by Kara Louise
“There is none that I call a favourite, no.”
“Upon my word, Miss Eliza. Certainly there is someone!” She turned to Jane. “Tell us, Miss Bennet, does your sister speak the truth? With her great beauty, she is keeping a great secret from us! Tell us who Miss Eliza favours!”
Elizabeth shook her head as she considered the desperate measures of this woman.
“There is no one,” Jane answered softly.
Elizabeth was confident that Jane’s answer would suffice in bringing Miss Bingley’s assertions to a halt. But Jane unexpectedly continued, “Unless you would consider Mr. Wright.” Jane gave Elizabeth a smile, which was met by Elizabeth’s startled gaze.
Behind her, Darcy reacted with a start, remembering this as the name Elizabeth cried out when she had a fever. He had only briefly considered him to have been someone she held in her regard, and now began to wonder if indeed he was. He held his breath as he waited for Elizabeth or her sister to continue.
“Oh? And just who is this Mr. Wright?” Miss Bingley seemed most interested.
“Jane, I really do not think anyone is interested in Mr. Wright!” Elizabeth said firmly as she directed an imposing stare at Jane.
Jane, being encouraged along solely by Bingley’s smile, did not notice Elizabeth’s threatening words or piercing stare. Yet in truth, Elizabeth had very rarely ever given Jane either, and therefore she was not inclined to recognize them as such.
As Jane looked to Bingley, she said, “He is someone she met a couple of years ago in a carriage.”
“Jane, please! I do not think anyone is inclined to hear this!”
“I would be very interested in hearing who Mr. Wright is.” Elizabeth closed her eyes as she heard Darcy’s appeal to Jane.
“Please, Jane, no !” This time she shook her head for emphasis, but Bingley was now applying to Jane to continue.
Jane could only smile at Bingley and oblige him. “Mr. Wright was someone Elizabeth met in a carriage while returning from London.” She looked up at Elizabeth and could not understand why her eyes were closed. “Actually, she never got his name, but she felt that he was so right for her, that whenever she talked about him, and she did quite often, she referred to him as Mr. Wright.”
Elizabeth dropped her head, speechless, as Caroline eagerly jumped in. “You are saying that Miss Elizabeth has been pining all these years for a nameless man she only met in a carriage? Is that not sweet?” Caroline patted the arm she held in hers. “You are really quite the romantic, Miss Eliza. I do hope that someday you shall meet this man and that he shall be everything you have imagined him to be all these years.”
Darcy sat motionless as he considered Miss Bennet’s words. A wave of joy swept over him as he realized that all along, Elizabeth had remembered him from that day two years ago and not only that, remembered him with fervent partiality.
Bingley was most engaged by this thought and asked Jane, “And what was there about this man that your sister found so appealing?”
Jane continued. “Even though they only spent a short time in the carriage, Elizabeth had decided he was the most handsome, most intelligent, most gracious man she had ever met. She really did not think any other man would come close to comparing favourably to him.”
Elizabeth’s face was flushed. She could not move, and if she had been able to, she would have seen a look on Darcy’s face buoyantly displaying that every doubt he had entertained about Elizabeth’s feelings toward him were now wiped away. It was a few moments before he was able to speak.
“And, Miss Elizabeth, if you were to meet this man again, do you think you would know him?”
Elizabeth took a deep breath, “Perhaps I may not recognize him immediately, but in time, I am certain I would come to know it was him.”
Darcy smiled. “And I am quite certain that he, in turn, would remember you from that carriage ride. Indeed, he would have to consider himself a most fortunate man.”
The two stared at each other, completely oblivious to the others in the room.
“Do let us have a little music,” cried Miss Bingley, more than aware that something just happened in this conversation, but finding it to be completely baffling. “Louisa, you will not mind my waking Mr. Hurst.”
