Chapter Twenty-Nine

A fter Fitz had escorted Georgiana home from services, Darcy remained in the church. He had told his cousin he wished to speak with the vicar, and he had done so, but in truth, he needed to speak with the vicar's superior. Had he been at Pemberley, he would have sought out the estate's chapel, but he was not in the country. Once all the parishioners and their spiritual leader had gone home for their midday meal, Darcy moved to the front pew and knelt in quiet contemplation.

He could feel the warmth of the sun streaming through the stained glass, bathing him and the floor around him in a kaleidoscope of colours. He clasped his hands together, his voice low and earnest as he spoke. "Heavenly Father, you have seen fit to gift me with the love of Miss Elizabeth Bennet, and I am humbled and grateful."

Darcy paused, soaking up the quiet, feeling his soul open like evening primrose. He closed his eyes and tightened the grip of his hands. "Please, grant me the understanding she needs, help me to support and love her through every trial and every joy. Help me to be patient and kind, to listen with an open mind and an open heart, to put her needs above my own. And Lord, please—help me to be a man she can trust without reserve, for she has been failed so many times before."

His voice grew stronger, though not any louder. God did not require that he shout. "Give me the strength to be her rock, her foundation, her partner in all things. Guide me as I strive to build a life with her, a family with her. Above all, help me be the man she deserves throughout our long lives together."

As Darcy finished his prayer, a sense of calm and purpose settled over him. With Elizabeth's love, he would become a husband she could be proud of, and he vowed to spend every day of his life working to be worthy of the blessing her love would give him.

After sleeping soundly from nearly the moment Mr. Darcy had left her the day before until this morning, Elizabeth woke feeling refreshed. Though she still felt a little fragile, she knew she was on the mend. The rest of the family had attended church, but Elizabeth had slept too late to join them. Instead, she sought out the small chapel tucked away in Carlisle House.

Elizabeth sat on a short pew in the quiet room, her head bowed, and her hands clasped tightly in her lap. The soft glow of the April sun through the windows cast a bright light over the floor. A few errant tears tracked down her cheeks, but they were tears of gratitude. She had come to this sacred corner of the house seeking solace and guidance, her heart heavy with the weight of her past, but also hopeful for the future.

"Dear Lord," she whispered, "today I ask for the strength and courage to trust again. Not only Mr. Darcy, but all those who love me. I have been hurt and betrayed and my soul is weary, but you have sent me a good man who loves me and wishes to build a life with me. "

Her cheeks were damp and she lifted a hand to wipe her tears away. "Please, give me the wisdom to see past my fears and the grace to open my heart. Help me to trust in your plan for my life and in the love that Mr. Darcy offers. Guide me, support me when I falter, as I know I will. Help me to support, trust, and love him so that together we may face any trials that come." She rested her forehead against her clasped hands. "And Lord, help me be a woman he can trust without reserve, for he has suffered many losses and has lived a lonely life. I wish to ensure that he will never be lonely again. Above all, help me to be the woman he deserves and the woman he needs as long as we both shall live."

A sense of peace washed over her as she finished her prayer. If Mr. Darcy gave her his strength and courage, she could give him hers.

"You are taking a gift, are you not?" Georgiana called as Darcy was preparing to leave for his call at Carlisle House. She took the last two stairs quickly and made her way to him.

Georgiana had become quite imperious of late. "I am taking a gift," Darcy said.

"Good," she said. "I want you to bring Lizzy home as my sister, and whatever it is that you have done, I am sure you have much to make up to her. What is it?"

"We are not engaged, so I cannot take jewellery," Darcy said, amused. "But she loves marzipan." He showed Georgiana the little box he held in his hand.

Georgiana smiled. "She does love marzipan." She lowered her chin to peer at the box. "Do you have the lemon pieces?"

"Yes, I have the lemon. "

"Good." She nodded. "And you look nice. Very well, you may go."

Darcy chuckled. "May I?"

His sister's cheeks pinked. She laughed softly and nodded. "Yes, you may."

Georgiana was an entirely different girl than she had been at the beginning of the year, and he had Elizabeth to thank for that. So many things to thank Elizabeth for, and so many reasons to be grateful that she had forgiven him.

