickly set aside when she woke to the sound of thunder in the pre-dawn hours. Resolved to enjoy her day regardless of the weather, Elizabeth dressed and slipped quietly to the library. She intended to select a volume and return to her room, but she was distracted by the lightning skipping across the sky and turned instead to the window to watch the storm.
Darcy was displeased by the turn in the weather. Though spring rain was nearly always welcome for his crops, he had rather hoped it would hold off just one more day. As it had not, he adjusted his plans and sought out Georgiana and Lydia. He would need their assistance both in locating Elizabeth and in keeping Mary distracted long enough for him to achieve his purpose. He found them in the music room, and it was only after promising them each two new pieces of music and several lengths of ribbon that they would agree to assist him. They had begun their demands with three pieces of music and fabric enough for one new dress each. In his frustration with the girls, he briefly recalled being pleased when Georgiana had discovered she need not always be meek and compliant. Then he considered that he would have gladly purchased each girl a Season’s worth of dresses and a new instrument if only he could have half an hour of uninterrupted time with Elizabeth.
When Darcy entered the library half an hour later, his irritation at having to resort to bribery in order to gain a private audience with his love vanished instantly at the vision before him. There, wrapped in a shawl and lit only by the occasional burst of lightning, sat Elizabeth. He watched her for several minutes before moving silently to stand behind her. “I have always loved the rain,” he said quietly before placing a gentle hand on her shoulder.
She startled briefly but settled almost as fast then placed her hand atop his where it rested. She gave it a light squeeze and said, “As have I. It is”—she hesitated, then finished—“cleansing, as though the world will be made new with each drop that falls.”
He dropped his head slightly to breathe in the scent of her hair. “Aye, that it is.” The
y remained in their places for several minutes in silence before he spoke again, “I had intended to seek you out today.”
She smiled and gently teased, “How would that be different from any other day, Mr Darcy?”
He moved then to stand in front of her, wanting to see her face—wanting her to see his. “It is different because today I wish to speak with you privately.”
Elizabeth turned her face to his, seeming not to even breathe. “It would appear you have managed to do so.”
“I had a plan, you know. I was going to walk with you to the bridge before taking your hand in mine. I even practised and wrote notes. I am much better with the written word, you see.”
“Will you not tell me what you were going to say?” Elizabeth encouraged.
Darcy shook his head, “I cannot. I had a very pretty speech made, and then I saw you here and I knew.”
“What did you know, sir?”
“I knew that there would never be words sufficient to my cause. I love you, Elizabeth. I have loved you for so long that I can no longer remember a time when my heart did not belong to you. I love you beyond all sense or reason. I loved you in Hertfordshire when you teased and tormented me with your dancing eyes and impertinent tongue. One moment you were just another lady, and the next I loved you so much it frightened me. To my eternal shame, I ran.
“It was my good fortune that Richard, unlike nearly everyone else of my acquaintance, has no fear in pointing out my failings. It was he who showed me my own arrogance and hubris, and when he was done, I could think only of returning to Hertfordshire to earn your love.
“When I learnt you had already been wed, I could not breathe, Elizabeth. I stood in your mother’s parlour listening to her boast of her good sense and fortune, and I wanted to die. I wanted to rage against the injustice of it all. I could not understand how the world could simply continue on as if nothing so completely horrible had just come to pass. How could flowers bloom or birds sing in a world where you were forever beyond my reach?
“My heart ached when I saw you in Kent. You were still so strong and brave, still devoted to your family, and I loved you. You came to Pemberley, and my heart shouted that you were home, that you were where you belonged. I watched as this place began to heal you. I saw when the light returned to your eyes, and I loved you. I loved you at Ashford Lodge when you spun circles in the falling snow and enchanted my entire family, and I love you now.”
He paused and dropped to his knees, taking both her hands in his before continuing.
“This is not what I had planned. You deserve flowers and romance and pretty words. I wanted that for you. But faced with you, faced with this consuming love, I find my plans are all for naught, and I can think only of persuading you to stay here with me for the rest of our lives.
“Elizabeth Bennet, keeper of my heart and possessor of my soul, will you marry me?”
She was silent as he confessed his love, the tears on her face the only outward sign of her feelings. At last, she whispered, “I wonder if anyone has ever been as happy as I am right now.” Then the words fell from her lips, “Yes. Yes, a thousand times, yes!”
Darcy replied to her acceptance as sensibly and warmly as a man violently in love can be expected to do, and in her joy, Elizabeth laughed.
May 14, 1814
Pemberley, Derbyshire
Dear Papa,
I am sending this letter in care of my dear Mr Darcy because I know, after my disastrous first match, that you will be cautious in giving your approval to him.
