Falling for Mr. Darcy (40 page)

Not unlike the changing colors beginning to show across the horizon, his memories stirred within him an array of feelings. The sun rose slowly into the sky and turned the grey shadows of the ground below into pale shades of landscape and then to a brilliant glistening tapestry of color. The sun caught each patch of frost and melted it into crystal dewdrops, like tiny stars all over the ground. While he watched the transformation over the hills, he realized that Elizabeth had been like the sun to him. She transformed him, turning his life from a dull grey to fill it with vibrant colors — defrosting his heart and demeanor and warming him to feel the shimmer of love throughout.

He reached inside his pocket and pulled out his mother’s ring, a ruby surrounded by tiny diamonds. He gently brushed his finger across the top of the ring as he had always done when it graced the slim finger of his mother. She had given it to him just before she died. He remembered her frail hand holding it out for him, and he did not want to take it. He did not want to believe she would not be around to wear it. When she was gone, he kept it locked in his safe in London, hidden away so he could not be reminded of its existence. It had been in the family for generations and was now his to give to his future wife.

Before he met Elizabeth, he had begun to suspect he would never marry. He could simply not imagine disgracing the memory of his sweet mother by presenting the ring to anyone less deserving than its previous owner. He turned it around in his fingers as he looked at it. Now, he could not imagine it gracing anyone else’s hand but Elizabeth’s. The thought of it on her finger brought a smile to his face, and he serenely placed it back in his breast pocket and resumed his vigil at the window.

* * *

At Longbourn, Elizabeth, too, was up early. She pocketed Mr. Darcy’s handkerchief and left her chamber before sunrise to visit with her father before going on a walk. She had missed Mr. Darcy since he left her in the garden several days before and had taken to carrying his handkerchief with her as a reminder that he was coming back. It frustrated her that she was so discomfited due to his absence even though she was now convinced of his affection. However, after another long night and still no word from Bingley of his return, she had decided a little exercise would help calm her impatient spirits.

She knocked and entered her father’s study to see him sitting peacefully by the fire with a book. He smiled at her before dipping his head back to his book. She poured herself a cup of tea and put some toast with jelly on her plate before joining her father at the fire.

They sat together in silent companionship, and Elizabeth was glad for it. The wonderful thing about being in her father’s study was that neither felt compelled to converse all the time. It was the only room in the house in which she could be left to her thoughts if she wished to be. She sipped her tea and leaned her head back to savor the warmth, wondering what Darcy was doing at that moment. Mr. Bingley mentioned that he had written a few days before with news of Lady Catherine’s serious illness. Elizabeth hoped that he was not suffering too much under the worry for his aunt’s welfare.

By the time Elizabeth had finished her tea, the sun had begun to rise and bring more light into the study windows. She decided it was bright enough for her walk. and so she stood to leave.

“Going for a walk this morning, Lizzy?”

“Yes, Papa; would you like to come with me?” She smiled.

Mr. Bennet laughed quietly. “Not today, dear. I am afraid these old bones would slow you down. Come to see me when you return, will you?”

“Of course, Papa.” Elizabeth leaned down and placed a kiss on her father’s head before leaving the room. She languidly put on her warm cloak and gloves before stepping out into the crisp, January morning. She paused for a moment on the portico and looked around, deciding which path she wished to take that morning. She turned her eyes to the distance and decided a long walk would be just what she needed. She moved briskly to keep warm as she headed to the grove of trees that reminded her most of Mr. Darcy.

* * *

Mr. Darcy turned in response to the knock on his dressing room door. He bid the visitor enter, and the door opened to reveal his valet.

“Mr. Darcy, sir, your horse is ready.”

“Thank you, Rogers.”

Darcy turned and gathered his hat, gloves and crop from his valet after pulling on his greatcoat. He had decided that a ride about the countryside would serve the purpose of occupying the time before he could visit Elizabeth. He stood beside his horse on the mounting block and swept his gaze around to determine where he would ride. His memories from a morning many weeks earlier gave him only one choice. If he could not see Elizabeth yet, he, at least, could go to where he felt her memory. He mounted Salazar and prompted him into a quick pace, heading in the direction of a certain patch of trees.

When he finally reached the grove, he took the same footpath as he had on that day and slowed his horse to a walk as he tried to relive that morning in his mind. He smiled as he neared the bend in the path where he had first spotted Elizabeth. Stopping his horse, he dismounted to walk for a while.

When he came around the bend, he stopped abruptly. He would not believe his eyes; he had conjured up that memory so often in the past weeks that now he was not surprised his mind had created the form of Elizabeth before him. She was sitting on the same log, tapping her foot as she hummed a tune. As he looked upon her, he was surprised and impressed with himself for imagining her so clearly. It was as if she were really there. About the moment he realized it was no dream, she turned to look in his direction and smiled.

He dropped the reins and walked right to her. She was really there before him! As he neared her, she made to stand, but he forestalled her.

“Miss Bennet!” he exclaimed. “No, do not stand. May I?” He indicated the space beside her on the log.

Elizabeth could not believe her good fortune and wondered whether she, in fact, was dreaming. But her dreams were never
that
good, and Mr. Darcy was there in the flesh, standing before her. Her mind was swimming and her heart beating so wildly that she did not immediately acknowledge his words. She was still just looking at him with amazement when his smile started to fade and she realized she had not answered him.

“Oh, yes, by all means, sir.” She shifted her position, allowing him more room beside her. Her hand unconsciously came to her chest as she willed her heart to slow. “This is a pleasant surprise. I did not expect you today.”

Darcy folded himself beside her and looked at her with open admiration. “I returned from Kent just last night.”

Elizabeth smiled and tipped her head in the direction of his horse wandering towards its master. “And you were out for a ride this morning, I presume.” Her smiling face then turned to one of concern. “But, sir, Mr. Bingley said your aunt was gravely ill. How is she?”