Her sister made not the smallest objection, and the pianoforte was opened. With Miss Bingley’s command at the pianoforte, all conversation seemed suspended. After a few songs, as much as Jane and Bingley would have preferred to linger together for the duration of the evening, Jane had grown more tired and Elizabeth thought she should take her back upstairs.
As they excused themselves, Elizabeth noticed Darcy’s warm smile. If she had been able to watch him once she left, she would have seen a man reading a very serious historical treatise while a sly grin had taken hold of his features.
Chapter 22
As Elizabeth helped her sister get ready for bed, Jane turned to her. “Lizzy, you seemed upset when I spoke of Mr. Wright tonight.”
Elizabeth waved her hand as if to dismiss the thought.
“I was speaking about him even before I realized that perhaps I should not,” she smiled. “Mr. Bingley seemed so interested.”
And Miss Bingley , Elizabeth said to herself. She took in a deep breath, wondering how much to tell Jane. “I will not say that I was upset, Jane, but perhaps I was more unsettled about how certain people in the room would react.”
“But why? It has been so many years; I thought everyone would enjoy hearing the story. I am so sorry if I embarrassed you.”
Elizabeth sat on the bed next to her after she was settled in and took Jane’s hands in hers. “Jane, remember the other night when I said I had done something that I regretted?”
Jane nodded.
Elizabeth pondered how much she should tell her sister. As long as they were at Netherfield, she did not want to disclose that Darcy had been on the ship with her. “Well, I shall not go into all the details, but…” Elizabeth closed her eyes and breathed in deeply. When she let out the breath, she continued. “Mr. Darcy is… he is… you see… he is Mr. Wright.”
Jane’s eyes widened. “You mean… the real one? The one from two years ago? Or just a new one?”
Elizabeth let out a soft chuckle and nodded. “He is the one who was in the carriage two years ago. And he knows it.”
“Oh, you should have told me! I had no idea.”
“Of course not. And I had no idea the subject of Mr. Wright, the man in the carriage, would come up.”
“Oh, Lizzy! Mr. Darcy? I can scarce believe it! But what was it you did that you regret?”
Elizabeth shook her head. “Not tonight. Some other time. You need to get some sleep. But please, dear Jane, keep this to yourself for now. I do not want Miss Bingley finding out that Mr. Wright is Mr. Darcy.”
“I promise I will, Lizzy.”
Elizabeth smiled. “Good night, dear sister.”
“Good night.”
Elizabeth tucked in the blankets on Jane’s bed, and then walked to her room to contemplate the events of the evening. The look William gave her had given her pause to consider that he did care for her; he cared for her a great deal.
***
The next morning Elizabeth awoke having had slept much more soundly, but now she felt the all too familiar lurching of her heartbeat as her thoughts went to William. She lay in bed watching the light slowly creep up the far bedroom wall and wondered whether she should get up and take another early morning walk.
Elizabeth smiled and threw off the comforter. Whether she should was not the issue. She wanted to, and promptly rose to get herself ready. As she was finishing her hair, she heard the telltale sound of a door opening down the hall and footsteps walking past. Since coming to Netherfield, she had come to recognize the distinct sound of him walking past her door. Her heart fluttered even more.
She grasped the brush to her chest and willed herself to sit for but a few minutes longer. It would not do for her to walk out with Darcy, knowing Caroline
was still doing all she could to keep them from spending any time alone.
Elizabeth waited a little longer, and then quietly walked downstairs. She stepped outdoors and the early morning air beckoned her. It was a little cooler than yesterday, and she pulled her coat around herself tightly as she began walking in the same direction she set out the day before.
Just like the day before, she came upon the turn in the gravel path and saw Darcy leaning against the same tree, in almost the same position. But instead of feeling apprehension, this morning she approached him with a sense of elation.
“Good morning, Elizabeth.”
“Good morning, William.”
Elizabeth was amazed how simply calling him “William” brought a smile to his face.
“I was hoping you would see the benefit of another early morning walk.”
“You should know that I am quite fond of them.”
