“You, Fitzwilliam?” he asked kindly.
“I sent someone to Scotland a few days ago.”
Darcy spoke with evident embarrassment, yet his determination was equally apparent, strengthened by the depth of his feelings. Darcy kept his eyes fixed elsewhere, but the laughter that suddenly erupted from the opposite armchair forced him to look up. Thomas Bennet was laughing with all his heart.
“My man has just returned from Scotland, my son!”
“And?” Darcy asked impatiently.
“And nothing. You will marry my grandniece because she loves you, not because we discover something unpleasant about your rival.
“I want Elizabeth to choose in the name of love. A glorious and passionate love that will last a lifetime. Mr Kendall has no place in this story so long as you and Elizabeth love one another. She will decide. And I hope that her choice will be you.”
“Thank you, sir,” said Darcy.
Thomas felt entirely at ease in that house and in the company of that young man. Whatever faults he possessed, they were not serious ones.
“Do not concern yourself. The duchess and I shall help your gracious sister receive the guests and entertain them until you arrive with the happy news…I hope.”
“Yes, sir. Hopefully,” Darcy murmured.
Thomas finished the last of his brandy just as voices became audible in the hall.
Less than half an hour later, the guests were assembled in the parlour, where the duchess assisted Georgiana in welcoming them and making the necessary introductions. The Matlocks and Colonel Fitzwilliam arrived shortly after the Bennets and the Bingley party. The Gardiners entered last.
Only Andrew Kendall noticed that Elizabeth and Darcy were absent. He approached the parlour door and glanced into the hall, but in a house of that size they could be anywhere. He had little difficulty guessing why Thomas Bennet had departed an hour before the rest of the party. Dropping into a chair, he found himself unable to share in the general happiness. When he caught the duchess's glance directed towards him, he discovered that her eyes were no longer as kind as they had once been. He rose immediately and mingled amongst the guests to escape her scrutiny. Before long, he found Kitty and Lydia, and the exuberance of the two young ladies gradually improved his spirits.
Chapter 26
Darcy was sitting completely still in his favourite armchair with his eyes closed. It was the best moment he had known since he had met Mr Kendall and observed what seemed to be Elizabeth’s interest in that gentleman. He blamed himself for not proposing at Netherfield. Still, regrets concerning the past were as useless as his anxieties regarding the future.
Thomas Bennet’s words from their time at Netherfield floated into his mind, more potent than anything else. At the hunting party organised before the wedding, Thomas and he had become separated from the other hunters. They had stopped in a pretty clearing to wait for the others, drunk brandy from Thomas’s flat silver bottle, and discussed little matters connected with the wedding and the guests. Suddenly, Thomas had turned to him and said, “It takes just a moment—a single glance—to lose the woman you love.” It was so unexpected that Darcy could not say a word, yet he felt closer to that stranger than he had felt to any other person in a long time. He had not seemed a friend so much as a father, and the encounter made Darcy realise how greatly he missed his parents and the care that had once made his life feel whole.
At first, he did not realise that the elderly gentleman was offering him advice, but it became clearer over time. It was not the sort of counsel he would have ventured to give Bingley, but something drawn from the man's heart and experience. It was a father's suggestion, one that any man would do well to heed.
A few days later, he had found himself in the midst of a conflict he had never imagined.
A light knock upon the door roused him from his reverie. Supposing it to be a servant, he scarcely opened his eyes, and then Elizabeth was standing before him.
Alone at last in his home, so beautiful that his heart seemed to stop, while a tremendous pain seized his chest. He marvelled that love could be enchantment and suffering at the same time. She seemed changed, though in a strange manner, and he feared that this new Elizabeth might say no just as the former one had done.
He sprang to his feet and bowed, hoping no one would come to disturb them. He even wished to lock the door, yet did not dare move away from her and her beautiful eyes.
“My uncle said that you wanted to show me the library,” she said at last, and her voice was as merry as her countenance. It was a ruse; an intelligent lady such as Elizabeth could not fail to know what had happened, yet she came, nevertheless. Darcy, however, did not wish to indulge too much hope. Kent returned vividly to his mind; he had been so certain she would answer with a simple yes, and instead he had received a terrifying refusal.
He had prepared many speeches, yet now that she stood before him, he had forgotten them all.
“Yes, Elizabeth, I want to—”
He fell silent, his eyes fixed upon hers with such intensity that she could not understand why he had stopped or what he intended to say.
“Will you marry me?” he heard himself ask, contrary to everything he had previously resolved to say and do. He longed to shut his eyes as he had done in childhood whenever he had been too frightened to look.
“Yes!”
Almost inconceivably, the answer came, and wishing to hear her voice once more, wishing to be certain, he ordered in a rough voice, “Say it again!”
“Yes,” she cried, “yes, yes, yes! How many times must I repeat it?”
