Darcy could not imagine a more perfect afternoon; Bingley and Jane had been more than happy to detour their walk and Mary and Kitty had not protested too much either. While he and Elizabeth had climbed over, examined, speculated and planned to dig into the supposed burial mounds of those ancient Britons, the rest had sat in the grass enjoying the sunshine and listening to Mary read from her copy of Fordyce’s Sermons.
Darcy did not think it was too bold to think they enjoyed the sun more than the reading. Mary seemed quite taken with her tome, although Darcy had no idea why.
When he and Elizabeth had finally finished their explorations, they found Kitty fast asleep in the green while Mary held Bingley and Jane as prisoners with her words.
Walking up, Darcy heard Mary reading: “We consider the general run of Novels as utterly unfit for you. Instruction they convey none. They paint scenes of pleasure and passion altogether improper for you to behold, even with the mind's eye.”
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Elizabeth exhale sharply in annoyance. “He has much to say on the libertine nature of novels,” she said dryly. “And yet, I wonder if more young women would heed his words if he were to emulate the style and wit of some of those detestable texts.”
“Careful, Miss Elizabeth,” Darcy replied, trying to keep his laugh quiet so as to not attract Mary’s attention. “I fear you border upon blasphemy.”
“It is kind of you to worry for my immortal soul, Mr. Darcy,” Elizabeth said with a laugh—one she did not care to mute. “But I trust a power higher than even Mr. Fordyce.”
“Lizzy!” Jane called out, seeing their approach. Despite her unfailing kindness towards her sisters—especially Mary—Darcy could not help but notice the note of relief in her voice. It seemed as though Mary’s captive audience was ready to break free from their bonds.
“I hope you have enjoyed yourselves,” Elizabeth said, a mischievous twinkle in her eye. Darcy noticed with satisfaction that he was beginning to recognise when she was teasing.
“We have nearly finished this chapter,” Mary said, placing a bookmark and gently closing the book. “I shall finish it when next it is my turn to read in the evening.”
Darcy glanced at Bingley and saw, with amusement, the look of horror upon his friend’s face. It was one he understood, even shared! He desired to share Elizabeth’s company, but he was not sure even her enjoyable companionship was worth the pain of that book. He made a note to himself to ask, for both his sake and his friend’s, when was Mary’s next appointment to read.
“We shall look forward to that,” Jane said kindly. Darcy was amazed she sounded so sincere. His friend had chosen a kind and patient woman—he doubted there was another such as Jane in all the world.
“Shall we begin toward home?” Elizabeth asked, her hand covering a yawn. “I’m afraid our late night has caught up with me. I am glad we have walked, for if we had use of horses or a carriage, I would be asleep in an instant!”
“Now, Miss Elizabeth,” Bingley said with a smile, standing up and brushing the grass from his trousers. “What would be wrong with that?”
“Nothing,” Elizabeth replied with a laugh. She bent down to gently shake Kitty awake. “But I would fall off a horse or out of a carriage, and I am not sure I possess the strength of character to rise above such humiliation.”
“Then let us be off at once,” Bingley laughed along. “For I cannot imagine a worse fate than that which you describe!”
A few moments later, the group was once again making their way towards Longbourn. This time, Darcy and Elizabeth took the lead—Elizabeth being far more knowledgeable than any of her sisters as to the quickest route back to the manor house. Bingley and Jane walked with Kitty, chatting amiably, while Mary brought up the rear. Mary seemed not to mind being left out of the conversation. Instead, she stared at the horizon and was clearly lost in her own thoughts.
“I like Mary,” Darcy said suddenly. Elizabeth missed a step, clearly surprised at his declaration, and Darcy felt the need to elaborate. “Of your younger sisters, she’s by far the most clever and interesting.”
“In that there is no doubt,” Elizabeth agreed. “I only wish that she put more of her effort into learning the social interactions that come so naturally to Kitty and Lydia. I keep hoping the three of them will learn things from each other: Lydia can teach charisma, Kitty, loyalty, and Mary, intellect.” Darcy noticed, for some reason, Elizabeth blushed. “But perhaps I should concern myself with loving my sisters as they are, with all their faults, instead of wishing them to be different.”
Darcy nodded, understanding both her points.
“There is great joy in being loved for who you are,” he agreed. “But there is also joy in someone knowing you can be better.” He swallowed hard, wondering if he should continue his thought. They walked a few steps, and he started once more. “In fact…”
But he could not finish, his courage failing him at the last moment.
“In fact…?” Elizabeth prompted him, clearly curious as to what he was going to say.
