Chapter 20

Twenty

The following day, accompanied by Miss Catherine, the poorest chaperon in Longbourn village, Darcy was able to tell Elizabeth the story of his final encounter with Wickham. When he concluded, leaving out the particular insults made about her and her sisters, her disgust for one man was undisguised; her admiration for him was astonishing.

"He is truly monstrous," she cried, holding firmly to his arm.

"He is—and has been almost from the cradle. He uses his few attributes to advantage. Wickham has a handsome face and an ease of manner and style of address which make him likeable. Deception and seduction are his talents. Thus it is unsurprising that he has had such success with his schemes."

Glancing down at the ground, where their steps seemed to match in rhythm, he added, "Like my sister, I lack such ease amongst strangers. I spent much of my youth comparing myself to George Wickham."

"I care nothing for his fate, but you must never compare yourself to him —your name does not belong in company with his! You are the best man I know." Elizabeth's hand slipped from his arm to grasp his hand. "I am grateful for all that you have done, all that you are to me."

The endearments thus far exchanged between them had come mostly from Darcy; sentiments and flatteries once foreign to his tongue now flowed easily when with the lady he loved. Elizabeth had been shyer, although her smiles and expressions made clear her feelings were as heartfelt. He slowed and, turning to her, whispered, "To you?"

Elizabeth nodded, an adorable blush pinking her cheeks in the chilly October air.

The warmth in her eyes nearly took him to his knees. Only the nearby presence of Miss Catherine, who appeared awed by his every word and movement, quelled his tongue. Swallowing, he confided, "I would like our sisters—Miss Bennet and Georgiana—to meet again. They are like in spirit. Much as Georgiana wishes to renew their friendship, it is your acquaintance with her I anticipate most keenly."

Elizabeth appeared delighted but gave him a sceptical look. "Jane will be pleased to see her, of course. What is it you anticipate of our meeting?"

"Laughter. Liveliness. There is nothing Georgiana enjoys more than seeing me happy. After too long living with a ‘grumpy brother', she will relish the teasing ways of a sister."

It took him a moment to realise Elizabeth had stopped walking. It took a moment longer for him to realise what he had said.

"This may not be the time nor place for it," he said, looking at her intently, "but I do wish for you to be her sister, and for you to be my wife."

Her expression shifted rapidly; she stared at him in shock, as though he had told her the opposite of his honest sentiments. Awareness came slowly; recognising he had erred, Darcy stepped back, his heart sinking.

"I should not speak so imprudently to you of my true wishes. I am an impulsive fool, speaking of marriage to a lady I have known for less than a month, whose sister was so injured by a precipitous engagement. My feelings for you have progressed quickly, but you are deservedly cautious. It was ungentlemanly of me to assume...to take liberties last evening."

"It was but a kiss, one which I welcomed," Elizabeth said, giving him a warm look. "If I am cautious, it is that I feared you would think all the Bennet sisters capricious, and I promised myself I would hide my true feelings until I was certain of yours." She waved away his protests. "Yet I have been certain of you—your good character and your agreeable, intelligent nature—since we first walked together and discussed Jane's engagement. I knew I cared for you soon after that and do not wish to injure your feelings when I ask that we wait for any declarations."

Her cheeks pinked, and she gave him a delightfully shy smile. "Much as I may wish to exchange them."

Her expression demanded he kiss her, but Darcy refrained and managed a solemn nod. "I am a patient man and ask only that you allow me the chance to earn your heart and your trust?—"

"You have it."

"—so I may ask you again when you are ready."

"A fortnight."

He stared, a little stunned at her reply. Elizabeth's nose wrinkled, and she looked at him worriedly. "Is that too long to wait? To allow others—our families and neighbours—to be as certain of our mutual feelings as we are?"

Grinning, Darcy took her hand and began leading her back to Longbourn.

"Wait!" cried Elizabeth. "What are you doing?"

"There is no time to waste. We must begin to display our felicity to your family," he replied, smiling, his heart full. "And I have a letter to write to my sister."

Over the coming days, the Bennets' neighbours and the townspeople had far less trouble changing their opinions on Mr Wickham in favour of Mr Darcy. One had left behind debts with promises to pay double on his wedding day; the other had made good on all monies owed and proved himself a worthy friend to the Bennet family.

Mr Bingley's continued residence at Netherfield Park, with an elderly aunt ensconced as hostess, gained him the neighbourhood's favour as well. No one who saw Jane Bennet believed her wounded by the betrayal of her erstwhile suitor, for it was clear to all that a new one—nearly as handsome but more truthful and far wealthier—had claimed her heart. Still, Jane proved as cautious as Elizabeth had advised Darcy, and much to Bingley's distress, the couple's engagement would not come about for another two months.

Even more admired Mr Darcy's steadiness. When he was seen walking and laughing with Elizabeth, it caught the imagination of many, and the respect of all, particularly when their engagement was announced scarcely two weeks after his return to Meryton. Mr Bennet was surprisingly disciplined in every matter of the settlement, and no one was better pleased than Mrs Bennet, who could not only anticipate the fine carriages and jewels that would be enjoyed by her eldest daughters but could now speak with true authority on scandalous rogues. Fortuitously for Darcy, she remained cowed in his company and wary of offending him, sharing her newly found expertise only with her youngest daughters and closest friends.

Darcy himself maintained his humour, as pleased to be proved wrong on most of his first impressions of the Bennets as he was to have some vindication for believing them crass. In late November, Elizabeth and her sister travelled to town, and he had the happy duty of taking Georgiana to call on them at Gracechurch Street. Both Jane and Georgiana had since learnt the full story of Wickham's disgraceful behaviour and wept upon first seeing the other. Those tears soon moved into happier conversations, including a renewal of Jane's agreement to sit for a drawing.

Work on the portrait commenced two days later at Darcy House. While the two young ladies met in the sunny morning room, Darcy guided Elizabeth through his home, showing her the rooms she would claim as mistress in a few weeks. She mentioned a letter from Mary had arrived at Gracechurch Street.

"Apparently, there has been great change at Longbourn." Elizabeth's impish smile matched the mischief in her eyes. It was the dearest expression, and Darcy indulged her by pretending solemnity.

"Yes?"

"It is my mother. Mr Wickham continues as ‘that unmentionable villain', of course, but with the recent arrival of my loquacious cousin, Mr Collins, you may soon have a successor to your former title of ‘that odious man'."

He bit back a smile. "Only one title captures my interest, and that comes less than three weeks from today: Mrs Darcy."

"My mother is occupied deciding whether he is for Mary or Kitty. We are easily forgot."

"I should reward your cousin for his timely visit, but?—"

Elizabeth gave him a grave look. "But then you would be forced to speak to him. I do not advise it."

Her impish smile demanded a kiss, and Darcy spent a long moment fulfilling his duty, until, breathless, they pulled apart and simply held each other.

"So long as we are left alone, I shall be happy," he said, hoarse with emotion.

"As we already are. Let my mother arrange the lives of others. We shall manage our own happiness, together."

The End