“I doubt that,” Mary offered. “Lizzy will no doubt delight in hearing when Mr. Darcy’s love became obvious to you, and then perhaps we can all share about when we knew because I assure you, dear sister, it was not this morning when you told us of his proposal.”
They all laughed at this, including Elizabeth, who, though blushing furiously, was entirely delighted.
“Very well, I will tell you,” Georgiana said after they had gotten a hold of themselves once again. “It was when wearrived at Longbourn. I was seated across from William in the carriage, and I watched his countenance light up in a way that reminded me so sharply of how I remembered my parents looking at one another – that look between them is one of my only and my strongest memory of my mother. It was happiness and contentment, joy and hope. I can’t describe it any better, but in that moment, I did not understand why William was wearing that expression. Not until I turned and saw your family was visible, waiting to greet us. You stood a little apart and his eyes remained fixed on you until we came to a stop, that expression unwavering.”
Elizabeth had tears in her eyes when she reached for Georgiana and pulled her friend into her arms.
“Thank you for sharing that with me.”
As they waited for his call, the ladies spoke of all manner of things related to Darcy and Elizabeth, from their first meeting to his proposal. Before the hour for callers arrived, Elizabeth excused herself to speak with her father, feeling he deserved some warning before a young man asked him for her hand.
Like her sisters and Georgiana, he was far less surprised than she imagined he would be.
Chapter Eleven
Autumn 1811
In early autumn Elizabeth and Darcy stood across from one another once again in the ballroom of Netherfield Hall. The room was filled with their family and friends, but it appeared to all and sundry that they did not know, at that moment, that there was anyone else present. This was mostly true. An hour earlier, the couple had stood at the entryway and greeted the guests alongside Mr. Bingley, Miss Bingley, Miss Darcy and Mr. and Mrs. Bennet, welcoming everyone to their engagement celebration. They delighted in the guests’ excitement for the evening and were thankful for all of the well-wishes, which some had travelled quite a distance to deliver.
Georgiana and Mrs. Bennet had been primarily responsible for the event, and their efforts drew much praise. Elizabeth rejoiced in seeing Georgiana confidently greet friend and stranger alike and even shyly accept the many compliments to the arrangements. It had been equally pleasing to watch her mother guide the young lady in the planning process and help her move with confidence into the role of hostess.
When the flow of guests slowed and the musicians began to take their places, Darcy turned to Elizabeth.
“Shall we, my love?”
She nodded and placed her hand in his. They moved towards the ballroom, and Elizabeth worked to catch her breath. Even after a month of courtship—and Fitzwilliam Darcy courted like he did everything else, extremely well—Elizabeth was still not proof against that brilliant, dimpled smile aimed at her. That, paired with his deep brown eyes shining with happiness and a hint of mischief that never failed to remind her of his passionate kisses, was too much for any young lady to bear, never mind one so hopelessly in love. She was comforted by the fact that her betrothed seemed as enchanted and disconcerted by her as she was by him.
As he guided her in the first steps of the country dance, Elizabeth got lost in his loving gaze and he got lost in hers. It was fortunate the dance was a familiar one, or neither would have acquitted themselves well. This dance was followed by others. Darcy danced with Georgiana next—although not out, she was permitted to attend and dance with himself, Bingley and a Darcy cousin who had travelled from London to join in the celebration. This was more than enough for her. Elizabeth danced with Bingley and then Frank Goulding before Darcy reclaimed her.
“Sir, I do believe I promised this dance to Mr. Hurst,” Elizabeth protested even as she allowed him to lead her to the line forming to start the set.
“I persuaded him to give you up.” Darcy smiled as they went down the dance.
“And what did you promise him in exchange for this supreme sacrifice?”
“A bottle of my finest cognac.”
“I am flattered to be worth such a price,” she said when the dance next brought them together.
Darcy’s laughing eyes turned serious and he said, “Elizabeth, you must know I would pay any price, give up anything to be with you or for your happiness.”
“Mr. Darcy, you quite undo me with your romantic declarations,” she teased before adding, “I hope you know that I am yours wholly and completely—without any price to be paid or sacrifice made.”
“I do know,” was his solemn answer.
“And my happiness is assured with you.”
Supper was announced, and Darcy took the opportunity of the movement of many dozens of guests from the ballroom to the dining room to lead Elizabeth in the opposite direction and then out into a familiar courtyard.
“A secret assignation, Mr. Darcy. How scandalous.” She moved towards the bench where they had sat together on that fateful night in September. There was a box resting on it now. “What is this?”
“I suppose you will have to open it to find out.”
It was about the size of her palm, light and wooden, with an intricate carving on the top.
“Are these lilacs?” The carved petals were tipped with a pale purple.
“They are. One of our gardeners is also an excellent craftsman. I commissioned this piece before I left with the Bingleys last summer, telling myself it would be a birthday gift for the next summer.”
