They had come to a stop within a few paces of the end of the walk, and Elizabeth drew in a shallow breath, conscious of the swirling of her insides and the heat upon her face, but determined not to look away or stall in her confession.
“You did me a great honour but two weeks ago to this very day. You laid before me your heart and offered me your hand, and I rejected them both soundly and, moreover, with false accusation. I have come to discover how in error I was, that you are the best of men.” Elizabeth swallowed quickly, feeling her heart swell even as she quailed at what she was about to say. “In short, Sir, I have come to learn that I regret my misunderstanding of your character, and further that I had neither the foresight nor the intelligence to realise that I might also regret the loss of your affection.”
His eyes were fixed upon hers, and she found it more and more difficult to formulate the words. “In truth, Mr Darcy, I found myself reluctant to leave your company without at least expressing, in some small way, a change in my feelings towards you. The gesture’s purpose was to convey this without the need for words.” She stopped and laughed tremulously. “And here I am, speaking endlessly! Forgive me, but you would ask the question. I have answered you with full honesty, for I think you deserve no less in the circumstances.”
Having concluded this speech, she finally lowered her gaze, feeling all the embarrassment of her confession and the onslaught of emotion that welled behind her eyes.
Before a response could be made, however, the ominous rumblings in the heavens escalated into a sudden ricochet of thunder that caused Elizabeth to jump, and she returned his concerned look with a short laugh.
“Forgive me, Sir. I assure you I am usually a little sturdier of backbone.”
He nodded, but before either of them could resume their conversation, a streak of lightning flashed across the sky followed rapidly by another thunderous roar and isolated drops of rain began to fall, thudding heavily as they struck the leaves overhead and landed before their feet on the path.
Throwing a quick glance heavenwards, Darcy said nothing, taking Elizabeth’s hand in a firm grasp and walking swiftly forward. They had been but steps from the garden wall that bounded the end house of Brock Street, but as they turned the corner towards the side door, Darcy stopped suddenly, and perforce Elizabeth did too. The carriage was now pulled up there and, rather than head towards more conventional shelter, he turned and drew her under the boughs of the tree that she had hidden behind only the day before.
It was as sturdy a specimen as she recalled, with a solid trunk and dense foliage; he had chosen well, for the rain, which now fell in earnest, could not penetrate its thickness and they were well sheltered for the time being, so much so that the gentleman took the opportunity to rest the unused umbrella securely against an outcrop of bark.
They stood in silence for a moment, and Elizabeth could not help but recall how she had felt the last time she had used this tree as her protector. Though the air had been cleared between them, she was conscious of the agitation within her breast that remained, due no doubt to her having been in the midst of explaining her rather improper action. To be certain, her heart pounded fit to burst, and it was only as her gaze moved across the fields towards Marlborough Buildings, where both the carriage and the landaulet could now be seen pulling up outside, that she became aware of the fact that her hand remained in Mr Darcy’s grasp.
As soon as this realisation came to pass, however, she could think of little else. Daring not to move a muscle, she allowed it to rest there, savouring the warmth of it. Conscious of the heat rising in her neck as she allowed the sensation of being touched by him to wash over her, she closed her eyes, never wanting the moment to end. How long she might have stood thus, the sound of the rain beating on the leaves in competition with that of her own heartbeat, she knew not, but her eyes flew open instantly upon hearing her name spoken softly.
“Elizabeth…”
Swallowing quickly, she looked up at Mr Darcy and her breath caught in her throat. They were standing very close, for though their shelter was adequate as trees go, in order to protect two persons they had need of being relatively near, and she was quite taken with how easy this made it for her to study his features at close range. His addressing her solely by her name did not strike her as at all odd at that moment, nor did the fact that he had yet to release her hand. His intense stare caused her insides to make their customary swoop, and she lowered her gaze.
“Elizabeth…” Her name had been whispered so gently it was as if the breeze that lightly stirred their hair had breathed it. “Look at me.”
Raising her head, she felt a surge of hope flow through her as she met his gaze. The look in his eyes was full of emotion, and taking both her hands in his he stared at her for a moment, before continuing, “Are you saying what I think you are saying?”
She let out a small laugh, sniffed to clear the threat of tears, and then laughed again. “I do not know. What is it that you think I am saying?”
He smiled down at her, and her heart swelled within her. “You are not helping me.”
“I would not have you think that. I believe you understand me very well, Sir.”
