Page 116 of Pride, Prejudice & Wicked Pleasure

“For now, I am content to rejoice in your happiness. Miss Bennet is truly a find.”

His statement had the desired effect of turning Charles’s attentions to his beloved, whose qualities he enjoyed extolling.

The two men were received at Longbourn much in the same fashion as before. Mrs. Bennet was effusive in her welcome of Charles, and her joy of the pending nuptials overflowed enough to provide even Darcy a modestly amicable greeting.

Darcy’s gaze went straight to Miss Elizabeth, who looked upon her mother with some dread as Mrs. Bennet remarked, “And Mr. Darcy, we had the pleasure the other day—”

“Pardon the interruption,” Charles said, “but, as the weather is most glorious, shall we go for a walk?”

“I am not in the habit of walking,” Mrs. Bennet replied, “but you younger folk, by all means, take a walk on this lovely day!”

She shooed them out the door and remained in the house with her third daughter, Mary, who regretted she could not spare the time.

Charles and Jane soon allowed the others to outstrip them. They lagged behind, leaving Darcy with Miss Elizabeth and Miss Kitty to entertain each other. The younger of the Bennet girls seemed too afraid to speak. Miss Elizabeth seemed deep in thought.

Darcy was desperate to speak with Miss Elizabeth. As Charles had wished, he had no intention of standing idly by upon this visit. He would know Miss Elizabeth’s sentiments once and for all. If she bore him no affection, then the matter was at an end. But if she provided a more positive answer, what was he to do then? When and should he reveal his secret? How would she receive the fact that he had served as a mentor at Trenwith House? Though she herself was compromised, she had known no other man than he. Would she take exception to the fact that he had bedded other women? Would she be angry with him that he had known her identity? Would knowledge of all this destroy whatever tender feelings she had for him?

As speculation produced nothing, he resolved to take Charles’s advice not to analyze overmuch. One step at a time, he told himself. His uncertainties would be irrelevant if Miss Elizabeth was not in the least partial to him.

They walked toward the Lucases’ because Miss Kitty wished to call upon Miss Maria. Miss Elizabeth made no objection when her sister left them and went boldly with Darcy alone. Elated to have her to himself and determined to take advantage of the opportunity, he prepared to execute his resolution, but she spoke first.

"Mr. Darcy, I am a very selfish creature; and, for the sake of giving relief to my own feelings, care not how much I may be wounding yours,” she said immediately. “I can no longer help thanking you for your unexampled kindness to my poor sister. Ever since I have known it, I have been most anxious to acknowledge to you how gratefully I feel it. Were it known to the rest of my family, I should not have merely my own gratitude to express."

He felt surprised, then his colour changed. “I am sorry, exceedingly sorry, that you have ever been informed of what may, in a mistaken light, have given you uneasiness. I did not think Mrs. Gardiner was so little to be trusted."

"You must not blame my aunt. Lydia's thoughtlessness first betrayed to me that you had been concerned in the matter, and, of course, I could not rest till I knew the particulars. Let me thank you again and again, in the name of all my family, for that generous compassion which induced you to take so much trouble, and bear so many mortifications, for the sake of discovering them."

"If you will thank me," he replied, "let it be for yourself alone. That the wish of giving happiness to you might add force to the other inducements which led me on, I shall not attempt to deny. But your family owe me nothing. Much as I respect them, I believe I thought only of you."

They had turned upon a gravel path, and for a moment there was only the sound of their footsteps upon the rocks. It was a sunny day, but his warmth came from another place. Miss Elizabeth appeared too embarrassed to reply. It was thus incumbent upon him to continue.

"You are too generous to trifle with me. If your feelings are still what they were last April, tell me so at once. My affections and wishes are unchanged, but one word from you will silence me on this subject forever."

Heart pounding, he stopped and turned to look at her, searching her countenance for indications of what she felt. He saw her blush but could assign no properties to it. She might be mortified, excited, awkward, or all of these.

“My sentiments,” she began—and he clung to every word, attuned to every inflection of tone—“have undergone so material a change, since the period to which you allude, that I must receive your present assurances with gratitude and pleasure.”

At this, he felt the vise about him loosen, allowing him to inhale. Never had a few seconds stretched so long! He wanted to clasp her to his bosom, for only she could diffuse the joy that threatened to burst his chest.

“Your reply has given me such happiness that I am unable to express it with any justice,” he said. “It is a happiness such that I have never felt before. You may suspect me of hyperbole, but it is the truth.”

“You are not a man given to exaggeration,” she acknowledged.

He nodded. “I ought say as little as possible for fear of repeating any of the abhorrence of my first proposal, but I have such a need for you to know the depths of my love and admiration that it overpowers prudence.”

He glanced around, and seeing no one, pulled her over to a thicket of trees.

“I only hope that, through time, I can prove myself worthy of your affections,” he added, the look upon his face further evidence of his emotions.

“Prove worthy?” she cried. “If anyone must prove it, it is I!”

Her response wrenched his heart. Not caring who might come across them, he grasped her. “My love for you is not to be earned. I do give it freely, whether you accept it or not. My heart is yours, to cherish or to crush. I loved you against my own will at first, but that is only testament to the supremacy of the former. Now, I love in favour of my better judgment and with every ounce of desire. If you knew the torment that I had undergone this past fortnight, you might understand the violence of my feelings for you, how much your happiness means to me, and how much I adore you.”

Her eyes glistened with moisture. The fondness in her countenance had him undone. He clasped her closer.

“Miss Elizabeth, may I—?”

She lifted her chin in response, and he met her with an ardent kiss. How glorious she felt in his arms! How sweet her lips! Passion surged through him, the experience heady and novel, as if they kissed for the first time. It was the first time, he reasoned. In the light of day, without masks, and as their true selves. The knowledge that she was to be his, that she returned his affections, lent the kiss significance beyond compare. He wanted to pour the profoundness of his love into the embrace but would not smother her with the force of his feelings. Indeed, only a lifetime of kisses could demonstrate his devotion.