A Very Austen Valentine

by Robin Helm

  He fell silent, anxiously waiting for her answer.

  She was so overcome with emotion, she could not speak at first.

  He continued in a downhearted tone, “If your feelings are the same as they were in January, just say the word, and I will speak of mine no more.”

  Unwilling to allow him to suffer any longer, she forced herself to calm. “Mr. Darcy, upon further acquaintance, I can now say with confidence that I desire the opposite of what I did several weeks ago. My feelings have become so deep that I, too, cannot see a future without you in it. I would be pleased and honoured to become your wife.”

  He quickly let out a breath. His voice was shaky. “You accept me?”

  Her eyes filled with tears. Nodding, she smiled. “I do.”

  He placed her hand on his chest and held it there with one of his. His heart hammered against her palm.

  “You are my heart, Elizabeth. My sweet, lovely Valentine.”

  He angled towards her, examined every inch of her face, halting at her lips. “I have dreamed of this so many times,” he whispered. “Is this truly real?”

  She smiled. “I certainly hope so.”

  “I would very much like to kiss you, Elizabeth.”

  She tilted her head and moistened her lips. “I certainly hope so.”

  His hands moved to her cheeks, thumbs caressing her skin. He kissed her, a gentle brush of lips.

  She made sure he would see her permission to kiss her again; inclining her head, sliding her gaze from his eyes to his mouth.

  He leaned in, and she moved towards him, raising her hand to his shoulder, the other to his neck.

  He tasted her again and again, until he pulled away to look in her eyes. “If this is a dream, I wish it to never end.”

  He kissed her, then breathless, he lowered his forehead to hers.

  “Thank you so much for the valentine poem today. I have savoured them all, but the one you sent this evening, I will treasure the most.”

  He pulled back, surprise in his eyes. “You savoured them all? You received other poems?”

  “Yes. Three in total.”

  “Who were they from?”

  She furrowed her brow. “You, of course.”

  “Elizabeth. I only sent one — today, with the flowers. The others were not from me.” He raised his eyebrows.

  “Not from you? But…”

  “Are you certain you do not have another admirer?”

  She shook her head. “I confess that the one I received today is of a style I would expect from you, but the others were not. If they had not been in your handwriting—”

  “My handwriting, you say?”

  “Yes. I wanted to be sure, so I asked Charles to confirm it.” She cocked her head to the side. “The first two had pretty borders drawn around the edges.”

  “Borders?” His eyes opened wide. “Anne! And Richard must have helped her!”

  He chuckled, and gradually it escalated into full out laughter.

  It was infectious. Before long, although she was not sure why, Elizabeth was laughing, too.

  As they calmed, she placed her hand on his arm. “Can you please tell me what is so funny? Were they not from you?”

  He took her hand from his arm and brought it to his lips, then continued holding it in both of his. A shiver passed up her spine.

  “Anne hurt her arm — or told me she did. Now I am quite sure she pretended to by design. She asked if I could write out some poems she wished to send to Mr. Gibbs, her fiancé, on paper upon which Georgiana had drawn boarders. They were not what I would have chosen to send to my own Valentine, but I did not question her taste. Richard must have devised a way to have them delivered to you.”

  “They were helping you along?”

  “Helping us along.” He smiled. “Yes, so it seems. They urged me to follow my heart and were convinced we belonged together, but I was so uncertain about what to do. They must have assumed I would make a mess of things and resolved to act to bring us together.”

  Though it was a little embarrassing, it was nice to know that not all his family would be against the match.

  “Did the valentines help?” he asked.

  Elizabeth thought about it a moment. “I believe they did. When I realized I cared for you, I never guessed you could still feel the same way after what I had said to you. They gave me hope.”

  “I never stopped loving you.” He pulled her into his embrace. “If they were of even the slightest assistance in getting us to this point, I will be forever grateful to Anne and Richard.”

  She sighed and listened to his heart beating.

  “I love you,” she said, realizing she had not actually said the words.

  He took a deep breath and kissed the top of her head. “I feel as though I have always loved you, my dearest, loveliest Elizabeth. I know I always will.”

  ⸟ﻬ⸞ﻬ⸟

  Jane and Charles were not very surprised with the news of their engagement, though they were overjoyed. Eventually, the two couples re-entered the ball.

  Even though Darcy did not wish to share Elizabeth with anyone, he was finally convinced that he should introduce her to a number of ladies. He also did so with a few trustworthy gentlemen who seemed interested in meeting her, and though he could not present Elizabeth as his intended as of yet, for he had not spoken to Mr. Bennet, he was sure the looks he gave these men left them with no doubt as to the situation between them.

  Both Elizabeth and Jane danced many dances. Charles took the floor for nearly every set as well, but other than dancing once with Jane, Darcy’s only partner was Elizabeth. Their pairing again for the final set of the evening, set tongues to wagging, but neither cared. They only had eyes for each other.

  When it was time to leave, Darcy could not quite let her go. He told his own driver to meet him at the Bingley’s home and joined them in the Bingley’s coach, then walked them into the house. Jane and Charles allowed them to say their goodbyes in the empty morning parlour off to one side of the entrance hall while the married couple removed their wraps, as long as they left the door open.