He nodded, never removing his gaze from hers, and the hold upon her hands tightened momentarily. “Then may I assume, from my understanding, that your feelings towards me are somewhat altered from what they were two weeks past?”
Elizabeth nodded quickly, and he smiled again, a gesture that she could not help responding to with one of her own.
“Are they-” he paused and swallowed visibly, and it struck her suddenly just how difficult he found this. “Are they – do you – can I dare to chance that they are altered sufficiently to allow me to hope?” He stopped and looked down for a moment, still retaining his grasp upon her hands. “Forgive me.” He raised his head and met her gaze once more. “I do not wish to pressure you, but in order to fully comprehend your meaning, I must be specific. I would not have further misunderstanding between us. Do you merely regard me in better favour, or may I hope that one day there may be – more?”
Conscious that such a speech must have cost him dear, Elizabeth hesitated not in responding. “You may find the alteration in my feelings to be the work of a moment, but I assure you that I do more than regard you with greater esteem, Sir. I meant what I said: I regret the outcome of the other Sunday in all and every aspect.”
There was a pause as he appeared to assimilate these words, and then a smile graced his face the like of which she had never seen, and unable to stop herself she smiled in return. Before she could contemplate this further, however, he spoke in earnest.
“Then, Elizabeth –” he stopped and released one of her hands, before raising his own to cup the side of her face, his gaze intent upon her. “Permit me to tell you once more how much I love you.” He hesitated for the briefest moment and drew in a deep breath. “May I ask you again? Will you – would you do me the honour of becoming my wife? I promise to hold you in the dearest of affections for the length of our lives. I will have you want for nothing. Please say that you will accept my hand.”
Touched beyond measure by his words, Elizabeth gulped back the rise of tears that once more threatened, albeit for a different reason. Nodding her head quickly, as speech was quite beyond her at the moment, she gave a watery laugh, but sobered immediately upon seeing the intensity of his expression as he stared at her.
“You do? You accept?”
She nodded again, and this time she smiled before raising her own hand to his face and touching it gently. “I most assuredly do, Sir. You do me great honour.”
“Promise me you are happy with your decision; that I have not coerced you in any way; we are but two weeks from that awful day, and-”
Shaking her head, Elizabeth placed a finger gently to his lips, feeling all the boldness of her action, but relishing in her right to do so. “I accept your offer, Mr Darcy, for one reason alone: I have fallen in love with you, and nothing would make me happier than to become your wife.”
If she had sought any other reward, nothing could have been more pleasing to Elizabeth than the expression that spread across the gentleman’s countenance at that moment, but she had little time upon which to savour the moment, for he brought her close and leaning down placed a kiss upon her lips.
He drew back almost instantly, and they stared at each other, speaking no words, and when he leaned down once more she met him half way, her eyes closing as she savoured the feel of his mouth upon hers, acknowledging the solidity of his body as she pressed ever closer to him and the silkiness of his hair as she allowed herself the privilege of running her fingers through it.
When he released her lips, she swayed a little, so close had she been standing to him, and he steadied her before frowning suddenly. “You are cold.”
It was true; since the rain had come, the temperature had dropped significantly, but Elizabeth could not care less, for she was perfectly satisfied by the warmth of being close to him. She was tempted to share this, but before she could speak such intimate thoughts, he had shrugged out of his coat and held it out to her, and soon she was warmly encased in it.
It smelt faintly of his cologne, and she hugged it to herself, unable to prevent a wide smile from forming.
“But now you will be cold.”
Darcy shook his head. “No – no, I am not.” He drew her close again, and she leaned her head upon his chest for a moment.
“I had a dream about you.” Elizabeth felt him start as she said these words, and she quickly raised her head to look up at him.
“Please tell me it was not a nightmare.”
Smiling, she shook her head. “Perhaps I did not fully appreciate its content at the time, but I have to admit I much prefer the reality.”
He stared at her with narrowed eyes for a moment. “Am I permitted to know what the dream was about?”
Elizabeth’s smile widened for a moment, and then she shook her head. “No. I shall do better than that. I shall show you.” She placed her arms about his neck, drawing his head down and pressing her lips against his. For a second he laughed, but as her eyes closed upon the sight of his dear face, he returned the pressure of her mouth, giving her a kiss that would linger far longer than any dream.