Darcy walked a few more paces, cleared his throat and knotted his hands behind his back before his courage had returned enough for him to continue.
“In fact,” he said quietly. “That is what I have observed in our relationship. I know I have become a better man because you showed me that I could be.” He felt his cheeks flush crimson. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Elizabeth look utterly confused.
“You flatter me once more, Mr. Darcy,” she said. “For I cannot bring to memory any such time when I have accorded you with advice to better yourself.”
“Well,” he laughed nervously. “Your advice was not as such. But there was a time when you illuminated my failings as a man.” This was dangerous territory. Darcy did not want to bring up his failed proposal. He did not wish to dredge up those painful thoughts and memories. And yet, from that pain, he knew he had grown. He knew that he had become a person that could be worthy of her. She must know her impact upon him.
“That illumination showed me the path towards betterment,” he finished at last. “And for that I am grateful.”
A dawning look of realisation bloomed across Elizabeth’s face.
“You flatter and paint over my own failings,” she said, embarrassed. “For someone who bears the character which you describe would find a way to illuminate such things without the bite and sting of cruel words.”
They walked on. Darcy realised that this was the first time they had discussed his proposal since it had happened. It had not been his intention to bring this subject to light, but in doing so, he realised that nothing in Elizabeth’s tone or reaction bore the disdain and disgust she had all those weeks ago.
“I’m sorry,” she said quietly, bringing him out of his head and back to the conversation. “I was unkind, unfair and completely wrong about you. In every way imaginable. Please, forgive me.”
Her words hit him like heavy rocks, jarring his senses. Nothing in her choice of words had said she loved him—not outright. But with each syllable, his certainty of her affection built. By the time she came to the end of her sentence, he was so overwhelmed by the sudden flood of emotion, he felt a lump in his throat. He swallowed hard, pushing it down.
“There is nothing to forgive,” he said croakily. “But if my forgiveness will ease your mind, know it is yours. Fully and completely.”
“Thank you,” she said softly.
They continued to walk, but neither one of them spoke again. The happiness which had begun to flood him was richer and more vibrant than anything he had yet experienced. The ecstasy of his growing certainty of her affection had an intoxicating impact: an impulsive drive told him he should propose again—now, without a moment to lose! His exhaustion was close to listening to that drive. But, for now, his reason continued to win out.
He would propose again. But he would do it right. He would do it in a manner that in no way resembled his first. His first proposal had been the result of desperation and confusion. His sense was overwhelmed and he had said everything wrong. He was again overwhelmed—not with desperation and confusion, but with joy and a desire to secure his future. Better things to be overcome with but still not how he wanted to propose.
“Whose carriage is that?” Elizabeth asked suddenly, stopping to stare.
Darcy had not noticed they had drawn so near the house, but following her gaze, he saw to what she was referring. Parked in front of the house was a smart little barouche, top down to enjoy the sunshine, with a team of four identical, powerful, black horses pawing the ground impatiently. His heart immediately sank as he took in the vehicle.
“They do not seem to be here for a long visit,” Elizabeth continued, a slight frown forming on her forehead. “Or else their horses would be in our stables.”
“I think I know who it is,” he said dejectedly. Even at this distance, he recognised the livery.
“Lizzy, who is that?” Kitty asked as she, Jane and Bingley drew near. “No one in the county has a carriage like that!”
“Mr. Darcy?” Elizabeth asked, turning to him, an eyebrow raised in question.
“Miss Elizabeth, Charles,” he said with a sigh. “I believe you are familiar with my aunt, Lady Catherine de Bourgh?”
“Lady Catherine?” Elizabeth gasped. “Here? Whatever could she want?” Darcy was saddened to see that the colour had drained from Elizabeth’s face. His aunt often had that effect on people.
“I have no idea,” he replied, his happiness seeping out and being replaced by dread. “But, if I may, could we quicken our pace? I do not know how long my aunt has been waiting, but suffice it to say that no wait is short enough for her liking.”
“Of course,” Jane said at once, striding forward while motioning Kitty and Mary to follow.
Whatever had pulled his aunt from Kent, whatever had brought her to Hertfordshire and to Longbourn… Darcy knew it could not be good.
“My patience grows thin, Mrs. Bennet!” Darcy could hear his aunt’s complaints before they even opened the front door. “I demand an audience with your daughter, Elizabeth Bennet, and I shall not be satisfied until she is brought to me! And the longer I am forced to wait, the more displeased I shall become!” Darcy groaned to himself.