How can a daughter speak to her father of the man she wishes to marry? I love him, Papa. I love him with my soul. It is not his money, nor the security and respectability he can offer that I love. I would love him even if he were only a servant. I love the way he listens when I speak. I love the way he encourages my impertinence and seeks my opinion. I love the peace I feel when he enters a room. I love the way he looks to the needs of my sisters and his own. I love the way he cares for all those under his mantle of responsibility. He is a kind master, a good brother, and a most excellent man. He is reserved in the company of those he does not know, but I can find no fault in that. He loves me and he respects me. ’Tis more than I ever thought possible in a marriage partner.
I hope this letter gives you peace. If you find yourself in need of additional incentive, the library at Pemberley is astonishing, and I believe even you could quite lose yourself for days in its volumes. Mr Darcy bid me to invite you to come at any time and stay for as long as you like.
Your love-struck daughter,
Elizabeth
May 18, 1814, Longbourn
“What brings you here on this fine day, Mr Darcy?” Mr Bennet said by way of greeting.
Darcy clutched a letter in one hand, abusing the paper badly as he first clenched, then released his fist repeatedly. “I have come to ask after your daughter. Or rather, to ask if I might speak to you of your daughter.”
“I am always happy to speak of my daughters, Mr Darcy. What is it you wished to say?” Mr Bennet’s eyes were alight with mischief.
“I wish to marry her, sir,” Darcy blurted. “I wish to marry your daughter.”
“Ah, I see. Well, Lydia is full young to be married. No matter that she has been out these two years at least. But, you young men will do as you wish, and she does have a lively disposition,” Mr Bennet teased.
Darcy flushed. “It is not Miss Lydia’s hand I seek,”
“No? Then Catherine perhaps? She is a lovely girl and certainly more retiring than her younger sister. Though, do not let her easy manner deceive you. My Catherine is a determined sort, but I suppose you already know this.”
“I do, sir, but it is not Miss Catherine I wish to marry. I much prefer—”
“Mary! Of course! She is quite intelligent and easily a match for you. I daresay you will never lack for serious conversation with Mary as a wife.” Mr Bennet’s eyes were dancing with laughter.
“Elizabeth! It is Elizabeth I love and wish to marry!” Darcy exclaimed and thrust the now-wrinkled letter into Mr Bennet’s hand
“Well, why did you not say so, lad?” Mr Bennet asked as he opened the letter. As he read, the laughter in his eyes gave way to open affection, and Darcy thought he saw tears gather in the older man’s eyes. Mr Bennet set the letter aside and looked at the young man seated across from him. His teasing manner was quickly replaced with solemnity as he spoke. “Treat her well, Mr Darcy. She is precious to me.”
“And to me as well, Mr Bennet—to me as well.”
May 19, 1814
Longbourn, Hertfordshire
Dear Richard,
I have done it. I have asked my beloved Elizabeth to marry me, and she has agreed! I arrived in Hertfordshire only yesterday to seek her father’s blessing, which I secured with only some little teasing on his part. He could not, of course, mistake the meaning of my appearance at his estate as there was no other reason for me to be in the neighbourhood.
Once we were established in his book room and I had stumbled through my reasons for seeking him out, the gentleman took great pleasure in tormenting me with suppositions of which of his daughters I might wish to marry and why each would be a good match. It was then I recalled the letter Elizabeth had given me for her father. I know not what she wrote, only that upon reading it Mr Bennet’s face was graced with a soft smile, and he seemed no longer inclined to tease. Putting the missive aside, he merely looked at me and said, “Treat her well, Mr Darcy. She is precious to me.” I assured him I could do naught else.
Tomorrow I travel to town to retrieve the settlement papers from my solicitor. I shall join your parents, brother, and his wife for a family meal before returning to Longbourn the following day. I shall share the news with your family at dinner. I anticipate they will be pleased and hope to apply to them for advice on managing any gossip surrounding our decision to marry before Elizabeth is officially out of mourning. I am depending upon your mother’s assistance to ease Elizabeth’s transition
. While I have complete confidence in my beloved, I know the support of your mother will do much to silence the worst of the gossips.
I plan to return directly to Pemberley from Longbourn, though I think I shall find it quite desolate. As we are now betrothed, Elizabeth thought—and I agreed—that it would be best if she were to remove with Miss Mary to stay at Grey Manor with the Bingleys and Miss Catherine. She will remain there with her sisters until we are wed. Though, if I am to be honest, Miss Mary is so diligent a chaperone, I was nearly unable to propose in any privacy and so would be in little danger of impropriety whilst she remained at Pemberley.
The banns are to be read in Kent and Derbyshire and we shall marry on June 21 from Pemberley. Mr Bennet had originally thought to join me on the journey north; however, he does not wish to arouse the suspicions of his wife. Though her means are certainly limited, we are both of the opinion that she could easily contrive to find her way to Pemberley or even Grey Manor if she were to learn of the wedding. As none of us wish for the company of Mrs Bennet, Mr Bennet will wait to make the journey.
