The evening spent in the drawing room at Longbourn was an anxious one indeed. Well, it was for two of it's occupants for the others sat in ignorant bliss of the trials that awaited the two in question. For it was just yesterday that Mr Darcy of Pemberley applied, for a second time, for the hand of Miss Elizabeth Bennet and was at last successful. And so very overjoyed was he at having gained the affection of the woman whom he had loved so consistently since he was violently rejected almost a year before. But now a harrowing task now lay before him. Before he could be joined forever in marital bliss with his love with the fine eyes and impertinent wit, he must of course ask for her fathers permission. The very noble and proud Mr Darcy, who intimidated everyone by his mere presence had to admit to himself that, at present, despite his initial abhorrence of Miss Elizabeth's inferior connections, he wished she were an orphan and that there would be no need to ask a father's permission for anything. He might marry her whenever he wished and be damned anyone who stood in his way! As it was however she was not an orphan and when Mr Bennet had finished his port and retired to his library as was his habit he would rise and follow and humbly ask for his favourite daughter's hand in marraige. This most certainly was not going to be the most pleasant experience in his life.

Mr Bennet rose and left. Mr Darcy waited only a few minutes. He didn't, after all, want to stalk his future Father in law down the corridor. Now was the time! He got up, and left. No one really noticed. Miss Elizabeth gave him a smile of encouragement as he left and Mr Bingley, as ever, grinned at him.

He walked the short distance down the dimly lit corridor to what he knew to be the library and knocked his usual commanding knock. "Come in!" He heard his admittance from through the door. He entered. His palms were getting sweaty as he entered the Longbourn library, which, although small, was by no means bare or lacking. Mr Bennet eyed the formidable Mr Darcy, who virtually filled the room, with surprise. Mr Darcy bowed as Mr Bennet stood.

"Mr Darcy!" He exclaimed. "Pray! To what do I owe this honour?"

"Pardon the intrusion sir. I come to you with wishes of a most delicate nature."

Mr Darcy seemed to shrink. Not quite filling the room any more. Mr Bennet was almost alarmed. Or, at least would be if he weren't somewhat amused at Mr Darcy's assumed nervousness.

"Sit down sir, sit down and tell me at once!"

Mr Darcy sat down in the seat offered directly opposite that of Mr Bennet.

"Whiskey?" Mr Bennet started pouring the class before Mr Darcy even consented and set the tumbler down before him. Mr Darcy thanked him and drained half the glass in one gulp and set it back down. As his throat burned and the warm liquid warmed his chest he mulled over exactly what he should say to this man. Several moments had passed with neither of them saying a word. Mr Darcy staring at his half devoured whiskey, wishing he had drunk more wine and eaten a little less food at dinner. Mr Bennet staring at Mr Darcy, slowly becoming alarmed, more and more so by the second, wondering what on earth had happened to make this proud unpleasant man seem so anxious.

"Mr Darcy, I can't help but notice that you have not yet confided in me exactly what these wishes of a delicate nature are."

Mr Darcy was unceremoniously snapped out of his reverie and looked at Mr Bennet as though seeing him for the first time. He gulped.

"Yes sir of course. Forgive me." He stood abruptly and started pacing the length of the room, mirroring his actions in the Collins's drawing room that dreadful morning almost a year ago. Mr Bennet, most alarmed by the other gentleman's actions stood before he realised his actions. Mr Darcy halted abruptly in front of Mr Bennet and turning to face him said: "I have come to ask you for Miss Elizabeth's hand in marriage." Mr Darcy spoke so fast that the sentence came out sounding more like a very long, complicated word in a foreign tongue. Mr Bennet had half a mind to call for the Reverend and half him exorcised.

"I beg your pardon?" asked Mr Bennet, hopelessly.

Mr Darcy breathed heavily; he did not want to say it again. He wanted to leave this instant and tell Elizabeth that he had been successful. However, slowly this time, making conscious effort to pause between each word separating them he asked again.

"I have come, sir, to ask for Miss Elizabeth's hand in marriage."

