What was he supposed to write? That he was sorry? He wasn't. He had done the right thing. And the whole Wickham thing? If she didn't have any faith in him then why should he put her right? She hadn't even given him the benefit of the doubt. He was in love with her but she neither welcomed nor deserved his love. He took a drink and decided to go for a walk in the garden to calm down. He needed to think about this.
He strolled down into the rose garden, gazing at the stars. It was a beautiful night and the full moon shone down on him as he admired the perfect roses. He saw someone walking toward him. It was the most beautiful apparition he had ever beheld. She looked like an angel. She was startled when she saw him but kept her composure. She didn't even speak. The night was to perfect to be interrupted by anything other than poetry or music. She was perfect. He had never seen a woman that beautiful before. He bowed and she curtsied. She was flushed. He wanted to stroke her cheek, to hold her.
Maria Lucas looked up at the man in front of her. He was breathtaking, beautiful, wonderful. She could see in his eyes that he understood beauty. He could appreciate the night like few others. She was painfully aware that she shouldn't be here. She had just not been able to sleep and she couldn't stand being in her sister's house. She needed to feel free, to be able to breathe. She looked intently into his eyes. She knew that this was wrong, she was young and unchaperoned but the beauty of it all washed away all her fears. The perfect roses, the full moon, the twinkling stars.
He finally broke the silence in a soft but passionate voice, "Do you wish me to escort you back to your house?" She nodded dumbly at him. He offered his arm and they strolled back. When they arrived at the rectory she turned around slowly to face him.
Fitzwilliam Darcy was not a spontaneous man. At least he had never been spontaneous before but looking at this angel he couldn't stop himself. He didn't care who this girl was. He needed to possess her, to make her his. Slowly he took one of her hands and opened his mouth, staring into her beautiful eyes.
"I know that this is the first time we have talked to eachother. I know that we do not know eachother but frankly I do not care. You have entranced me in a way that no other woman ever could. Ms. Lucas, would you do me the very great honour of consenting to be my wife?"
For a moment she simply looked at him before letting her features relax into a smile. "Of course, Mr. Darcy. I would be very honoured."
He agreed to come by the house next day to talk to her father. He had never felt happier. He did not yet know his Maria but he just knew that she was perfect. He returned to his room and crumpled the letter he had begun into a ball. "Take that, Elizabeth Bennet," he whispered to himself before going to bed.
A/N: I just had this sudden urge to write a Pride and Prejudice oneshot and this was the first idea that popped into my head. I'm just very into weird pairings right now. I hope you like it but I know it's not very Austen :P