  Darcy took both her hands in his. “When do you return to Longbourn, my love?”

  “My love.” She smiled. “That sounds so nice.”

  He stepped closer.

  “I shall remember to call you that in the future.”

  “I return home in two weeks,” she answered. “Do you wish to wait until then to ask my father?”

  “I may have to. My aunt and uncle are no longer in town, and I will not take Georgiana with me to Hertfordshire until the militia has moved on.”

  “Perhaps she can stay with us? I am sure Jane and Charles would not mind. If there is not another room ready for occupancy, she can share with me.”

  He raised his eyebrows. “That is a brilliant idea. If Charles and Mrs. Bingley approve, I will ask Georgiana first thing in the morning and send a note to Charles. I can leave for Longbourn the following day.”

  She raised a hand to her mouth. “Oh, dear. I just realized I shall have to write notes to my parents that you must deliver. My mother will accept anything when it comes to a daughter marrying, but I am afraid my father might not believe I have consented if he does not hear it from me directly.”

  “Was your opinion of me so low when I left Hertfordshire?”

  Elizabeth frowned. “I am sorry, but it was. I fear I was vocal in my anger towards you for turning down Charles’s request to be his best man. And you know the other matters. I simply did not understand.”

  “I should have explained all while I was there, but—” He shrugged.

  “You were too busy avoiding me.”

  He moved a step closer. “Only because you are the most strikingly beautiful, witty, clever, intelligent, and charming lady I had ever met.”

  He touched his lips to hers.

  She pulled away. “So, I am handsome enough to tempt you, after all?”

  He stepped back a pace. “You heard that?”

&nbs
p; She nodded. “I thought I should tell you before you left for Hertfordshire, since my father is likely to tease you about it for the rest of his life.”

  His face heated. “I am very glad you agreed to erase the past, or—”

  She took a step closer to him, moved up onto her tiptoes, and prevented his continuing with a kiss. She leaned back slightly and whispered, “I am determined to remember our past only as it gives me pleasure.”

  He chuckled. “For my sake, that might be very wise, indeed.”

  “And mine.” She kissed him again. “Fitzwilliam,” she said for the first time.

  The sound of his name on her lips brought him great pleasure. He kissed her thoroughly, and then pulled her to his chest.

  “When shall we marry?”

  “Jane and Charles married so quickly, it barely gave my mother time to plan. She would probably like to have time to arrange things more to her liking this time.”

  “Richard will be leaving England soon. I would like to include him, if possible.”

  She was silent for a minute, then said, “It might help smooth my mother’s nerves if you were able to obtain a special license. Is that possible?”

  “I believe that could be arranged.” He kissed her forehead. “Thank you, Elizabeth.”

  “For?”

  “For agreeing to be mine.”

  Elizabeth looked into his eyes. “My Forever Valentine.”

  He pulled her close again and sighed. “Forever.”

  The End

  I hope you enjoyed “My Forever Valentine.”

  Please consider leaving a review for

  A VERY AUSTEN VALENTINE:

  Austen Anthologies, Book 2

  on Amazon.com.

  Thanks!

  Wendi Sotis

  Acknowledgements

  As always, an extra special “thank you” to Gayle Mills and Robin Helm for your editing expertise, plot suggestions, support, and assistance with so many aspects of writing and storytelling going back to when I began to write my very first story, the list is too long to include here.

  Thank you, Ana Morgan, for reading-through and proofreading this story. Your responses and opinions were extremely valuable as I polished this manuscript.

  Thank you to my entire family for your constant support and encouragement.

  Last but not least, thanks to my husband, Matt, and my children, Cal, Luke, and Maddie, for putting up with the many hours I’ve spent clacking away at the keyboard, and for all the times I’ve said “just one minute” that ended with patient reminders that I said it an hour ago.

  Other Books by Wendi Sotis, Available at Amazon.com

  Promises: Can true love reunite childhood sweethearts Elizabeth and Darcy when resentment, scheming relations, and unhappy circumstances drive them apart?

  Dreams and Expectations: Mystery and intrigue unite Darcy and Elizabeth in Hertfordshire, Kent, coastal Broadstairs, and London. How can love flourish when duty forbids it?

  All Hallow’s Eve: High Priestess Elizabeth balks when Darcy is named her Soulmate, tasked to guard her from Evil. Can love bloom as they work to save mankind’s future?

  The Keys for Love: Can attraction deepen into love between pompous CEO Darcy and Elizabeth, a “mere” housesitter? A sweet, Austen-Inspired Contemporary Novella.

  The Gypsy Blessing: How will Elizabeth’s efforts to reshape the events depicted in prophetic drawings alter her destiny with Darcy? Sweet Austen-Inspired Romantic Fantasy.

  Foundation of Love: The Gypsy Blessing 2: Who do the prophetic photos on Elizabeth’s cell come from and why do they pair her with the irritable Will Darcy? An Austen-Inspired Romantic Fantasy.

  Safekeeping: Is the handsome mysterious man next door part of the danger her subconscious is fighting to keep buried? Romantic Mystery with a clever nod at Austen.

