Chapter 14

Fourteen

The trepidation Elizabeth felt when Mr Darcy approached her at the start of the assembly had yet to fade by the time their dance began. He had sought her out almost as soon as he arrived, and she was not sure what to make of it. She was resolved to speak to him of Lydia and Wickham, feeling certain it was important for them to acknowledge the terrible morning in Lambton.

Standing across from him, she both wanted to blurt out her words—not that she knew exactly what to say—and keep them to herself forever. Her palms were clammy in her gloves, and it was all she could do to stay upright and follow the steps of the dance.

It would help if I felt easier in my appearance, she thought, gently rolling her neck from side to side. She had spent the day trying to avoid her mother, who persisted in forcing her finer accoutrements on Elizabeth.

"You are a very pretty girl, but I shall make you even lovelier. Certain gentlemen, one in particular, will be very glad, and you never know where that might lead!" Mrs Bennet had said, accompanying the words with a wink that almost made Elizabeth scream.

While she understood her mother's impulses were for the good—assuming as she did that Mrs Bennet wanted to see her daughter happily settled and not just married to a rich man—the lack of subtlety in her actions was vexing. Elizabeth wished they had a different sort of relationship, one in which she felt comfortable confiding in her mother, or in which Mrs Bennet would ask her openly about her feelings for Mr Darcy. Since they did not, Elizabeth was destined to remain irritated with her mother.

In the end, Elizabeth had agreed to add lace to the neck of her gown and wear a pair of earrings that she found too heavy and showy.

After exchanging a few pleasantries, she and Mr Darcy were silent as they moved through the patterns. As much as possible, she kept her eyes on him, not wanting even to blink and miss a second of seeing him. Her mouth grew increasingly dry as she talked herself into being bold.

If only the past could be set aside! If only we had not been so foolish last year—him so prideful, me so unwilling to reconsider my first impression of him. We might be standing here as an engaged or married couple, and I would not have to hide how desperately I love him.

Even as she opened her mouth to speak, she was not certain what words would come out.

"I was writing to my aunt Gardiner lately, and it brought to mind a memory from when we were in Derbyshire." She laughed awkwardly. "I have this fantasy that she and my uncle will decide to return to Lambton. I know my aunt did not see all the old friends she wanted to, and there were one or two nearby sights she hoped to show us. In my imagination, they invite me to go with them."

Again she laughed, although what she really wanted to do was pinch herself for making such a ridiculous speech. Praising Derbyshire to him? What would he think? She supposed her mind thought it was a good way to approach the topic of Lydia and Wickham, but in execution, it was badly done. The way Mr Darcy gaped at her was her proof. She could not look at him, and kept her eyes on his shoulder, so strong and solid looking, and dreamt of resting her head on it, his warmth enveloping her at the same time his arms did. The dance separated them, and it was only when they were reunited that he spoke, stammering the first words.

"W-what…? Pardon me, but I am not sure I heard you correctly. You would wish to return to Derbyshire?"

He sounded surprised—stunned, really—and she met his eyes, swallowing heavily against the tightness in her throat. Her head swam. Something noteworthy was transpiring, but what?

"Of course. The ending might have been distressing, but before that, I…"

"You?"

"I believe the short period I spent there was the most illuminating, wonderful time of my life. That it ended so abruptly will always be one of the—" She stopped, afraid of going too far, of exposing herself fully to Mr Darcy. She had meant to end by thanking him for keeping the secret about Lydia's elopement and for being kind to her that morning, but she had ended up almost confessing that she would always regret what had happened to them.

Mr Darcy continued to stare at her, even as the steps separated them, and no force on Earth could have torn Elizabeth's eyes from him. Coming together again, he held out his hand, and without hesitation, she placed hers in it and willingly permitted him to pull her away.

Once in the corridor, Darcy stopped. Looking into her upturned face, he tried several times to speak but was unsuccessful. In the dim light, he saw that her cheeks were deep pink, and her expression was a mix of trepidation and—if he was correct—hope. His mouth was dry, and it made his voice raspy when he finally spoke.

"Please, finish what you were saying."

She averted her gaze. "Mr Darcy?—"

"Please," he begged.

"I…I will always look back on that time with a great deal of fondness and regret that it was interrupted, that Lydia's actions meant I could not remain longer and…" Her voice trailed off, and she shrugged.

Was this different from what she had said in September, the words that had convinced him she would not forgive him for Wickham running off with her sister? Darcy wanted to tear his hair out, because he did not know. Then it occurred to him; there was an easy way to resolve his confusion.

"During the walk we took with Bingley and Miss Bennet, soon after he and I returned, you said you regretted that your distressing news represented an end ." Her eyes met his. "What exactly did you mean? What ended?"