Darcy smiled and extended his arm to her, and Elizabeth responded in what seemed to her to be a most natural way, slipping her hand around it. They had walked together this way on the ship several times, but then it had been an attempt to convey the picture of a married couple. This morning, it was truly out of a desire to feel the warmth and strength of his arm in her small hand.
As they walked, their conversation began very fundamentally. “Did you sleep well, Elizabeth?”
“Yes, thank you; much better than the two previous nights.”
“I am glad to hear that.” Darcy took in a deep lungful of fresh morning air. “I must admit I slept quite soundly myself.”
“Perhaps it was the evening meal we had,” Elizabeth offered. “I understand some foods are more conducive to allowing one to have a good night’s sleep.”
Darcy laughed. “Or perhaps it was the evening conversation. I, personally, have found certain topics of conversation to put one in a rather contented mood.”
Elizabeth stopped and detected a mischievous twinkle in his eyes. “Perhaps, instead of being content, you were merely bored. Boredom does tend to leave one in a somnolent state.”
“I think not, Elizabeth. Last evening, I was definitely not bored by the conversation.”
Darcy prompted her to begin walking again.
“I think it would be best if we do not stop every time we have something to say. I have been made aware that Miss Bingley has a most attentive lady who waits on her and keeps her apprised of my every move. I would not be surprised if she is up and readying herself to come outdoors as we speak.”
“I would not have considered Miss Bingley an avid walker.”
“Oh, she is not. So I propose that we take a brisk, longer walk this morning, thereby curtailing the chances of encountering her.”
Elizabeth smiled. “I highly concur with your suggestion, William.”
“Good.” The two began walking at a moderate pace and then Darcy added, “Although, as much as I wish to avoid Miss Bingley, I do owe her a debt of gratitude for her inquisitiveness last night.”
Elizabeth looked up to him and watched as a very roguish air settled across his features.
“Mr. Darcy, you appear to be on the verge of imparting some remark that I would imagine might be at my expense.”
“Do you really think I would do such a thing?” He brought his other hand over and placed it on hers. “Have you reverted to calling me Mr. Darcy?”
Elizabeth pursed her lips. “There are times when your behaviour necessitates it, Mr. Darcy. Now is one of those times, as I must put you in your place before you attempt to tease me unmercifully.” She looked up and his smirk had not dissipated. “Mr. Darcy, just say what you must. I shall bear up under it, I am sure.”
He paused, knowing his penchant for unsuccessful teasing, but he had felt too much elation at what he had heard last night to let it pass.
“Your Mr. Wright, whom your sister mentioned last night…”
Elizabeth closed her eyes, but smiled nonetheless. “Yes?”
“When you were feverish that first night in our room, you called out his name.”
Elizabeth looked sharply at him and stopped, not expecting this. “I did?”
He nodded. “You said something like, ‘Mr. Wright, I did not know.’ Now what do you suppose you meant by that?” His smile became more pronounced.
Elizabeth rolled her eyes as she knew what he wanted her to say. “Mr. Darcy, what would you have me say in answer to that? I have become aware these past few days that you remember that carriage ride, that you remember certain aspects of that carriage ride, and that last night, you became aware that I… that I…”
“Yes?” he leaned his head in, anxious for her to finish.
“Sometimes you can be impossible!” She stamped her foot, folded her arms together in front of her, and turned off to the side, more to hide her own smile than to make a firm point.
“I am only encouraging you to finish your sentence.”
“Very smugly, I might add.” She turned and took a few steps. “I believe we should begin walking again, sir.”
Darcy took her arm. “You were going to say?”
She took a breath and coolly replied, “Yes, Mr. Darcy, you are Mr. Wright.”
She actually felt relieved that it was out in the open, felt a sense of relief that at least he knew how she felt. In a softer voice she continued, “But I actually did not realize it until that last night sailing during the storm.” After a pause, she added with a laugh, “It seems as though something deep inside me was quicker to recognize you than I was, though.”
