Finito

Finito

Exactly as expected, Mr Darcy reached into his waistcoat, extracted the leather pouch Mr Smithson had retrieved earlier, and placed what I would later learn was his grandmother’s ring on my finger. Just like that, with three words , my life was decided. I was now engaged to a man I was certain loved me. My own feelings could not possibly have changed from dislike all the way to love in an hour, but I was certain it would soon enough. In truth, I suspect I was already in love with him but planned to be slow and cautious with my feelings, not admitting to being head over heels until at least the midpoint of our first dance. I liked him tremendously. I respected him enormously. I would love him with all my heart soon. That was more than enough.

Mr Collins was standing there staring at us, but I could not be bothered to worry about him.

He surprised me by asking, “Am I privileged to be the first to wish you joy, cousin?”

I simply nodded, unwilling to sully the moment with any words.

Much to my surprise, Mr Collins added, “I will cherish this conversation all my life. Mr Darcy. Cousin Elizabeth. I wish you joy. Fear not. I can see this is not public, so I will bask in the glory of having witnessed it, enjoy being in your confidence, and say nothing. I must go for my dance with Miss Mary. Good fortune.”

I watched him go with some bemusement, then looked around to see if anyone had noticed us. Astoundingly, nobody appeared to have done so, which boded well. I wanted a few minutes of privacy, although I well knew speculation would run rampant when I stood up for the first with my secret intended.

With some regret, I pulled my glove back on, then gave my hand back to the future father of my children, and we left for our first of many dances.

~~~~ ~

My first dance with Fitzwilliam was wonderful. I took my place in the set, amazed at the dignity to which I was arrived in being allowed to stand opposite to Mr Darcy, and reading in my neighbours’s looks, their equal amazement in beholding it.

Well, who am I sporting with? I could not possibly spare even one thought for my neighbours, nor did I need to spend any more time talking with Fitzwilliam. I asked for his given name while walking to the top of the set, smiled sweetly at Jane as she looked at us with open amazement, closed my ears to the high-pitched screech Mama made seeing me standing up with Mr ten-thousand and just danced.

Every time my hand came in contact, I could feel my ring practically burning a hole through my glove. Every time my mouth thought to contort itself out of a smile I… well, again, who am I fooling. I am sure I looked like the silly besotted fool I was. All I had to do to match that look was copy my beau.

Fitzwilliam looked so-so-so different . He had a look of pure happiness, and I realised I had never seen him with anything but a look of confusion or fear—or both. He had so diligently protected his heart and tried his best to match all the expectations his family must have beat into his head with a mallet, until he just lost it. When love breached all his defences, he was overwhelmed and never looked back.

We finished the dance having not said a word the entire time. Our dance partners noticed our silence but did not comment on it—while they were next to us, at least.

When the dance ended half a moment later, we oh-so-casually sauntered over to find Papa for his blessing. Fitzwilliam asked if it would be a problem, and I replied with a question about the relative odds of Papa being able to stand against the combined weight of a gentleman of his standing, his favourite daughter, and his wife. Poor Papa! It really was not a fair fight, and he knew it had been lost with a single glance at us .

When Fitzwilliam stood in front of him, I expected the traditional dressing down and detailed question fathers live for. Instead, he just gave us an intense look and stared at my left glove. I removed it without a word, showed him the ring, and he kissed my hand.

It appeared that brevity was becoming quite the fashion.

I finally thought I should be a bit more explicit, so I said, “Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Twenty-six. Yes.”

Fitzwilliam just chuckled, and replied, “Can you be more specific? Those are all good answers, so what are the questions?”

With a big smile I said, “Yes, you may request the supper set. Yes, it will be granted. Yes, to your request for the last set. Yes, I will marry you. Yes, I will love, honour and respect you all our lives one month from today on the 26 th of December. Yes, you may kiss me at your leisure so long as your leisure occurs in the next three minutes.”

I am not sure exactly what he said, because he dragged me behind a pillar out of sight and kissed me to within an inch of my life.