“It is much less than you deserve,” Mr Darcy told him, implacably stern. Elizabeth caught her breath at seeing him so commanding. Mr Wickham seemed to find the sight equally impressive, for he dropped the wolf mask and ran from the balcony without another word.
All in an instant, Mr Darcy’s air of hauteur and command disappeared. He turned to her with tender concern, reaching out as though to steady her and stopping just short of touching her arm. “Are you well, Miss Bennet? Did he hurt you?”
She shook her head, half dizzy with shock and the effects of his nearness. “I am unharmed,” she said, her voice shaking. “Thanks to you.” She looked up at him, every feeling she had tried to push away coming back to the surface. It was torture to be so close to him one last time and not be able to tell him how she truly felt. It was not just gratitude, she knew that now. But so much more.
“How did you know I needed help?” Elizabeth asked. It was the first thing that came to her mind, now that the ordeal was past. “I was about to scream, cost me what it might, but you came just in time.”
“I met up with Fitzwilliam, and he told me that someone had stolen his mask. It only took me a moment to put two and two together. They were both in military uniform this evening. Having stolen the mask, it was all too easy for Wickham to disguise himself.”
Elizabeth sighed. “It is a wonder you were willing to come and help me, after the way I have treated you.”
Mr Darcy cocked his head to the side, furrowing his brow. “How so?”
“When you confessed your love to me —” she halted, feeling like a fool for bringing it back up. She looked down at her hands, but felt his piercing gaze on her even still. “I rejected your love, and I have treated you with nothing but ill-deserved coldness. Though even then, you were attempting to save me from that contemptible man.”
“No, Miss Bennet,” he said. “You must not blame yourself, for the fault was mine. I have been such a blundering fool.” He hesitated and did not go on until she had looked up at him. There was still such kindness — even longing — in his eyes. “I let go of any anger I felt long since. And if you have come to change your opinion of me, if you would offer me your respect and even your friendship, I would be very glad indeed.”
Elizabeth hardly knew what to say. He seemed to mean so much. She might even dare to hope he could come to care for her again. Did she go too far to imagine it?
But it was necessary to answer him, and she could think of only one response that might convey some of what was in her heart. “Shall we dance again, Mr Darcy?” Elizabeth asked softly.
“I would like nothing more,” he said. He took her hand, warmth spreading through her fingers and down into her soul.
Though the second dance was nearly over, the third was soon to begin. This time, there was no awkwardness between them. They moved as one, with an openness between them she could have only dreamed of.
“You are a vision, Miss Bennet. Indeed, you always have been, in my eyes,” Mr Darcy said.
She laughed. “Even when I walk alone through the countryside, as a young lady ought not to do?”
He chuckled softly, never taking his eyes off her. “Yes, especially then. You have bewitched me from the time we first met, Miss Bennet.” He wrapped his arm tenderly around her waist as they made a turn, looking at her with such longing and affection Elizabeth half-feared she would faint dead away.
The dance was over far too soon, and as he walked her back to her aunt, he lowered his voice. “May I call on you inGracechurch Street, Miss Bennet?” he asked. Hope filled his eyes, and her heart fluttered.
“I should like nothing more, Mr Darcy,” she responded.
When he had delivered her back to the care of her aunt, Elizabeth was too undone to speak for a moment. “My dear, are you alright? You are terribly flushed,” her aunt said. “I thought you were to dance with the colonel? Why were you dancing a second set with Mr Darcy?” Mrs Gardiner asked with concern.
“I am well, Aunt. More than well — I am incandescent!” she exclaimed. Though Elizabeth could see that other guests were turning to look at her, she hardly cared. Finally, she could see her future clearly. A future with Mr Darcy.
Her aunt let out a surprised laugh. “Whatever has happened between you and Mr Darcy, Lizzy?” she whispered.
“I cannot tell all of it here, but suffice to say, we have come to an understanding,” Elizabeth said. “Or at least, I believe we soon will.”
“Oh, my dear! Well, you must tell me all the details. And quickly!”
Elizabeth was too undone to speak of such things with the crowd pressing in around them. “Will you take me home, aunt? There is so much to tell, but it is not fit for anyone but ourselves. At least, not yet.”
“Of course, my dear. Let us find your uncle, and we shall leave forthwith,” her aunt said. She took Elizabeth’s hand, and they wove their way through the crowd.
They soon found Mr Gardiner near the punch table, talking with several gentlemen. Mrs Gardiner made quick work of convincing him they wished to depart, and they were soon standing outside the warm assembly rooms waiting for thecarriage. Thankfully, it was a clear night, cool as it was, and free from the threat of rain.
“What is this all about?” her uncle asked after they had climbed into the carriage. “I thought you two would want to stay until the musicians left at four o’clock tomorrow morning!”
“No, uncle,” Elizabeth said smilingly. “I believe I received all I needed from the evening — and more than I could have ever expected.” She winked at her aunt, with a silent promise to tell all when they arrived home.
Her uncle mumbled something about tomfoolery and leaned his head against the back of his seat, closing his eyes. Her aunt switched seats and sat down beside Elizabeth, gripping her hand. “Tell me what happened at once. I cannot stand it!” her aunt whispered.
Elizabeth regaled her with all the details of Mr Wickham’s would-be abduction, and how Mr Darcy had so valiantly come to her defence and protection. Her aunt’s face grew white as she went on, uttering small gasps as she told of the perfidious Mr Wickham. When she had finished, Mrs Gardiner uttered a loud cry, waking her uncle for a second. “Go back to sleep, dear,” she said, and her uncle mumbled something before dozing once more. Her aunt turned to Elizabeth. “This is all more than I can comprehend. You say that Mr Darcy proposed to you in our parlour, and you did not think to tell us? What has got into your head, Lizzy?”
