The hue and cry around them grew positively feverish as everybody present conjectured, exclaimed, or ranted at what they supposed had transpired under their noses. Elizabeth said not a word, only squeezed Darcy’s hands in return and smiled joyfully, and he felt the very great compliment of his declaration having rendered his usually vivacious and witty beloved utterly and completely speechless.
Chapter 19
Of One Mind
Darcy kicked the door closed behind him, tugged Elizabeth’s hand to turn her back towards him, and pulled her close. Still she said not a word, but as he watched, the look that had decided his heart at the inn returned to her countenance. Her lips parted, her eyes darkened, and she gave the tiniest gasp—an almost inaudible inhalation that spoke volumes as to her anticipation.
He answered the invitation. Taking her face in both his hands, he lowered his lips to hers. His neck screamed for him to desist, but other, more demanding urges begged him not to. He kissed her, and every blank his imagination had attempted to fill these past ten days took form beneath his hands. No longer must he wonder at the tenderness of her lips or the delicacy of her skin. Now heknewthe softness of the curls at the nape of her neck, the depth of the hollow at the small of her back, the sweep of her hips that perfectly matched the curve of his palms, and the devastating power of her caress.
“What you do to me, Elizabeth!” he mouthed, pulling away slightly and resting his forehead upon hers. She returned hisgaze affectionately, biting her lips as though still able to taste him there. Words seemed to have completely failed her, but he cared not, for she had left him in no doubt of her feelings.
Raised voices erupted on the other side of the door. Hardly surprising—he had, with several discreet but not particularly civil hand gestures, asked Fitzwilliam to escort everybody but Bingley, Georgiana, and Mrs Gardiner from the house while he stole this private moment with his newly betrothed. It sounded as though he would owe his cousin several cases of exceedingly expensive wine for his troubles. He rolled his eyes, drawing a small huff of laughter from Elizabeth.
“Will they ever forgive you, do you think?” she said softly, finding her voice at last.
He dared the discomfort of a shrug and mouthed, “After the way they behaved towards you and your aunt, I hardly care.” He surprised himself with a smile as he reflected on the scene—Elizabeth’s influence, he was sure, for he would never usually have seen anything amusing in it. “It was not the way I would have chosen to make my addresses.”
She returned his grin. “You certainly succeeded in amazing the whole room.”
It lifted his heart to be the object of her teasing having come so close to never hearing it again. “I am sorry you were amazed. Would that I had done more to show you how I felt.”
“I blinded myself to it, I am sure,” she replied with a shake of her head. “I thought you disdained me in Hertfordshire and had no reason to think that had changed when I saw you again. Even when you began calling me Elizabeth?—”
“I did?”
She smirked. “Aye. I just assumed it was easier for you to say.”
He laughed a little at himself at having done such a thing unconsciously. It hurt his throat and reminded him of thatfatigue which happiness had allowed him briefly to forget. He led Elizabeth to his desk, where he pulled a second chair close to his own for them to sit next to each other and resumed the conversation on paper.
It was my pride, my unjustifiable conceit, that prevented you from knowing my feelings. I worked hard to repress them until you showed me the absurdity of all my prepossessions. When I realised that I had actually made you hate me, I?—
“Hate you!” Elizabeth interrupted. “I thought you were disagreeable and proud when I first knew you, it is true, but it was not long after you woke up at the inn that I began to realise I was mistaken. After that, my opinion of you improved with almost every conversation. By the evening of the last day, I…well, I dearly wished to believe you when you declared yourself.”
Darcy frowned in puzzlement, and she broke into a beatific smile, laughing as she exclaimed, “So Iwasright not to believe it! Youweredelirious!”
“Believe what?”
“You told me I had utterly bewitched you.”
He shook his head slightly as he dipped his pen, mindful of his stitches but nonetheless incredulous. What a thing to forget!
I confess, I do not recall saying it, but I beg you would believe it. Never has a truer word been spoken.
On reflection, he crossed out the wordspokenand replaced it withmouthed. Elizabeth did not reply but leant forward in her chair, took the pen from his fingers, and wrote,
Mouthed or spoken, I treasure the sentiment.
Darcy reached to take the pen back to reply, but she snatched it away playfully and added to her note.
I am very happy your voice has returned, though, for I like it very well. Nobody talks to me the way you do. You debate with me—as your equal.
He opened the nearest drawer and took out a different pen, which he dipped in the ink and replied,
Elizabeth, you are my superior in every way.
With a look of challenge, she shuffled her chair nearer to the desk.
A second pen is cheating, sir, and you are wrong in the other regard as well. In impertinence—and perhaps in nursing injured Samaritans—I suppose I might claim the upper hand, but you have proved yourself better than I at many other things.
