“He did not say. But he has come to call, and so early, too! Is that not enough?” Lydia bustled around the room, much as their mother was prone to do. “Hurry! You do not want to keep him waiting, do you?”
Elizabeth stood frozen in indecision for a moment. Had he come to say goodbye to the family? She could think of no other reason he would be there so early in the day. Perhaps he had simply stopped on his way out of town? But no, Netherfield was directly on the high road. Longbourn was quite out of the way, if he had wanted to take the quickest path. Elizabeth snatched up the dress that she had left on the window seat and went behind the curtain, her feet carrying her where her heart longed to go. She must see him, if only this one last time.
“Fix your hair. I shall tell Mama that you will come down directly,” Lydia said after she had helped Elizabeth climb into her stays and gown. Elizabeth nodded, sitting down at the vanity to do something with her hair. Since time was of the essence, she made a simple bun at the nape of her neck. She looked in the glass, painfully aware of the shadows under her eyes, testament to her sleepless night. But it would have to do. Elizabeth took a deep breath, staring at her reflection. Tolerable, but not handsome enough to tempt him. Did he still think so? And was she wrong to believe that he had come to see so much more in her over the course of their ill-fated engagement?
Her heart pounded in her chest as she walked downstairs, taking them two at a time at first, then slowing as she came to the last few steps. She heard voices travelling from the parlour. Elizabeth smoothed down her day dress and headed toward the drawing room, growing more nervous with every step.
When she entered the drawing room, everyone fell silent for moment. Her mother jumped up from her seat and joined her at the door. “Look, Lizzy, who has come to see us. Mr Darcy, you are so kind to think of us.”
Mr Darcy rose, and for a moment, she wondered if she would remember to breathe. They exchanged bows, and Elizabeth felt a shock run through her as their eyes met. She was reminded of the night before, when he had left the company for a few minutes to stroll outside with Lady Lucas in the moonlight. How she had longed to be the one on his arm!
“How do you do, Mr Darcy?” she asked softly.
“I am well,” he replied. “And you, Miss Elizabeth?”
Her throat went dry at the sound of her name on his lips. “Yes, I am well,” she replied, not knowing what else to say. Certainly the truth was impossible. It was a joy and a torment, being in the same room with him. So close, and yet so far away.
“Mrs Bennet,” Mr Darcy said, his voice quiet but determined. “May I have the privilege of speaking with Miss Elizabeth?” She held her breath. “In private?”
Mrs Bennet stepped forward, bustling about to herd the rest of the girls out of the room. “By all means, Mr Darcy! Girls, to the second parlour with you. Shoo!” she whispered. She turned and kissed Elizabeth on the cheek. “Besides you, my dear, of course.” She turned back around and curtsied to Mr Darcy. “We are so glad to have you back under our humble roof, Mr Darcy.”
Elizabeth hardly knew what to feel, let alone what to think. There was usually only one reason a gentleman asked a lady to speak in private. Yet she dared not let her hopes rise. She did not think she could bear to have them dashed.
Mrs Bennet, at least, had no doubt of his intentions. Her behaviour had made that quite clear. Her mother had been crestfallen since the news that Mr Darcy and she had broken the engagement. Now, it might seem as if she were getting her wish that their understanding be reinstated. Or at least, that is how her mother had treated Mr Darcy. Elizabeth was glad that her mother had not voiced any of her earlier opinions of the gentleman, when she had thought he had gone back on his word. The tongue-lashing had been severe and painful for Elizabeth to hear.
“Mr Darcy?” she asked, forcing herself to return to the present. “I thought you were leaving Meryton today.”
He swallowed, an awkward silence stretching between them. Then he started to close the distance between them, each step closer making her heart skip a beat. He held his hat in his hands, twisting the brim round and round. “I had planned to leave, yes.”
“But?” Elizabeth asked expectantly.
“But I could not go. After seeing you last night at the assembly, I knew I would regret it for the rest of my life if I left without telling you how I truly feel.”
Elizabeth’s head swam. That, surely, could mean only one thing. She placed a hand on the settee to steady herself, feeling as if she were teetering on the edge of a cliff. A wonderful, beautiful, awe-inspiring cliff. If she stepped off into the unknown, where love was often a mystery, there would be no turning back. “And how is that?” she asked, barely above a whisper for the air that seemed denied to her by her traitorous lungs.
