“What you told yourself was not the truth?”
“Not the whole truth. I was already imagining giving it to you with this inside,” he answered, lifting the lid to reveal white velvet trim upon which sat a ring and a pair of earrings—both stunning. The jewels and the settings reminded her of something.
“Fitzwilliam.” She gently touched them, tracing the rubies set against the gold of the pieces. “These look as though they are a set with the necklace - my birthday gift from your father.”
“That is because they are,” he whispered, bringing his lips close to her ear as he gently tugged on the necklace in question, pulling its ruby heart from her skin. “They are a set given to my mother by my grandmother, my father’s mother.”
“Why did you not tell me this at the time? This seems a vital aspect to leave out when you gave me the gift and your father’s note.”
“I was embarrassed!”
“Embarrassed?” Elizabeth was as discomposed by his admission as she was by the way his fingers continued to stroke her neck and collarbone. “What have you ever had to be embarrassed about, Fitzwilliam Darcy?”
“My father had decided to gift you a piece of jewellery that was a favourite of my mother’s and had a very specific meaning, and if I had told you that it had been my mother’s, I felt as if I might have to share the meaning, and I was not ready to do so.”
“And you are now—is that why I am to have the full set?” she teased. It was still a rarity to see him discomposed and Elizabeth enjoyed it a great deal, probably more than she should have. “Before accepting this gift, I feel I am entitled to know what it is I might be agreeing to by donning these pieces.” She laughed, and much to her disappointment, he pulled away and the tiny kisses he had been pressing to her neck and shoulder ceased.
“How do you do that?” he asked, eyes bright and serious.
“Do what?” She reached up to stroke his cheek, and he leaned into her touch.
“Make me laugh when I am uncertain. Make me forget everything but your teasing smile. Make me want you more with each passing moment? How is it possible that I ever thought I could be anything other than irrevocably and deeply in love with you?”
Elizabeth hid her reddened face in his shoulder, still unused to a Darcy so ardently in love he was moved to passionate and romantic speeches. It was a delightful surprise to find him so willing and able to offer words to name his deep feelings for her—would she ever get used to it? It was doubtful.
“You are distracting me with your beautiful declarations, my dear. Now,” she said more seriously, “will you explain the significance of these pieces?”
“They have been handed down to the future mistress of Pemberley for the past three generations, I believe. You would be the fourth. They are intended to convey both love between husband and wife and connection to the love of the Darcys who came before.” He held her eyes with his, and in them she saw the truth of his regard and love for her.
“Oh my.” Elizabeth felt slightly overwhelmed. “Why would Mr. Darcy have given me a piece from such a collection? What had he meant by it?”
“Of that I am not entirely certain. As you know, I did not discover the gift until after his passing.”
“Could it not be that he forgot their significance and simply wanted me to have the necklace because it fit with his kind and encouraging message?”
“It is possible,” he conceded. “But I think more likely they were a sign of his hope.”
“His hope? Do you mean to say that all those years ago he imagined us, he hoped that you and I would eventually marry?”
“I think it is more than that. I think he hoped we would find the kind of love he and my mother had. The kind of love we have found.”
This potential blessing from the man she had admired so much and still missed so dearly was wonderful to consider,but Elizabeth did not feel there was enough information to make such a leap.
“Of course that is possible,” she allowed. “However, I think it likely he simply found a piece that he knew your mother loved and graciously and generously shared it with me."
“No, when I discovered the necklace and the note, I was confused as to his intent. Then I saw you that afternoon in the lilac grove and I became confused as to mine. But over those weeks as I muddled through my own feelings and intentions—”
“Muddled is right—you were so very vexing,” she interrupted.
“I know, my love, and I am pleased you have agreed to marry me that I might offer my sincere apologies through acts of penance and gifts of atonement for the rest of our lives,” he replied, punctuating his words with a passionate kiss that reminded Elizabeth how very much she looked forward to every act of penance he had in mind. But after several moments, she recalled them to the gift in question.
“As I was saying before being so delightfully interrupted, when I was able to think somewhat more clearly—after you had gone—I thought back on two conversations I had with my father that seemed to shed light. Shall I tell you of them?”
“Of course.”
“The first was many years ago, after your first birthday picnic.”
With a feeling of dread and bemusement, Elizabeth thought she knew to which conversation he referred and toldhim so. After some teasing about eavesdropping, feigning sleep and arts and allurements, he revealed that she had not heard the entirety of the conversation after all.
