Elizabeth had taken the news, offered by Lydia with a sneer, that Mr Darcy was sequestered in the library with their father, with a calm that belied the churning of her insides. She had exchanged a quick glance with Jane, who had smiled reassuringly at her, before returning her attention to her book once more, but she saw none of the words and instead stared at the reed marker as the man she loved no doubt ran the gauntlet of her father’s sarcasm. She had hoped to have the opportunity to speak to him before he entered the library, that she might forewarn him of what her father already understood, but it was too late for that now.
She had been so happy over recent days, but she had not considered the reality of how things might stand at home. Though her mother was intent upon capturing Colonel Fitzwilliam if she could, and thus had ceased her perpetual tirade against Darcy, she still held him in little favour. Lydia persisted in her infantile defence of Wickham, and nothing Elizabeth said seemed to hold any sway.
With a sigh, she placed the marker in the book and dropped it onto a side table before getting to her feet. If only her mother knew precisely what Darcy was to become to her: a son by marriage. Darcy had told her that he wished he had either of his parents alive, that they might welcome her into their family. She had both to offer, and one was likely to take his sport with him and the other to repay his kindness to the family with incivility.
Slipping from the room, she walked to the dining room where she settled on the stool before the small pianoforte that Mary tended to practise upon and, desperate for distraction, she began to play a light air from memory, allowing the music to wash over her as she endeavoured to pass the time before she could be reunited with the gentleman.
~o0o~
Finally released from the library, Darcy closed the door firmly and then stood with his back to it, surveying the hallway, uncertain of which direction to go in search of Elizabeth. Glad that his duty was complete, all he desired was her company, and he walked over to an open door whence he could hear the voices of some of the younger Bennets. Fortunately, no one seemed to detect his presence in the doorway, and it did not take above a second for him to conclude that Elizabeth was not in the room.
Turning on his heel, he walked back into the centre of the hall, but just then, he became aware of the sound of music coming from a further open doorway to his right and, on peering inside, he was relieved to find what he sought.
~o0o~
The news of Elizabeth’s engagement to Mr Darcy was broken by Mr Bennet to his wife in the privacy of his library, a wise precaution as it turned out. At first, she assumed he was in jest. When she realised he was not, silence fell – a long, blissful silence as Mrs Bennet stared at her husband in blatant disbelief. For one brief interlude, Mr Bennet thought perhaps his prayers had been answered, and that such good fortune as had recently been bestowed upon them had miraculously turned his wife into a quieter and more rational creature.
The shriek that soon followed, so piercing that even the thickness of the door was insufficient to conceal it from the rest of the household, proved him to be overly optimistic.
~o0o~
Keen to shield the gentleman as best she could from her mother’s reaction, be it a continuance of her aversion or effusions of a highly embarrassing nature, Elizabeth willingly forsook the pianoforte upon Darcy’s entrance into the room.
Going to him quickly, she was relieved by the smile that he gave her as he took her hands in his, raising one to his lips before drawing her to him briefly and dropping another kiss upon her head. “We have his consent and his blessing.”
The words were softly spoken, but though Elizabeth had not really anticipated otherwise, following her confession to her father the previous evening, she released a pent up breath.
Stepping away, as she knew she must, she smiled up at him. “You were in there for such a time; I began to fear the worst!”
Darcy merely shook his head, and at the sound of approaching footsteps across the hallway, she reached out her hand.
“Come, Sir. Let us partake of the morning air.”
Taking her proffered hand, Darcy placed a further kiss upon it before they made good their escape, the lady leading him through the open French doors and across a neatly tended lawn.
“How did you fare?”
Darcy threw her a quick look. “Better than I had hoped.”
Elizabeth sighed. “Poor Papa. If only I had not done such an effective job in blackening your character and professing my disfavour last autumn, he would not have had to overcome such a vast hurdle.”
“Do not concern yourself, Elizabeth. Your father seems adequately reconciled to the match. He even shared a glass of his very finest cognac with me!”