If Mr Bennet was alarmed before it was nothing to what he was now. Lizzy had never betrayed any feeling as positive as even indifference towards Mr Darcy. Never mind affection strong enough to induce her into marrying him.

"Lizzy?"

"Yes, Sir."

"My Lizzy?"

"Yes sir."

"Why?"

Such a blunt question surprised Mr Darcy a little. He hadn't entirely expected to be asked why he wanted to marry his daughter. The fact that he was asking at all he thought would have been an answer in it's self.

"I love her."

"Oh yes, of course, pardon me." He paused, searching for words. "With all due respect Mr Darcy, I have always been led to believe my Lizzy rather disliked you."

"It is true" Replied Mr Darcy "There was a time when she detested me it seems." It was evident that Mr Bennet was not going to give his permission for his favourite child to marry a man he believed she didn't like and so there was nothing left for it but for Mr Darcy to tell the protective father all of his history with his daughter (Or at least the basics) and hope he would be convinced so he continued thus: "Sir I must own that I have felt deep affection for your daughter from the time she spent at Netherfeild last year caring for Miss Bennet while she was ill, perhaps you recall?"

"Yes, yes of course. Go on."

"Well since that initial affection I had grown to love your daughter very much and when I found, to my good fortune, when paying my annual visit to my aunt Lady Catherine last April that Miss Elizabeth was but a short distance away visiting her cousin. I proposed to her, hoping then to make her my wife. But the mode of my declaration and my past behaviour, both of which were shockingly unbecoming, had caused such a deep dislike of me that I was unsuccessful. I have striven this past year, Mr Bennet, to make myself worthy of your daughter, to recommend myself to her so that I might at least have but a small portion of my affection returned. I have applied for your daughters hand again but yesterday and been successful. I believe that finally my sentiments have been returned and she has made me the happiest of men."

Mr Bennet, who had since drained his own whiskey, poured another and replenished Mr Darcy's glass. There were several moments before either man could speak. Mr Darcy had never opened his heart to any man so unknown to himself before and dared not speak for fear of baring his soul further than what was necessary and decent. Finally Mr Bennet spoke.

"You proposed to my Lizzy while she was in Hunsford and were refused?"

"Yes sir"

Mr Bennet was both amused and proud in one moment. Here was a man who likely was never refused a thing in his life and his dear Lizzy had refused to marry him. In no uncertain terms told him how disagreeable he was by what he could make of what Mr Darcy had told him.

"And you tell me that her feelings have completely altered since then, in that short time?"

"Yes sir I believe they have."

Mr Bennet considered Mr Darcy for a moment who, under his glare chose to drink his whiskey rather than return the stare. Mr Bennet emptied his own glass likewise then turned to Mr Darcy and spoke with a lightness of tone that had so far been absent from this meeting.

"Well Mr Darcy, I see that you love and respect my daughter very much and hope for your sake that she feels the same. I daresay she'll make you very happy for you could have chosen many a sillier woman. I give my consent of course, how could I not? But I must speak to Lizzy first and ascertain her affection for you."

Mr Bennet poured yet another glass of whiskey for himself and his companion and raised his glass in a toast.

"Well Mr Darcy, congratulations, If my Lizzy loves you then I daresay she'll make rather a charming and pleasant wife."

"To Miss Elizabeth!" said Darcy smiling and raising his glass to meet Mr Bennets both men smiling.

"To Miss Elizabeth indeed Mr Darcy" Both men drank the entire contents of the glass in one drink, barely tasting the liquid inside having drank so much in the past half hour yet neither man could be said to be in a stupor.

"When you return to the drawing room Mr Darcy please send Lizzy into me I would rather speak to her immediately."

"Yes sir, Of course." Mr Darcy bowed to his future father in law and left the room with somewhat conspicuous smile on his face. Whether owing to the whiskey he had or his confidence in Elizabeth and their impending nuptials, having the object of his desire finally his, no one would know. Needless to say that man had never been happier. Yet he knew that he had yet to experience much greater joy.

The End.