by P. O. Dixon
“Despite what I said in the letter which, in hindsight, I must confess was the product of my severely bruised ego–that there would be no repetition of the sentiments avowed when I proposed–I find myself standing here before you today telling you that you have bewitched me body and soul. I love you. If your feelings have changed towards me—if you can find it in your heart to forgive me for my ungentlemanly like proposal, then I ask you once again. Please do me the honor of accepting my hand in marriage.”
The anxiety of their situation compelled Elizabeth to speak, and she immediately gave him to understand that her sentiments had undergone so material a change since their time together in Kent as to make her receive his proposal of marriage with gratitude and indeed great pleasure.
The happiness which this reply produced was exactly as it ought to be, and Mr. Darcy expressed himself on the occasion as sensibly and as warmly as a man violently in love can be supposed to do.
His longing, his affection, and all his hopes and dreams for their future felicity where tenderly conveyed when his lips touched her lips for the very first time, proving just how much she was loved by him.
At length, the newly betrothed couple walked on, without knowing in what direction. There was too much to be thought, and felt, and said, for attention to any other objects. Being a curious creature, it was imperative that Elizabeth find out precisely what Mr. Darcy’s role had been in the Brighton affair. As his explanation was perfectly reasonable, Elizabeth thanked him for what he had done on her cousin’s behalf.
As neither of the young lovers was in a hurry to face the reception which no doubt awaited them at Longbourn, they continued walking. After accounting for the reasons that Mr. Darcy fell in love with her, Elizabeth wanted to know what the feelings of those who meant the most to him, specifically his sister, Miss Georgiana Darcy, would be upon learning of the engagement.
Mr. Darcy said, “I had written of you many times before when we were together in Hertfordshire as well as made mention of the fact that you were visiting your friend Mrs. Collins at Easter. I feel it is also incumbent on me to tell you that Georgiana is aware of my telling you of her unfortunate experience with Mr. Wickham.”
“Oh, dear,” cried Elizabeth, “Pray she does not suffer any ill-will toward you for telling me or toward me for now knowing that which was meant to be a closely held family secret.”
“In truth, she was quite upset upon learning what I had done, but once I made her aware of all the particulars, she was quite eager to wish me joy. In hearing that her felicitations were in vain, she was adamant that I must do everything in my power to make amends. She has always wanted a sister, and now that one of her fondest wishes is about to come true, I wager four sides of paper will be insufficient to contain all her delight and all her earnest desire of being loved by you.”
“And what of Lady Catherine de Bourgh? What do you suppose her reaction will be upon learning that her favorite nephew has chosen a bride?” Elizabeth did not wish to elaborate on the rumor that he was supposedly engaged to marry his cousin Miss Anne de Bourgh. There would be time enough for such talk in the days and weeks to come.
“I have little doubt that my aunt Lady Catherine will be rendered exceedingly angry upon hearing of our engagement. On a happier note, having met the colonel, you can have no doubt of his reception.”
Elizabeth nodded. “Yes, that is because the colonel is such an amiable man who makes friends wherever he goes. But what of his father and mother, Lord and Lady Matlock? Will they be just as severe as Lady Catherine?”
“While it is true that both of them may have been harboring the hope that I would choose a bride from among the ton, I have to believe that they will welcome you into our family with open arms. Although Lady Catherine is the earl’s sister, their temperaments are entirely dissimilar.”
“That is good to know,” Elizabeth exclaimed, her spirits playful. “Everyone must look forward to at least a little support from their future relations.”
“And what of your own family? Judging by the relief that shone on your mother’s face when I took my leave of Longbourn earlier today, she will suffer some measure of disappointment.”
Elizabeth laughed a little at his conjecture. “Disappointment, Mr. Darcy? If you believe that, then you have not been paying attention to my mother at all.”
“Then, you are saying she will be pleased?” Mr. Darcy asked, reaching out and caressing Elizabeth’s chin with his finger.