Raising a brow, Elizabeth laughed. “Did he, indeed? Then you are fortunate. That prized bottle rarely sees the light of day. I am not sure even Bingley was given the same privilege.”
“You surmise correctly. Your father did own that he had considered offering some to Bingley at the given time, but that my friend was shaking so much he was concerned he would spill it, and he had no inclination for wasting good spirit by allowing it to be consumed by a hearthrug!”
“How very Papa that sounds!” She threw him an anxious glance. “I trust he did not make it too difficult for you.”
Darcy let out a short laugh. “He had ample sport with me, Elizabeth. I see that I will have to up my game to keep apace with you both.”
“Oh dear,” Elizabeth bit her lip. “Was it very awful?”
Shaking his head, Darcy smiled at her as they passed through an open gate into a small but charming walled garden. As it was only early May, the flowers were barely in bud, but it was a restful place, the pale stone of the walls covered in trailing clematis, honeysuckle and wisteria, all combining to form a pleasurable backdrop for the eye at every turn.
“Please tell me he was not so mean as to tease you at such a time!”
“What do I not deserve, Elizabeth? I hardly recommended myself to him – or anyone else in the neighbourhood – on my first sojourn here. Further, he knows of my appalling mistake in considering you not sufficiently tolerable to dance with.” He shook his head and sighed. “I have brought it all upon myself.”
Elizabeth said nothing, leading him to a stone bench against the far wall and soon they were settled upon it, side by side, her hand still resting in his, as it had from the time they left the house. There was a small, stone fountain in the centre of the garden, and the trickling water was, for the moment, the only sound competing with the birdsong from a nearby tree.
“Are you disappointed that he understood your purpose before you had spoken?” Elizabeth glanced up at him. “I felt obliged to speak of it, for his imagination was in full sway.”
Darcy shook his head. “I suspect it smoothed my passage. He does not strike me as a man who takes well to being in the dark about things – especially when they relate to you, dearest Elizabeth.”
Lifting his hand, Elizabeth placed a kiss upon the back of it, and Darcy gently squeezed hers in return before releasing her. She looked up quickly, her gaze soon fixed by the movement of his hand to his coat pocket and then upon the small leather box resting on his palm.
“Elizabeth,” he whispered, and her eyes flew to his.
“Though you have done me the honour of accepting my hand, I have yet to offer you a token of our engagement.”
Elizabeth shook her head. “I have no desire for tokens, Fitz. Your continued affection and unchanged wishes are all I could ever hope for.” She smiled impishly at him. “Though a token here would not be remiss in the circumstances.” She touched her cheek and, unable to help himself, Darcy leaned forward and claimed a proper kiss in response to this, his heart swelling with his love for her.
“Do not distract me so!”
Elizabeth laughed. “But it is my duty to provide you with some levity!”
He smiled and shook his head. “Have patience. I wish to explain something to you.” Darcy could tell that Elizabeth was suppressing her humour at his expense, but he pushed aside the urge to oblige her.
“When I… when I made my foolish application in Kent,” he paused and raised a finger briefly to her lips as she made to protest. “I held no doubt of my acceptance. Such was my arrogance, Elizabeth, as well you know. I had this with me.” He raised the palm on which the case rested. “I brought it with me once I knew from Aunt Catherine of your presence at Hunsford – though I admit I had not fully determined to approach you.” He stopped and sighed. “What will you think of me – I was still gripped in a debate over whether to act upon my feelings.”
Elizabeth chose that moment to mirror his gesture and placed a finger against his lips.
“Hush, my love. It does not do to dwell upon the past. We are moved beyond such trials.”
Taking her hand, he bestowed a kiss upon the palm before flipping open the lid of the box and extracting the ring. Then, he held it up before them. “This was my mother’s. You would do me further honour by accepting it as a symbol of my love for you.”
Smiling tremulously up at him, she nodded, and he held her hand firmly in his as he slid the ring onto her finger, placing a kiss upon both when he had done.
“Your hands are so slender; I shall have the ring resized as soon as I am returned to Town.”