They walked along in silence and finally Elizabeth asked, “I never imagined that you would have remembered the carriage ride. When did you realize it was me?”
“That day you fell on the stairs. I had been enjoying our lively discussions during our morning walks and vaguely remembered thinking the same about the woman in the carriage those years back. When you told me how you had sprained your ankle two years earlier in a fall, I was fairly certain it was you.”
Elizabeth thought back to that day. “That was the very day you made your… your offer.”
“Yes, it was.”
Elizabeth, having a lively and spirited nature, which, in the past few months had been quite subdued, felt an overwhelming tug within her heart.
“Mr. Darcy, you appear to me to have a very self-satisfied, smug look emblazoned across your face. What you heard last night and what you confirmed just now seems to sit well with you.”
“That it does, Elizabeth. It sits very well with me. And is it still to be Mr. Darcy?”
“At the moment, yes, Mr. Darcy.” She stopped again and looked at him. “But there is something that I can view just as smugly.”
Darcy narrowed his eyes and looked at her curiously. “And what would that be?”
She turned and briskly began walking, and Darcy, taking two long strides, easily caught up with her.
“When my aunt and uncle and I visited Pemberley, Mrs. Reynolds was kind enough to include your study in the tour.”
“Your aunt and uncle. These are the two people you spoke so highly of while on the ship.”
“Yes. To me, they are dearest family. They are also the ones from Cheapside.” Elizabeth cast a furtive glance up at Darcy to watch his reaction.
Darcy’s only response was to smile. “But they are the ones you hold in highest…” He stopped abruptly. “The study has never been part of the public tour. Now why would she have done that? Mrs. Reynolds showed you my study ?”
Elizabeth nodded, pursing her lips together and tilting her head to look at him up out of the corner of her eyes.
He looked down at her, his eyebrows creased together, his head tilted, but the remnants of a smile still touching his lips. Elizabeth knew the moment he realized what she was talking about. His head lifted up and his eyes opened wide. He let out a small chuckle.
“Your sampler.”
“Yes, you can imagine my surprise, William, when upon coming into your study, I saw my sampler on the mantel. Mrs. Reyno
lds was so generous to explain how that mantel carried all of your favourite treasures. There was my sampler, framed no less, among miniature portraits of your family and other favourite tokens.”
They reached the pond and Darcy stopped this time, his heart about to burst, and believing he could not feel any greater depth of feeling, he reached out for Elizabeth’s arm, not taking it as he would if he were escorting her, but in a way that brought her to a halt. She turned back, surprised, and was met by his dark eyes searching hers. It was not a time for words, as Darcy brought his other hand around her, drawing her close. She stood motionless, mesmerized by his closeness, his strong arms embracing her and pulling her against his firm chest. She tilted her head up just as his came down and claimed her lips.
His kiss was gentle at first, their lips lightly touching. Darcy tightened his arms around her as the kiss grew more ardent in its intensity. His arms had pinned hers against her side, but she managed, in a concerted effort to steady herself as well as return the embrace, to bend her arms at her elbows and bring her hands to grasp him lightly around his waist.
The rising sun’s reflection on the pond seemed to give life to everything around it, and celebrate a love that was just mutually realized.
Darcy was the one who finally, and most reluctantly, drew himself away. Looking at Elizabeth’s face in that first moment apart, he beheld her eyes closed, her dark lashes splayed down across her eyes. He watched as she slowly opened them, and the green flecks in her hazel eyes shone in the sunlight.
Seeing his gaze upon her and at a loss to know what one says after such a formidable kiss, she merely fixed her eyes back upon him. He reached for a loose strand of her hair, rubbing it between his fingers. How long had he been dreaming of this day, when he knew, in all assurance, that Elizabeth returned his love!
“William,” Elizabeth finally whispered, finding it difficult to catch her breath, “is there nothing you have to say to me about the presence of my sampler there?”
“Your sampler—and its presence there—speak for themselves, I believe.”
