“Stop!” Elizabeth exclaimed with a squeal. “You are making me dizzy!”
He set her down at once. She swayed a bit but laughed cheerfully at his alarm. When she was steady, he took her again by the hands. “Do you mean it?”
“Why would I say such a thing if I did not?” she asked pertly.
“And you will marry me?” He felt stupid, asking her so many times to confirm it, but this moment had taken a very long time to arrive.
She gazed up into his face, all trace of levity gone. “Yes, Fitzwilliam. I will marry you. I love you.”
Her name escaped him in a whisper. “Elizabeth.” He touched the sides of her face with gentle hands and bent his head. She tipped her face up to meet him, and he brushed his lips lightly against hers.
It was a touch charged with the sort of electricity that he had only felt once before, when a lightning bolt had split an old Spanish oak at Pemberley not five hundred feet away from him, making his hair stand on end. He kissed her again, a little more passionately this time, but not enough to frighten her. Now that she had said yes, they had time for that. They would have time for everything.
“I do hope that means you have something important to ask of me,” Bingley said laconically from some distance away. Darcy did not move to ascertain how far. “She is my sister now, you know.”
Darcy placed a gentle kiss upon Elizabeth’s brow and pulled slowly away. “So you have informed me,” he responded to Bingley. “And to be perfectly clear,thisis the sister I prefer.”
“Yes, this is the sister everyone prefers, Darcy,” Bingley replied teasingly.
“Are you certain?” Elizabeth asked Darcy softly. “If you are having second thoughts, I am sure Miss Bingley would be only too willing to meet you at the church.”
“Do not say that even in jest,” he warned her, but the side of his mouth tugged up, and she smiled warmly at him in return.
“Lizzy,” Mrs. Bingley called. “Come upstairs with me, dear.”
“I suppose I should,” Elizabeth told him. “Jane can be a rather fearful creature when pressed.”
Darcy shuddered dramatically. “As we have seen. Go on, then.” He chuckled, kissed the back of her hand, and watched as she joined her sister. Mrs. Bingley embraced Elizabeth, and they removed from the room.
“Well, Darcy?”
He dragged his gaze away from the door and back to his friend. “Bingley, I shall speak with Mr. Bennet on this topic. But know that Elizabeth has accepted my hand, and I intend to marry her as soon as may be.”
Bingley smiled. “Congratulations! Now, in addition to another sister, I shall have you as a brother. Fortunately, there is no way I shall ever confuse you with Hurst.” He clapped Darcy on the back.
“How long had you planned this?” Darcy inquired.
“Plan?” Bingley asked, confused. “There was no plan, not really. I noticed at Pemberley that you were enamoured of Lizzy, but at the wedding I realized that you could not stop looking at her. You are a serious man, Darcy. To still be interested in Lizzy after all this time . . . I just thought if I delayed you here long enough that you would both be in the same house at the same time and that eventually you would come up with the correct words to tell Lizzy how you felt.”
“When did you involve Anders?”
“At the wedding breakfast. I just stepped outside for a moment to have a word, but it was very quick as your coachman is rather astute. He was aware that you had not been yourself and he wanted to help.”
“And the clothes?”
Bingley chuckled. “I have just been informed that Jane was responsible for that. She had already requested your clothing be laundered in preparation for your journey, but then Lizzy had confessed that she had feelings for you. So Jane simply asked the staff to delay finishing the task in lieu of other more pressing matters.” Bingley glanced at the door. “My wife is more subtle than I am. I ought to have consulted her right away, and from now on, I shall.”
Before he could finish this conversation, Darcy felt compelled to speak. “Bingley, what you did to keep me here was not onlydishonest—it was truly underhanded. Involving Anders in the lie, which made him extremely uncomfortable—it was beyond wrong.”
His friend merely cocked his head to one side. “You are welcome.”
Darcy shook his head. “Thank you. But do not ever do that again.”
“I will not. You are unlikely to ever again require that sort of extravagant action. Besides, it will be Lizzy’s place, not mine, and judging by her sister, I daresay she would make a better job of it.”
Darcy laughed, thinking of his Elizabeth setting him straight. “I daresay you are right, Bingley.” God help him, he was greatly anticipating it.
“Go to your father,” Mr. Darcy whispered in her ear. “He wishes to speak with you.”