Elizabeth looked down at her finger, studying the ring intently. Then, she raised her head, placing a hand against his cheek. “I love you so much,” she whispered. “Thank you. I shall treasure it always.”
She reached up and pressed her lips to his and, unable and unwilling to resist her, Darcy swept her into his embrace as they both expressed the depth of their feelings as warmly and as ardently as can be expected of a young couple in love, duly afforded all the protection a walled garden could offer.
Though proof against unwanted eyes, however, garden walls are no protection against the sound of hooves and wheels pounding a gravel driveway, and they were soon disturbed by the very same. Resting his forehead against Elizabeth’s, Darcy strove to bring his breathing under control before placing a quick kiss on her cheek and straightening up.
“It would seem our moment of peace is at an end.” He smiled ruefully at Elizabeth.
“For today, perhaps. But there will be others.”
Reluctantly, Darcy got to his feet, drawing her up with him. “It is perhaps a timely intrusion. I do not think the colour that has washed your cheeks could be put entirely down to exercise, dearest Elizabeth.”
The lady laughed as they turned to retrace their steps towards the gate in the garden wall, their slow pace reflecting their desire to remain alone as long as possible. “Likely not.” She glanced up at him quickly. “Though, Fitz, it was an activity of sorts, was it not?”
He laughed also, but shook his head. “Come, enough distraction. Let us talk of something else.”
“If you insist, Sir, but then you must select the subject.”
Silence greeted this at first, but then Darcy turned to her with a smile. “Has today’s post arrived yet at Longbourn?” Elizabeth threw him a puzzled glance. “I have become accustomed to you talking to me of letters whenever we meet. I merely wondered what today’s matter might be.”
Elizabeth smiled as they neared the gate. “You are learning to tease me, Fitz. But this talk of correspondence reminds me; I am long overdue in writing to my aunt, and now I have such news for her!”
Darcy grunted. “I am certain Mrs Gardiner will react to the intelligence in a far pleasanter manner than will Lady Catherine.”
“Hmm, I do not envy your cousin, Anne, for she shall witness it!” Elizabeth glanced up at him, then squeezed his arm affectionately. “I still have your letter, Fitz. Every now and again, I take it out just to look at it. Sometimes, of course, I am merely admiring the evenness of your hand!”
Coming to a halt, Darcy turned to face her. “I cannot understand why you do not wish it destroyed. When I think of how I felt as I wrote it, I-”
Elizabeth shook her head firmly. “No, my love. It was instrumental in my coming to understand your true character. How could I not cherish it, not only for all it stands for but for what it has led us to?”
Darcy bent to kiss her one last time. They had reached the gate now, and this precious interlude was over. He motioned to her to precede him, but as she passed before him, he stayed her with a hand upon her arm.
“Once we are wed, dearest Lizzy, I shall write you a letter that will obliterate any memory of the one I handed you in Kent.”
Elizabeth choked back a laugh, the colour in her cheeks returning as her gaze met his, and he leaned down to quickly kiss her lips before they turned to emerge from the walled garden, coming to a halt as they took in the sight before them.
Bingley had drawn his curricle to a halt and leapt from the bench before turning to offer Georgiana his hand. The Colonel, meanwhile, handed the reins of his horse to a garden boy who had just come running from the stable block.
Darcy sighed. “We had best join them; Georgiana will be anxious.”
Elizabeth looked over as from the house came forth her father and Jane, swiftly followed by Mrs Bennet, waving her handkerchief, her voice carrying on the air towards them as she greeted Bingley with noisy affection. As a giggling Kitty and Lydia spilled from the doorway into the bright sunlight, Elizabeth laughed ruefully.
“Aye, and with good reason. Well, Sir.” She glanced up at him and smiled. “Let us see how you fare; I will wager you will call for your mount ‘ere long and high-tail it back to Netherfield, but if you do, be sure to take me with you!”
With that, she took Darcy’s proffered arm once more, and they set off towards their families, their steps in perfect harmony as they walked across the grass.