Thoughts of what her mother’s effusions might be danced through Elizabeth’s mind: “Good gracious! Lord bless me! Only think! Dear me! Mr. Darcy! Who would have thought it! Oh! My sweetest Lizzy! How rich and how great you will be! What pin-money, what jewels, what carriages you will have!
“I am so pleased—so happy. Such a charming man! So handsome! So tall! Oh, my dear Lizzy! Pray, apologize for my having disliked him so much before. I hope he will overlook it.
“Dear, dear Lizzy. A house in town! Everything that is charming! Ten thousand pounds a year! Oh, Lord! What will become of me? I shall go distracted.”
Elizabeth pursed her lips amid these reflections. What an embarrassment it would be should my mother greet our arrival with such exaltations as this.
“My mother will surely be as pleased with the news as a mother of five daughters in want of husbands can expect to be.”
“Does the same apply to your father?” Mr. Darcy asked.
Elizabeth could also imagine what her father’s reaction might be: “Lizzy, what are you doing? Are you out of your senses to be accepting this man? Have not you always disliked him? He is rich, to be sure, and you may have many fine clothes and fine carriages. But will that make you happy?”
Not that she would be too concerned, for despite wishing her former opinions had been more reasonable, her expressions more moderate, she was confident that an earnest profession of her current sentiments was all that would be required to persuade her father of her sincerest attachment to Mr. Darcy.
Leaving out the first part, Elizabeth told Mr. Darcy as much. To complete the favorable impression of her family’s anticipated joy, Elizabeth remarked on the pleasure her uncle and aunt Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner would enjoy upon learning of the engagement as well.
It was thus decided that everyone who mattered most to the two of them would be overjoyed by the news of the engagement, and the sentiments of those who were wont to suffer displeasure, specifically the Miss Bingleys of the world, could have no impact at all on the future Mr. and Mrs. Darcy’s felicity.
Chapter 28
comfort and elegance
The news that Elizabeth had accepted Mr. Darcy’s proposal was met with all the excitement and jubilation that could be expected. Amid all the confusion brought about by two engagements, Elizabeth was anxious to make time for her dearest sister.
“I am certainly one of the most fortunate creatures that ever existed!” cried Jane. “Oh! Lizzy, to know you too are equally blessed means the world to me.”
Elizabeth smiled as warmly as could be expected. “Dearest Jane, you cannot know what it means to me to see you so happy. I believe I shall love your Mr. Bingley almost as much as I love Mr. Darcy.”
Jane and Elizabeth merely giggled at this conjecture.
“Oh, Lizzy, I beg you to be serious, for I must know how it came to be that you left Longbourn with little to no discernible prospect for felicity in marriage in the foreseeable future and you returned engaged to marry Mr. Darcy. What is more, why ever did Mama act as though your engagement was a foregone conclusion?”
“In a word,” Elizabeth began, “Phoebe.”
“Phoebe?”
“Indeed, Phoebe,” Elizabeth replied. “Suffice it to say, the entire affair is a rather tangled web. But fear not, for I shall tell you everything there is to know in due time. For now, I suggest you take your place by your Mr. Bingley’s side. By the looks of it, he is desperately missing you.”
“As you will no doubt take your place by your Mr. D
arcy’s side,” Jane said knowingly.
Smiling, Elizabeth said, “My Mr. Darcy. I think I like the sound of that.”
With two daughters engaged in one day, Mrs. Bennet was a happy woman indeed. On such an auspicious occasion as this, little wonder she was able to have a gathering that very evening which included family and close friends and her two future sons-in-law as guests of honor. The Phillipses were sure to be there, and when Phoebe could, she went to Elizabeth and embraced her.
“Cousin Lizzy, allow me to be among the first to wish you joy. I declare you are the luckiest of us all, for not only is your future husband rich, but he is also handsome, which, as I recall, ranked at the very top of your list of what a future husband ought to be.”
“Pray, Phoebe, lower your voice!” Elizabeth scolded, thankful that no one was standing close enough to hear what was being said. She could well imagine the parading, the obsequious civility and indeed the vulgarity that might well tax her future husband’s forbearance during their season of courtship. How delightfully different their lives would be once they were removed from such society to the comfort and elegance of Pemberley.