The sun was shining brightly again. Easter was at the end of the week, and spring seemed to finally be on its way. Darcy stepped up into his carriage, enthusiastic and anxious about his visit. He stroked the ribbon on the box with one finger and tried to convince himself that she would not have changed her mind over the one day they had been apart.

He was shown into the parlour, where Miss Elizabeth sat. Miss Bennet, Miss Hamilton, and Lady Carlisle were in the room as well, but once he had greeted them, his eyes were all for her. Miss Elizabeth was smiling softly at him, and his anxiety eased. She appeared almost herself again, rested and cheerful.

"Mr. Darcy," she greeted him warmly, extending her hand. "Thank you for coming."

Darcy took her hand eagerly and placed a gentle kiss upon it. "There is nowhere else I would rather be." He offered her the little box. "For you."

Miss Elizabeth untied the ribbon and lifted the lid. "Marzipan!" Her smile grew broader. "Did Georgiana tell you?"

He shook his head. "She did tell me, but not until after I had already procured them. Miss Hamilton ordered them at Gunter's, but you were the only one who ate them. Do you not recall?"

She shook her head. "No. "

"I do," Miss Hamilton said. Lady Carlisle nudged her in the side with an elbow.

"How lovely that Mr. Darcy noticed your preferences so long ago, Elizabeth," Lady Carlisle said with a little smile. Miss Bennet and Miss Hamilton kept their eyes on their sewing, but Darcy noted that they were smiling too.

Miss Elizabeth cast her eyes up to the ceiling. "Yes, Lady Carlisle," she said teasingly. "Quite impressive."

"Well," Darcy said carefully, "I do have an excellent memory for most things."

She tipped her head and studied him. "Hmm. Well, you have brought me lemon marzipan, so whatever you are apologising for this time, you are forgiven." The look she sent him was simple to read—she had not changed her mind.

He glanced at the other ladies in the room and asked, very quietly, "Have you been able to rest?"

She glanced at him, her clear eyes both relieved and mischievous. "Yes, Mr. Darcy. Once I poured all my memories over your head, I have slept very well indeed."

"You are welcome," he said wryly.

Elizabeth laughed at this, and though it was brief, the sound was like music to him. The other occupants of the room glanced up sharply at the sound.

"You have no idea how grateful I am to you, Mr. Darcy, for listening. To know that I can trust you with it all and that it does not change how you see me—it is a profound relief."

It had changed how he saw her—it made him angry on her behalf and more protective than he had been. He had admired her before, but that admiration was now even deeper. However, now was not the time to express such thoughts. He hoped that his devotion was clear as he leaned forward to say, in her ear, "Elizabeth, I will always be your strength, if you will be my heart."

"Kindly refrain from the intimacy of whispering, Mr. Darcy," Lady Carlisle said, though she did not sound angry.

Darcy sat back, but he thought he had his answer in Miss Elizabeth's tender gaze.

"Miss Torrington's salon is just after Easter," she said softly.

He shook his head to clear the haze. There were others in the room, and she was guiding him back to safer subjects. "Yes, I recall."

"Do you still intend to allow Georgiana to attend?"

"I do not see why not. I will be there as will you, not to mention her uncle and Fitzwilliam cousins. She will be well chaperoned."

"Excellent," Miss Elizabeth said. "For we are to discuss many subjects of the day, including whether or not a regency is the best manner in which to solve the problem of a ruling monarch's illness."

"My goodness," he replied. "A weighty topic."

"Yes," she agreed. "I am warning you now so that you are prepared."

He chuckled. "I will ensconce myself in the library the moment I return home."

"Do, Mr. Darcy," Miss Elizabeth said slyly. "Do."

There was a commotion at the door, and the butler announced Bingley. Darcy was surprised—had he known Bingley meant to call today, he would have offered him a ride.

But Bingley barely looked at him when he entered the room. He stood ramrod straight and addressed the countess. "Lady Carlisle, may I have your permission to address Miss Bennet privately?"

Lady Carlisle assessed him. "Is there a reason for this privacy, Mr. Bingley? "

"There is."

