Chapter 10

CHAPTER 10

How strange this afternoon had been. Darcy could hardly believe what had transpired. He felt as though he had been dragged across fields by a team of wild horses, bumping here and bouncing there, never quite knowing what would strike him next. His emotions had run the gamut from the depths of despair to such Elysian heights as he could scarcely comprehend, sometimes within seconds of each other.

But no matter. At the end, bruised and battered though he might be, he had emerged victorious. The lady was won. She had agreed to be his wife.

She had, to be fair, requested a long engagement, to be quite certain of her choice, but she had not demanded it be kept secret. It was, in her words, time for confirmation rather than for reflection. Considering how close she had been to refusing him, he was more than willing to agree.

For how long they remained there, on those ancient fallen stones from so many centuries before, he could never say. They sat there, hand in hand, talking of everything and nothing. His favourite childhood games; her skinned knees when she fell out of a tree; his early abhorrence of Latin, to be replaced by a grudging admiration and then genuine appreciation of the language; her rather unpopular opinions on Cowper and her secret attempts at learning to waltz, as she had been shown by the French seamstress who now lived in Meryton.

They talked and held hands, and twice—twice!—kissed again. After that first, short, tentative peck, lips barely brushing lips, there came something more dangerous that threatened to overwhelm them both in the most delicious ways. They both pulled back, quite alarmed, at first, before making another attempt, with slightly more self-control.

Now, while there were still so many words and kisses still to be exchanged, the sky was darkening, and they must return to the real world, so distant from this idyllic glen they had discovered.

"Shall I walk you back to the parsonage?" Darcy asked, reluctance in every syllable. "You will be missed. I would not have Mrs Collins worried."

His beloved Elizabeth shook her head, a ripple of joy in the growing darkness. "They will all still be at Rosings, for your aunt's dinners often last well past sunset."

Yes. Of course. How could he have forgotten.

"Perhaps we can both walk there," she continued. "We should… It would be best to inform them all at once, I believe. It will prevent Mr Collins from making assumptions."

Ah yes, the odious parson. It would not surprise Darcy to hear the man put about rumours that their engagement was a necessity.

"Then let us wander thither. Will you allow me to make the announcement? I fear my aunt's reaction will not be positive."

He chuckled, and she giggled, and thus they continued the walk to Rosings, hand holding hand, and laughing every step of the way.

"Mr Darcy and Miss Bennet," the footman intoned, before stepping aside to allow them both entrance into the rather grandiose parlour that Darcy's aunt chose to use after dinner. His cousin Anne was playing some dismal piece at the pianoforte in the corner, whilst Richard sat between Mrs and Mr Collins, looking rather desperate for something interesting to say. Across from them, Lady Catherine scowled at the room, looking up quite sharply at their entrance.

"Darcy! I dare say, I have been asking after you these last three hours. And what is this? Miss Bennet? Dressed like that? I was informed you were ill. A headache, or something of the ilk. Rather ordinary, is it not? Why are you here?"

She glared at them again, before repeating herself.

"Why are you here with my nephew?" Her eyes narrowed. Darcy prepared for battle.

"Madam," he bowed to his aunt. "Forgive my late arrival. I have been otherwise engaged this afternoon."

He dared to glance at Elizabeth from the corner of his eyes. Her returning wink suggested that she enjoyed his little joke, even if no one else in the room quite understood it. Yet.

"I have an announcement to make," he went on. "I am most delighted to inform you all that?—"

At that moment, a great noise came from the pianoforte, where the raised lid suddenly came crashing down, causing Anne to cry out in alarm and all those seated to leap from their chairs and rush to her aid.

And Darcy and Elizabeth both, to the consternation of everybody in the room, burst out laughing.

~*~

Finis