“Do not tell me you are angry with me for telling your secret,” Phoebe cried.
Throwing a casual glance about the room, Elizabeth said nothing in response, which was sufficient encouragement for her cousin to continue pressing her point.
“I am not saying Mr. Darcy might never have proposed to you again, but you have to confess a part of you feared no gentleman would likely propose twice to the same woman. Had I held my tongue, you might not be standing here before me this evening as the future Mrs. Fitzwilliam Darcy.”
Much too pleased with the way things had unfolded to be really angry, Elizabeth laughed a little at this conjecture. “So, you are suggesting I ought to be thanking you.”
The other young lady nodded. “Indeed, you should be thanking me, for in confiding your secret, I like to suppose I have been the means of uniting you and Mr. Darcy.”
“Phoebe, you credit yourself for what was merely a confluence of favorable events.”
“Oh! Cousin Lizzy, you are no fun at all. You won the greatest prize of all in our little scheme. As it was my idea from the start, can I not claim even a little share of your felicity?”
“Won what prize?” Darcy asked as he approached the two cousins and took his place by Elizabeth’s side.
The very sight of him made Elizabeth’s heart race. The remembrance of the liberties she had allowed him when the two of them were alone some hours earlier made it skip a beat.
Elizabeth said, “I am afraid it is a long story and one that I will gladly share with you at a more convenient time. Suffice it to say that my cousin Phoebe, despite failing to hold her tongue as she promised me she would, congratulates herself instead for being the means of uniting the two of us. She insists I ought to be thanking her.”
Mr. Darcy took Elizabeth’s hand and raised it to his lips. Lowering her hand, he looked at Phoebe. “Then, let me express our mutual gratitude to you, Miss Phillips.”
Phoebe beamed with pleasure in acknowledgment of Mr. Darcy’s gallantry. “You see, Cousin Lizzy, Mr. Darcy bears me no ill-will. You could learn a great deal from your future husband on the power of forgiveness.”
When Phoebe was gone, Darcy said, “That was interesting. I can hardly wait to hear more of this prize your cousin spoke of before. Perhaps you might join me outside for a rather lengthy private intercourse.”
Smiling, Elizabeth said, “I should be delighted to join you anywhere your heart desires for a lengthy private intercourse, sir, but only on one condition.”
“And what is that?”
“Talk of anything having to do with my cousin must be the last thing that crosses our lips.”
Leaning as close as propriety allowed in a room full of people and speaking in a manner meant solely for Elizabeth’s ears, Darcy said, “With lips as tender and sweet as yours, my dearest, loveliest Elizabeth, I am more than happy to oblige.”
♥ ♥ ♥
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Chapter 1 – To Reconsider Her Refusal
For the second time in as many hours, Elizabeth retraced her steps along the path leading from the park right up to the gate of the parsonage house.
I absolutely must find Mr. Darcy’s letter.
Indeed. Were it to be discovered by another would mean life-changing consequences for both Elizabeth and the gentleman, to say nothing of the devastating harm to his young sister’s reputation.
With its bountiful white clouds floating overhead on what otherwise was a perfect day, the picturesque blue sky above presented a stark contrast to the muddled mixture of conflicting emotions warring inside her. Amid the turmoil in her mind from reading Mr. Darcy’s letter, folding it, tucking it into her pocket, retrieving it, and rereading it in frequent repetition, Elizabeth misplaced it somewhere along the way.
How could I have been so careless with something so delicate as a letter from a gentleman so wholly unconnected to me as Mr. Darcy—a letter revealing his family’s most closely guarded secrets no less? Such had been Elizabeth’s silent self-interrogation over and again.
For her own part, her rejection of yet another man’s proposal of marriage would be discovered. And not just any man, but a man of consequence. Even those closest to her would consider her a laughing stock for refusing the hand of one of the most eligible bachelors in all of England.