~o0o~
Georgiana had repaired to the drawing room as soon as she had divested herself of her outdoor garments, and as she awaited her cousin, she hurried to the windows that fronted onto Brock Street, leaning up against the pane and straining her eyes against the rain that now fell in heavy sweeps across the pavement. Where was her brother? Had he had time to take shelter, for there was no sign of him coming towards the house from the Circus… At the sound of the door opening, she straightened up, glancing over her shoulder as her cousin entered the room.
“Do not worry, Georgie,” the Colonel smiled at her as he crossed to the console table that stood between the two full length windows at the opposite end of the room. “Darcy has ample common sense. He will have taken shelter.”
Georgiana sighed and walked over to the couch in front of the fireplace and picked up a book in an attempt to occupy herself until her brother reappeared, though she doubted she would pay it any mind, for her cousin’s suggestion – that Darcy intended to talk further with Miss Elizabeth Bennet – had only heightened her anticipation.
She was forestalled, however, by the Colonel letting out an exclamation, and she hurried to his side where he stood at the windows that looked out over the walled garden and to the fields beyond.
“What is it? Is aught amiss?” she peered out into the garden, but could see nothing untoward. Just then, however, her eye was caught by a movement, and her gaze was drawn to where she now perceived her cousin also appeared to be looking. “Oh!”
Georgiana stared speechlessly at the sight that she beheld. Her brother was under the tree at the edge of the Crescent Fields – and he was not alone. Miss Elizabeth Bennet, who appeared to be wearing his coat, was wrapped in his embrace, and if she were not mistaken… here she leaned forward to see a little more clearly, the rain acting as a barrier somewhat, and then gasped, her hand flying to her mouth - they were kissing!
The sound of Georgiana’s intake of breath was sufficient to draw the Colonel’s attention at last, and seeing her wide eyes, hand still clasped to her mouth, he snapped to attention and swiftly placed his own hand across her eyes.
“I think that is sufficient, young one.” He placed an arm across her shoulders and with his hand still resting gently over her eyes, steered her away from the window. “Go – read your book.”
She walked away a few paces and the Colonel was about to turn back and check how things were progressing outside, when suddenly she flew back across the room, throwing herself into his arms and hugging him tightly.
“I am so happy for him, Richard! So happy for them.”
The Colonel grunted. “You think that this is a good sign, then, do you?” He nodded his head towards the window as Georgiana released him and stepped back, wiping away a solitary tear from her cheek. Her eyes were shining and a wide smile had spread over her features, and he could not help but reciprocate.
“I am sure they will join us directly. Go. Find something to amuse yourself with until then.”
Georgiana sighed happily, nodded and resumed her search for a book that might hold her attention, a futile practice, as all she could think of was the happiness of her brother and the fact that she was certain Miss Elizabeth Bennet was to become the sister she had always longed for.
The Colonel, meanwhile, turned back to peer out of the window, but upon discerning little alteration since he last looked, be it the steady fall of rain or the closely entwined couple under the tree, he snorted and turned away. Darcy was clearly making up for lost time, and as the lady did not seem to object to his present pastime, there was little he could do but join his young cousin and await their return to the house.
~o0o~
Meanwhile, in the drawing room window of the Harington residence, Serena turned away as the door opened to reveal Nicholas, and she threw herself across the room and into his opened arms.
Able at such a distance to discern little but the flash of colour that she knew to be her friend’s shawl, and thus quite certain of the identity of the couple under the tree, there was one thing she had been certain of: they were most definitely wrapped in each other’s arms.
~o0o~
Elizabeth remained secure in Darcy’s arms, her head once more resting against his chest, and he sighed softly. The rain continued to pour around them, and though he knew there was nowhere else he would rather be, he was certain that they should seek more robust shelter.
“We ought to go inside, Elizabeth. This storm shows no sign of abating.”
Lifting her head, she looked around at the rain-soaked fields and then glanced up at the thick, rolling grey clouds which were being hurried across the heavens by the gusty wind that had blown up, and he let out a short laugh as she began to smile.
“What are you thinking?”
She turned within his arms and placed her hands upon his shoulders, lifting her gaze to his. “I was just admiring the location. It is a beautiful place, is it not?”
Darcy could not help but laugh as he threw the foul weather another cursory glance. “Most indubitably,” he agreed, and then he bent to catch her lips with his. For himself, he could think of no finer place to be just now than closely entwined with Elizabeth, fair prospect or not.