Elizabeth was taken aback by the sudden fierceness on Darcy’s face as he scowled. “I daresay she is herself again.”

She could not understand the sudden dark cloud passing across his countenance, so she tentatively placed a comforting hand on his arm. “That is good news, is it not?”

As Darcy looked down at her hand, his face softened and his lips turned upwards slightly. He placed a hand over hers and said, “Miss Bennet, I cannot believe my luck in finding you here this morning. Let us not sour the dream by speaking of my aunt. I will explain later, but for now I wish only to dwell on happy topics.”

Elizabeth puzzled over his words but nodded as she gave him a gentle smile.

Speaking of his aunt and the still surreal reality of Elizabeth sitting beside him reminded him of his long-awaited purpose in his wish to see her. He had planned to think through his words carefully and then request a private audience with her later that morning if his reception was what he had hoped it would be. Now he was struck with the blessed truth that he was already with Elizabeth — in their patch of woods, no less — and her hand was resting on his arm.

He looked at her beautiful face and smiled as he noticed her bruises were nearly gone, leaving only a few light yellow discolorations. He reached a hand to her face and gently touched each spot.

Elizabeth’s breath caught in her throat at the sudden intimacy of his action. She held herself very still to savor the feel of his hand on her face. Her eyes nearly closed with pleasure at his touch, and she had to will them to stay open.

“Your bruises are nearly gone,” he stated quietly before realizing what he was doing. He pulled his hand away and looked down in embarrassment.

Elizabeth smiled at his reaction and turned a playful voice to him. “I have a confession to make, Mr. Darcy.”

Darcy smiled as he recognized the tone of her voice and saw that her face was set in a serious and contrite manner. He laughed softly at her attempt to keep the smile that played at her lips from destroying her repentant façade.

His lips twitched as he forced his own expression to match her serious look. “Is that right, Miss Bennet? And what is this confession?”

Elizabeth peeked guiltily through her lashes, and he bit his lip in amusement. “I am afraid to say it, sir.”

Darcy laughed spiritedly before resuming a serious demeanor. “Now, I will not be baited like this, Miss Bennet. You said you have a confession to make; now out with it, girl!”

Elizabeth’s mouth betrayed her with a sudden smile and quick laugh before she could cover it with her glove and try to wipe away the smile. “Very well, sir. I confess that I came to this very spot because I missed you and it reminds me of you.”

Mr. Darcy smiled down at her and leaned in so that their shoulders brushed as he said conspiratorially, “I confess that was my purpose, as well, in coming here this morning.”

Elizabeth gave him a playfully surprised look. “Indeed!”

He leaned a bit closer and took her hands in his. “However, if I had known I would be fortunate enough to encounter you here, I would have had another purpose in mind.”

Elizabeth raised her eyebrows. “Is that so?” Her breath suddenly caught at the intense look he gave her. She watched as his dark eyes turned liquid and his smile softened.

Darcy looked at her while he sorted through the emotions running through him to find the right words to say. He broke their gaze as it was doing nothing but churning those emotions further. He began speaking while his head was lowered, looking at her small hands in his, but soon the words sparked a need to see her face.

“Elizabeth . . . dearest, loveliest Elizabeth. Words are insufficient to express the love that dwells in my heart for you. I cannot mark the moment or the hour or the look that first laid the foundation. I was in the middle before I knew I had begun. I love you, Elizabeth! I think I might have waited my whole life to love you. Will you . . . will you consent to allow me to continue to love you every day for the rest of our lives? Will you be my wife, Elizabeth?”

Elizabeth sat transfixed as her heart began a steady increase in its rate until she was sure it would burst. His words washed through her and claimed her. Her eyes filled with moisture, and she had only command enough of herself to softly whisper, “Yes.”

Darcy smiled brightly, revealing his beautiful dimples. He pulled her hands up to his lips and kissed each one. His actions served to break her from her dream-like state, and she realized with a sudden skip to her heart that he had just proposed! She exclaimed with more strength and a laugh, “Yes! Yes, Mr. Darcy!”

He laughed at her sudden enthusiasm and smiled at her again.

Elizabeth then felt tugging at her fingers and she looked down to see that Mr. Darcy was removing her left glove. “What are you doing, sir?” she asked playfully.

Darcy shrugged as he said, “You just gave me your hand, Elizabeth, and I am inspecting my acquisition. Do you object?” He gave her a look of challenge.

Elizabeth opened her mouth to speak but then could not when she felt the exhilarating touch of his skin against hers.
When did he take off his gloves?
she wondered briefly before again being swallowed up by the sensation. Never before had she felt an unrelated man’s bare hand touch hers. Tingles ran up the length of her arm and back down again to the spot where he was tenderly turning her hand in his.

She swallowed in an attempt to compose herself before saying, “I hope you approve of your recent acquisition, sir.”

Darcy smiled. “It is quite lovely. However, I cannot approve just yet. There is something missing.”

His words surprised her and she looked down at her un-gloved hand in puzzlement. At that moment, he reached into his greatcoat and pulled out an object. Before she could say anything, he slipped the most beautiful ring on her fourth finger.

She slowly pulled her hand out of his for a closer look at the ring. She whispered to herself, “It is so beautiful.” Looking up at his serene face, she said, “Are you sure, Mr. Darcy? This is too much!”

Darcy reclaimed her hand and shook his head, laughingly. “Elizabeth, you have just consented to be my wife. Do you not think you can address me less formally now?”

Elizabeth bit her lip before giving him a playful smile. “And how would you have me address you?”

Darcy pulled her closer to him. “My name is Fitzwilliam, but many of my family call me William. You may address me anyway you wish, Elizabeth.”