  A Lesson Hard Learned: If Darcy returns to Pemberley while Elizabeth is still there recovering from her accident, will he assume the worst of her? An Austen-Inspired Regency.

  The Marriage Pact: Loving an Aldridge, Book One: The heir to an earldom discovers his family has made a secret marriage pact and assumes debutante is deceitful, leaving the young lady heartbroken. How can she make things right? A Regency Romance.

  A Very Austen Christmas: Austen Anthologies, Book 1: No Better Gift. Four favorite authors, four heartwarming Christmas stories set in Jane Austen's Regency world.

  A Very Austen Valentine: Austen Anthologies, Book 2: My Forever Valentine

  PRETENCE AND PREJUDICE

  Barbara Cornthwaite

  PRETENCE AND PREJUDICE

  Copyright © 2018 Barbara Cornthwaite

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems — except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews — without permission in writing from its publisher and author.

  The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious or are used fictitiously. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.

  Mr. Bennet of Longbourn House remembered his old nurse fondly. She had cared for him and his sisters in their early days with wisdom and skill, and when they were too old for a nursemaid, she stayed on in the role of governess. To be sure, she was not as well-educated as most governesses, but then she was more well-read and knowledgeable than most nursery-maids, and as the Bennets did not care for their girls to be prodigies, everyone was perfectly satisfied with this arrangement.

  When Mr. Bennet married and inherited Longbourn, he insisted on his old nurse being the one to care for his own daughters. She was past middle age by that time, of course, but she was beloved of the Bennet girls, who called her Millie (she was really Miss Milsom) and obeyed her far better than they did their mother. When the fifth Bennet daughter, Lydia, was born, Millie found her advancing years to be a hindrance to the carrying out of her duties, and as Mrs. Bennet felt herself unable to do anything with her offspring beyond spending the hour after dinner in their presence, a younger and more energetic nursery-maid was engaged, and Millie was pensioned off with an amount that Mrs. Bennet complained was much too high.

  She was not, however, entirely neglected. She went to live with her sister near Southend, and wrote long letters to the Bennet girls every month. And as they grew, Jane and Elizabeth faithfully wrote back to her, and once in a while, she came to visit them.

  It was after Millie’s sister’s death that Elizabeth, now twenty, went to visit her old nurse at her home in the village of Rowsley. Millie had written cheerfully, as she always did, but Elizabeth detected the melancholy beneath the words. And as her younger sisters (and her mother) seemed especially trying during those winter days, she determined that a visit of at least a month was required. Millie still lived in her sister’s house (a large cottage in good repair, for she had been the widow of a carriage-maker), with a servant girl to help with cleaning and cooking.

  It was the end of January and still bitterly cold when Elizabeth arrived, and she was thankful for the warm fire as she settled down for a cosy chat with Millie.

  “And tell me all the news from Longbourn. Is Netherfield Park let yet?”

  “No, not yet. I did hear that someone was enquiring about it, but it came to nothing.”

  “Such a pity. I have often thought that if it were let to a gentleman—the right sort of single gentleman, you know—he might marry you, or Jane.”

  “Ah, how nice that would be! Very convenient, and extremely romantic. I daresay it would be the perfect plot for a novel. However, the house will probably be let to a stout, balding man with an overbearing wife and six unruly children.”

  “Things always do seem to happen that way,” agreed Millie. “We will not count on you and Jane getting husbands in that way. I suppose no militia is wintering in Meryton? Officers of the regiment always look very smart—although I wish you might not be en
thralled with a penniless younger son, no matter how dashing.”

  “No, there will be no regiment in Meryton this winter, although the gossip is that next winter there might be a militia quartered there.”

  “Well, that would make for a more lively winter than you have had this year. There would be balls, no doubt, and parties for you to attend. I am afraid there is not much hereabouts to entertain you during your stay; although there is an assembly on St. Valentine’s Day. I hope you have a ball-dress.”

  “I’m afraid I do. Mama would have me put one in my trunk, because she said there might be just such an occasion, and she is not one to let any opportunity to snare an eligible husband slip through her fingers.”

  Millie shook her head. “I fear there is no one eligible hereabouts. There is Mr. Deering, who owns half the village, but he has only grown-up daughters, and no nephews or cousins ever seem to visit them. However, you must come and dance at the assembly anyway, as there is little enough to entertain you during your visit.”

  “I must confess that my greatest desire is to ramble through the countryside and do some reading in this quiet place.”

  “We may satisfy you on both counts. There are many fine walks, although I do not think that January is the best time for walking. And there will be plenty of time for reading, and many shelves of books for your perusal. I do hope you have kept up with your French.” She gestured towards a bookcase. “I have several French novels here.”

  “I have not read as much French as I ought, I suppose. I probably should read one of those while I am here. My mother was not happy when she saw Jane with a French book in her hands a month ago; She said we would all be taken for spies if we were too learned in the French tongue. She was even a little fearful of my traveling alone to see you—she heard of the case of that French spy who was caught not long ago, and thought it might be too treacherous to travel. Although what a spy would want with me she could not explain.” Elizabeth smiled slightly. “But you know my mother.”