"Jane," the countess asked, turning to Miss Bennet, "would you like to hear what Mr. Bingley has to say?"

Miss Bennet looked at Miss Elizabeth, who smiled and lifted her shoulders a fraction.

"Yes," Miss Bennet said. "I would. But Elizabeth may remain."

She was a very proper woman, Miss Bennet. But he knew that Miss Elizabeth would be an excellent chaperone, sitting in some distant corner of the room, doing her best not to attend.

"Thank you," Bingley said, and Darcy stood with the other ladies to vacate the room.

"Please stay," Miss Elizabeth said. "I mean, not just this moment, but will you return after Mr. Bingley has said his piece?"

"If you wish," he said affectionately.

"I do."

He stepped out into the hall with Lady Carlisle and Miss Hamilton, though his eyes remained on the door to the parlour. If only he had not bungled everything, he might also be proposing to a Bennet woman today. But no matter. It would happen eventually. Miss Elizabeth seemed determined to put his unwitting deception behind her, and he could not be more relieved.

Elizabeth stood and moved to a chair near the window and opened a book she pretended to read. Mr. Bingley took the seat on the settee next to Jane. "Miss Bennet," he said, nervously, "I have come here today with a purpose, one that you know I have been preparing for."

"I hoped as much," Jane admitted .

"I have only had the house a little more than a week, but I have been working on it every day. I now have a cook, a butler, and a housekeeper installed, and my first meal there was served two nights ago." Mr. Bingley smiled. "No more eating at the club, for Mrs. Vane is exceptionally good. I think you will like her."

Elizabeth glanced at Jane and saw her blush. Mr. Bingley was already talking about cooks and yet had not asked Jane any questions.

"Come now, Mr. Bingley," she muttered. "Do not allow yourself to become distracted."

Perhaps he heard, for he took Jane's hand in his own. "Miss Bennet, from the moment we met, I knew that you would be special to me. Your intelligence, your kindness, your grace, and perhaps most of all, your patience—all tell me that you are the woman for me." He paused to gaze into her eyes. "Have I any hope that I am the man for you?"

It was not a proposal Elizabeth would have liked for herself, but Jane would adore it.

Her sister's free hand rose to her cheek. "Mr. Bingley, I . . ."

"Miss Bennet," he said after she hesitated, lifting her hand to his lips. Elizabeth studiously looked away. "Miss Bennet," he said, "would you do me the extraordinary honour of becoming my wife?"

Elizabeth smiled to herself. Better, Mr. Bingley.

Jane half laughed, half sobbed. "Yes, Mr. Bingley. I would be very happy to be your wife."

Mr. Bingley rose to his feet and pulled Jane into a tender embrace, and Elizabeth kept her eyes on the pages of her book, though she read none of it. Once she thought she had given them enough time for a gentle kiss, Elizabeth peeked up through her lashes.

"Lizzy!" Jane cried. "I am to be married! "

Elizabeth was unable to contain her joy any longer. She abandoned her pretence of reading and rushed to congratulate her sister.

Mr. Bingley received her congratulations with a broad smile and excused himself to speak to Lord Carlisle.

"I can hardly believe it!" Jane said, embracing Elizabeth. "I am to be married to the most wonderful man in the world."

Elizabeth tightened her arms around her sister. It was exactly why they had come to London, but it would still be difficult to part from Jane. They had been everything to one another—their own parents, the best of friends. And now, things would be different.

"What is the date today, Janey?" Elizabeth whispered in Jane's ear.

"April the eighth," Jane replied, perplexed. "Why?"

"I believe we made a little wager the night before we left Longbourn, did we not?"

Jane was quiet for a moment, searching her memory, before she laughed gaily. "You could hardly have known I would receive an offer before Easter."

"You did cut it rather close," Elizabeth agreed. "But Easter is not until Sunday." She leaned close to her sister. "Fortunately it comes rather late this year."

Jane laughed again, more quietly this time. "Oh, Lizzy," she said with a sigh, "can you believe things would end in this happy way?"

Elizabeth saw Lady Carlisle and Amelia standing in the doorway with hopeful expressions, and waved them in. "I can," she told her sister fondly, "and I do."