Many would also argue one of the most desirable, she silently reminded herself. Being the second eldest of five daughters living at an estate that was entailed to the male line of the family, she had spent the better part of her twenty years listening to her mother’s favorite complaints of the importance of finding a husband.
Indeed, a marriage to such a man might have been something wonderful for her family’s prospects, and most importantly, her sister Jane’s chances for felicity with the gentleman’s best friend, a Mr. Charles Bingley. Making matters worse was the opening of the letter where he vowed there would be no repetition of the sentiment he had espoused the previous evening, which meant that even if she had been tempted by the eloquence of his letter to reconsider her refusal, it was too late.
Elizabeth had made an enemy of the one man who could right the wrong to her beloved sister. But was he indeed an enemy, she wondered, for he had also confided in her a great secret about his own sister’s brush with scandal, the general knowledge of which might have severe consequences even now. What better evidence that he trusted her.
All that will change if I do not manage to secure and destroy the tell-all letter before it falls into the wrong hands.
How miserable her life would be should the letter be seen by Mr. Darcy’s haughty aunt, Lady Catherine de Bourgh, who credited her own generosity of spirits as the reason for Elizabeth’s being in Kent. How wretched if her cousin, Mr. Collins, should stumble across the letter. Having been spurned by Elizabeth, he would no doubt relish in the opportunity to expose her before his noble patroness for censure.
Either would result in my being forced to return to Longbourn, my father’s home, in shame. Such a prospect would contribute greatly to the detriment of her sisters as well. Her elder sister, Jane, whom Mr. Darcy had mentioned by name would surely be ridiculed. Indeed, no one in her family would escape condemnation, she considered as a most disparaging account of their behavior in Hertfordshire was cited: “The situation of your mother’s family, though objectionable, was nothing in comparison to that total want of propriety so frequently, so almost uniformly betrayed by herself, by your three younger sisters, and occasionally even by your father.”
So much as she was concerned about how the contents of the letter reflected on her family, the more serious potential harm would befall his very own sister. Mr. Darcy had explained at length how he had arrived in Ramsgate just in time to prevent h
er from eloping with his worst enemy, George Wickham. All this he had disclosed with the expectation of secrecy, Elizabeth considered in reflection of his heart-wrenching written words:
“I must now mention a circumstance which I would wish to forget myself, and which no obligation less than the present should induce me to unfold to any human being. Having said thus much, I feel no doubt of your secrecy. My sister, who is more than ten years my junior, was left to the guardianship of my mother’s nephew, Colonel Fitzwilliam, and myself. About a year ago, she was taken from school, and an establishment formed for her in London. Last summer she went with the lady who presided over it to Ramsgate; and thither also went Mr. Wickham, undoubtedly by design; for there proved to have been a prior acquaintance between him and Mrs. Younge, in whose character we were most unhappily deceived.
Elizabeth’s silent recollection of Mr. Darcy’s letter was soon interrupted by the sound of someone’s voice.
“Pardon me, Madam. You seem to be in search of something. May I offer you my help?”
Startled by her unexpected companion, Elizabeth spun around on her heel. Her eyes met those of a stranger’s, which was some consolation, for it spared her the embarrassment of confiding what she was searching for.
“No!” Elizabeth exclaimed with energy. Remembering her manners, she said, “That is to say, I should hate to inconvenience you.”
“It is no bother,” replied the stranger, a stout woman on the best side of thirty with a pleasant countenance. Her manner of dress suggested she might be a servant—a servant from Rosings Park. “I assure you I am more than happy to help you find whatever it is that you are looking for. Perhaps you might describe it.”
Despite being surprised to meet anyone other than Colonel Fitzwilliam or Mr. Darcy in that particular lane, if she were to encounter anyone at that precise moment, far better it was a servant. She had lost count of the number of times she had accidentally met the latter of Lady Catherine de Bourgh’s aforementioned nephews only to have him turn and take the empty space by her side and proceed to accompany her on what was meant to be a solitary ramble. How odd it always struck her that he would even wish for her company. She always supposed he did not like her, and as she had never consciously done anything to garner his good opinion, his opinion of her was of little consequence.