"Our holiday, the time we had together." She made a noise of frustration and seemed to brace herself before continuing. "I wanted to stay longer. Meeting you again was an opportunity to know you properly, to-to show you I understood how horribly I had misjudged you, and then Lydia eloped. That was bad enough, but that it was with that man! I do not blame you. It is only natural that you would not want to connect yourself to anyone named Bennet when we are forced to claim him as?—"

" I blame myself," he interjected. "I thought you did too, for not warning people about him. It does not matter to me that he is your brother-in-law. I wish I could have prevented their marriage, but it was unavoidable." Miss Lydia, as she was then, had refused to leave Wickham.

"But you said—oh, I cannot recall your exact words, but I understood you meant that you had completely given up any thought that you and I might?—"

"Elizabeth, I assure you that for a man who knows what it is to truly, deeply love a lady, nothing— nothing —would prevent him from being with her. If it was what she wanted also."

He leant forward, peering at her, desperate for a signal that he should go on. They stared at each other for as long as it took his heart to thud against his ribs a dozen times. Almost without volition, they reached for the other at the same time, his fingers touching hers halfway in the space between them. He grasped her hand.

"Dare I believe you feel as I do? My wishes— No, I ought to speak more plainly than that. I fear miscommunication has stolen precious time from us. I love you, Elizabeth Bennet, more even than I did last spring. By telling me the faults you saw in my character, you humbled me and showed me how to be a better man. That you did says a great deal about you, all of it admirable."

She laughed and wiped at a tear that slowly ran down her cheek. "You call it admirable that I unjustly abused you?"

"That you defended your sister and family and explained how ungentlemanly my behaviour had become, yes. Then, when we met again in the summer, I saw at once that you believed what I wrote to you. Despite every reason you had to despise me, you were willing to meet again as friends. You are a remarkable woman, and I admire you, I respect you, esteem, adore?—"

Her laughter and a hand on his arm silenced him. "I believe you have a question to ask me, sir. I assure you, my response will be very different from what it was at Easter. Quite the opposite, in fact."

It was difficult to speak through the broad grin which stretched his mouth to a greater extent than it had ever had cause to do before. His eyes filled with tears of joy, ones matching hers. "Will you be my wife? I will endeavour to be the husband you deserve every day, every hour of our lives."

"Yes, oh, yes, I will. You are the only man in the world I could possibly marry."

Darcy was not so lost to reason as to forget they were in a public assembly room; it was only that which stopped him from doing as he wished and sweeping her into his arms and kissing her soundly. Instead, he drew both her hands to his mouth and pressed his lips to them over and over again.

"I do love you, very dearly. I knew it the morning I received Jane's letters, and I have been telling myself for weeks that, at the exact moment I realised you were the only man I would ever want to marry, any possibility of our union vanished. I believe I always admired you for your intelligence, even when I assured myself my dislike was implacable. All I wanted was a better understanding of your true character. Once I had that, I was quite lost."

Darcy rested his forehead against hers and took a deep breath. "I wish we could remain apart from everyone else forever, but someone is sure to miss you soon, if they have not already. We must return."

"I know we should, but I do not want to."

"May I speak to your father tomorrow?"

She nodded. After a long look into each other's eyes, they returned to the ballroom.

The rest of the night was spent in each other's company, his darling Elizabeth refusing the next request for a set. Miss Bennet saw them and briefly left her partner to come to them.

"You are not dancing, Lizzy. Is all well?" Her eyes flickered to him and back to her sister in a manner that suggested she was asking another question.

"Everything is exactly as it should be. Perfectly perfect in all ways," Elizabeth said.

Miss Bennet kissed Elizabeth's cheek, smiled at him, and returned to the dance.

Later in the evening, Mrs Bennet and Mrs Goulding walked by. Mrs Goulding smiled, and Mrs Bennet looked smug, but neither said anything.

Elizabeth sighed. "I do not know if you have noticed anything odd about my mother's behaviour of late."

"And Mrs Goulding and Mrs Philips."

She chuckled. "A trio of conspirators. My behaviour must have betrayed my feelings for you to her. Despite my lack of encouragement, she and the others have been attempting to convince me that I long to be married and that you would make a good husband."

"And they informed me in many different ways that you were the very best of ladies and I could not do better than to make you my wife. I hardly needed them to tell me."

"Nor did I need them to point out your excellence. I almost wished I could confide in my mother, but I believe if I had, she would only have adopted more drastic measures. I imagine her dragging me to Netherfield by my ear and giving you a stern lecture until you agreed that Lydia's marriage was a ridiculous reason to keep us apart and refusing to leave until you had proposed."

He laughed. "I am glad it did not come to that, though she would not have been wrong. For my part, I think it is nonsensical that your sister's marriage should mean we suffer. Yet, I would never have blamed you if you felt it did."

"Let us not talk about Lydia and her mistakes. I consider her choice of husband the most grievous one she has ever made. We cannot celebrate our understanding openly tonight, but nevertheless, we are only to think about that which makes us happy."

"As you say, my love. As for your mother and her friends, let them believe our union was all their doing. I only care that we have found our way together. This time, nothing will come between us."