Mr Darcy set his hat aside and stepped closer until they were only inches apart. “I have wrestled long and hard with this, Miss Elizabeth. I know that when we first met, there was no end to the misunderstandings between us. However, I hope that I have been clear about my intentions. I never would have broken our engagement if I had not felt that you wished it. Yet I do not mean to importune you. Indeed, one word from you will send me away this instant, and you will never have to see me again.”
He paused, but Elizabeth said nothing, only looking deeply into his piercing green eyes. He took a deep breath and went on. “If your feelings have changed, as I once suspected they had, I would tell you that you have bewitched me, body and soul. I have come to not only respect and cherish your friendship, but to love you. More than you can know,” he murmured. “When I saw you at the assembly last night, I knew I could not leave — not without trying to win your affections. I had intended to keep silent, thinking that you were relieved to be released from our engagement. But I thought I saw in your eyes the same regret I felt so deeply at being separated from you.”
Elizabeth could hardly contain her relief. He took her hand, making her heart race all the more. “You did. Oh, Mr Darcy, indeed you were not wrong. Please, go on.”
He hung his head, studying their intertwined fingers for a moment. Then he knelt and looked up at her expectantly. “Elizabeth, would you do me the honour of becoming my wife?”
In her relief and joy, Elizabeth could hardly stop herself from crying out. She covered her mouth with one hand, trying to keep the sobs at bay. He waited patiently, grasping her hand. “Yes. Yes, I will,” she whispered. When he rose, she went into his arms hesitantly, not wanting to be forward, but then readily as she saw the joy and approval in his eyes. “I am sorry I was so dense, so unyielding before. I had formed an opinion of you based on my hurt feelings. But I have come to see that you are a man unlike any other I have ever known.” She looked up at him, wishing she could express all she felt. Her mind seemed to be racing too fast for the words to form. He traced a finger down her cheeks and she closed her eyes, relishing the intimate gesture. “I was such a fool. Once I thought rather well of Mr Wickham, only to find him an unprincipled scoundrel who would have ruined me without a qualm, and a traitor to boot. I am beholden to you for the way you handled the compromise.”
“No,” Mr Darcy murmured. “I could not have done otherwise. And even then, before I truly knew what you are to me, I did not view the engagement with any dislike. I believe it was rather an excuse to do what I already desired, but had not yet found the wisdom to act on.”
Elizabeth laughed a little shakily. “In that case, I suppose I owe Mr Wickham a debt of gratitude. If he had not devised the scandal between us, I might have continued in my misapprehensions of your character. And Mr Wickham’s, too. Perhaps I would never have seen him for what he truly is.”
He shook his head. “I think not. You would have seen through him sooner or later. And as to any misunderstanding of myself, surely I was equally to blame. I shall never forgive myself for how rudely I spoke of you on the first night of our acquaintance. You would be entirely justified in resenting it.”
“No, I think not. In the end, it was only stubborn pride. I allowed my resentment of an insult hardly even deserving the name to come between us, to stop me from seeing your true worth,” Elizabeth said. She looked up at him, resting her hands on his chest. “I will never make that mistake again.” She took a sharp breath, then met his gaze without wavering. “I love you, too. But there is one more thing we must speak of — the night you walked out of my father’s study when we had successfully exposed Mr Wickham.” She ran her fingers through his hair. “Is there not one more misunderstanding to be resolved? I think I understood it only too late. Let me tell you here and now that I was not relieved to be free to end our engagement. I was relieved that Mr Wickham had been caught, and that he could not hurt anyone anymore.”
Mr Darcy nodded. “I know that now. I am sorry I walked out that night without taking the time to understand your heart, but I was so heartbroken. And I would never have it said that I pressed my attentions on anyone.”
“No one who truly knew you would think that,” Elizabeth said with a smile. “You are a man of honour and character. I could not think of any other man with whom I should wish to spend my life.”
“Elizabeth — ” he whispered, leaning closer. For a moment, she thought he might kiss her. At the last moment, he stopped, his lips hovering just before touching hers. “Elizabeth, we are engaged, are we not? You have agreed to be my wife?”
