If Elizabeth had not been so terrified, she might have found the sight of Lady Catherine standing, mouth agape and moving without making sounds amusing. Indeed, she bore a striking resemblance to a bullfrog. But Elizabeth could find no humour in Lady Catherine’s reaction, because she felt too much like she might become ill.
What had she just done!
She had, in front of her entire family and Lady Catherine de Bourgh, declared herself to be engaged to Mr. Darcy! They had no such agreement! He had proposed, that much was true, but she had rejected him—in a most forthright manner—and they had not talked of it since. She had no idea if Mr. Darcy still wished to marry her, he had not given any indication that his affections were unchanged since their time Kent.
Yet, in that moment, when he had declared himself free, when he had held her eyes begging her to believe him… In that moment, it felt as though they had come to an agreement. In that moment, her heart felt as though she had heard and joyfully accepted his proposal. It wasn’t until that moment that she had been certain of her feelings, but in the moments since, she had not once questioned her determination.
She loved Mr. Darcy. Deeply and irrevocably.
This was not the flash of passion that afflicted girls in an instant. No, this was a love that had been built over time, built through honestly and admitting their deepest faults to each other. She loved him and she would marry him.
If he would have her.
But she had not intended to blurt out a lie! Lady Catherine had simply made her so angry—the things she’d said about her family! Elizabeth did not care if the old woman insulted her, but she could not abide anyone speaking about her family, especially her father, in such terms.
And so, instead of allowing Mr. Darcy to calm his aunt, she had declared them to be engaged! The anger that had filled her moments earlier now begun to fade and was replaced by a growing sense of embarrassment. What had she done? What would Mr. Darcy think of her?
Lady Catherine still had not said a word, but neither had anyone else. Elizabeth was uncertain how much time had passed, nor did she know how much longer the room would remain silent. Making another rash decision, she took Darcy’s hand and started to lead him from the room.
As soon as they exited, she heard Lady Catherine begin shouting again. However, her voice was not the only one. With a surge of affection towards her sister’s fiancé, she heard Mr. Bingley’s voice join Mr. and Mrs. Bennet’s to resist Lady Catherine’s vile claims. Her family could defend themselves. So, she led Mr. Darcy away.
Silently, they made their way to her father’s study. Leading him inside, she released his hand and closed the door softly behind them. Darcy still had not said a word. Her embarrassment continued to grow: Should she apologise? Or perhaps she should swallow her pride and admit to Lady Catherine that they were not, in truth, engaged. She felt sick at that idea. Even though their understanding was not real, Elizabeth was finding she very much liked the idea of being engaged to Mr. Darcy.
He still had not said anything. She examined his face, desperately trying to determine what he was thinking. Darcy, however, looked completely stunned, as if unable to comprehend what had just occurred. He walked slowly to a chair and sat down. She swallowed hard, it was time to set aside her pride and apologise.
“I’m so sorry,” she said softly. Tears began to form in her eyes, and she wiped them furiously. She did not want to cry right now! “Lady Catherine just made me so angry. But that does not excuse the lie that I told…”
“You want to marry me?” Darcy looked up at her. She sat down quickly on the footstool in front of his chair. Hesitantly, she took his hands into hers.
“I wasn’t certain until the moment before I confronted her,” she admitted quietly, examining his hands because she couldn’t bear to look into his eyes. “For weeks, I’ve wrestled with these feelings. For weeks, I’ve thought of nothing but you.” The tears that she wished would stay away sprung to her eyes once more. “Last night, when I saw you across the ball, I couldn’t pretend any longer.”
She looked up, finally able to look into his eyes. She could see the small wrinkles in the corner of his deep brown eyes, and saw that they too were shiny with unshed tears.
“And then you went and saved my sister. Without a thought.” She looked down again and stroked the bruises that still stood out on his strong, rough hands. “I almost told you last night, when you came in,” she admitted, both to herself and to him.
“Am I to understand,” Darcy said slowly, gently pulling one hand free and lifting her face to meet his. She could see the growing smile, the wrinkles in the corners of his eyes becoming more pronounced, his dimples appearing on his cheeks. “That you love me?”
She smiled slowly and nodded.
“Deeply and irrevocably,” Elizabeth said simply. His hand moved from her chin to lightly brush her cheek and she closed her eyes to the touch. “But I made such an assumption. Yes, you proposed, but I said no. I have no right to think that you would…” He placed his first finger lightly on her lips and she stopped talking.
“We’ve gone about this the wrong way,” he said through a wide smile. “Making the announcement before the proposal.”
Elizabeth laughed. “Yes, I suppose we have,” she admitted, her cheeks turning red in embarrassment again.
“Well then,” Darcy said, dropping from the chair onto one knee. “I suppose we had better remedy that.”
Elizabeth saw him and her heart stopped. Her breath caught in her throat as she realised what he was about to say. She had guessed how it would be, but to have it actually happen was more than she imagined. Tears that she had been attempting to stifle began to run freely down her cheeks.
“Miss Elizabeth Bennet,” Darcy said slowly, drawing out her name. “Never have I encountered a more beautiful, fascinating, intelligent, clever, witty, enticing and enamouring woman in my life. From the moment I met you, I found myself falling in love. In the last months, as you have helped me become a better man, I have found that I daily discover new depths of love. You must know how ardently I love and admire you.” His voice cracked slightly, and he cleared his throat. “You have captured my heart and soul. Please, turn my misery to joy and say that you will marry me.”
This speech was more than Elizabeth had ever heard him say in one breath. To hear his heart in her ears was a gift she would forever treasure. Her tears continued to flow down her face, but no trace of sadness or anger was present within her for there was no room amid her joy.
“Yes,” she answered throatily. “I will marry you.”