“As we said before,” they could hear Mrs. Bennet’s strained voice as well. “She is out enjoying the sun in the company of her sisters, and her eldest sister’s betrothed and his friend. I did mention that, did I not, my Jane engaged only…”
“Yes,” Lady Catherine cut in. “I know. And this ‘friend’ to whom you refer is none other than my nephew! The idea…” She sounded wounded. “Now where is this chit of a daughter?”
Darcy ground his teeth together in anger, his aunt had no right to speak of Elizabeth in such a manner!
“Now, Lady Catherine,” Mr. Bennet’s voice entered the conversation. He sounded upset at Lady Catherine’s language, but what he was going to say was lost because at that moment, Darcy pushed open the sitting room door and strode into the room.
“Aunt,” he said through gritted teeth. “May I ask what you are doing here?”
He stood tall and proud, his hands clasped tightly behind his back. He felt proud that his words had come out so polite, for he was shaking with anger. Lady Catherine whirled toward him, evidently surprised at his entrance. However, his aunt’s eyes quickly darted past him and settled behind him. He turned his head slightly to confirm what had captured her gaze: Elizabeth. He moved between her and his aunt.
“So the rumours are true,” Lady Catherine spit. “When I first arrived in this ramshackle estate, I had hoped this to be a case of mistaken identity.”
“Rumours?” Darcy asked, confused. “What rumours?”
“I wrote to your dear sister some days ago, asking her how she fared,” Lady Catherine began to explain. She paced back and forth in tiny steps. Once able, she began to stare down Elizabeth once more. “You know how I dote upon her, Fitzwilliam.”
“Yes,” Darcy said, waiting for his aunt to continue her tale.
“I was heartened to learn that she is healthy and well. But imagine my shock, my horror, at learning that she hoped that her brother—” She paused and shot an accusatory look at Darcy. He did not respond, and instead he waited for her to continue. “—Would soon be even happier than she, that he would soon be engaged!”
Darcy’s heart began to sink once more. He had never sworn Georgiana to secrecy, but he had also not thought she would share his plans. Especially not with Aunt Catherine!
“And not—” Lady Catherine continued, puffing up with rage. “To my daughter, Anne, as is your duty, but to this jumped-up girl with no name! Knowing you are a man of your word, a man who honours the agreements of his family, I set out at once to learn the truth.”
“If it is Mr. Darcy’s promise and duty to marry your daughter,” Elizabeth’s voice emerged behind him and Darcy suppressed the urge to whip his head around to watch her stand up to his aunt. “Then you should have no concern that he would forgo such a promise.”
Darcy listened to her speak and thought he heard a note of sadness in her words. Was he imagining what he wanted to hear?
“Their engagement has been planned since their infancy!” Lady Catherine snapped instantly.
“Then you should have no concern that he has made an offer to me,” Elizabeth said, strength radiating from her words. Darcy could feel the eyes of everyone in the room upon her, upon him. No one knew of his intentions, no one knew of his interest save Elizabeth and Charles. And perhaps Jane. But no one could have expected this.
“However, if there is no engagement in place,” Elizabeth continued, not taking her eyes from Darcy. “Then I believe it is up to Mr. Darcy to decide whom he wishes to marry.” At that moment, Darcy felt he might burst from loving Elizabeth. Her strength in the face of someone like Lady Catherine was awe-inspiring.
“Of course, you would say that! You are a girl whose father can barely be called a gentleman.” Lady Catherine’s insults visibly upset everyone in the room. “You have no knowledge of the way marriage works in our circle! You are but a selfish girl who is attempting to snatch away a rich man who is promised to another!”
“The promise to which you refer was never made by me,” Darcy said quietly, understanding everything. “You speak of nothing more than the fleeting dreams of sisters separated by death.”
He turned to Elizabeth and hungrily found her eyes. “There is no engagement,” he said firmly, begging her to believe him.
“You would ignore your dead mother’s wishes?” Lady Catherine asked haughtily. Elizabeth held his eyes, her own searching his for some answer to a question he did not know. “I demand to know!” Lady Catherine seemed to swell with built up rage. Darcy had never seen her in such a state. “Tell me at once that you are not engaged!”
Elizabeth eyes stopped moving, instead settling upon his. For a moment, Darcy lost awareness of anything else surrounding him, he could only see Elizabeth. He saw her give a small smile and then, she tore her eyes away from his. Stepping around him, she stood before Lady Catherine and squared her shoulders.
“We are engaged,” she said simply. “Mr. Darcy and I are to be married.”