After their conversation of great weight and tension, both parties silently agreed to change the tone of conversation to something much more light and happy. There were discussions of interests, intent to find as many mutually favorable occupations as possible. There was conversation of books and the values of so many as well as the advantages lent by walking and the best paths of which to partake of the exercise. From Shakespeare and Lord Byron to the grounds of Pemberley and the path to Oakham Mount. Every devisable topic was discussed until they both realized that the time would be approaching for the Mr. and Mrs. Collins and Maria Lucas to return to the parsonage. Reluctantly they agreed that it would be most prudent to return to the house.
"As much as I would wish to scream aloud about my luck in receiving your consent to court you, I also believe it would be wise to keep our arrangement quiet. I still wish to gain your father's approval of our courtship, and if my aunt or your cousin discover the truth, I daresay news will reach Longbourn well before I could reach your father's library. Not to mention, if my aunt learns of our arrangement, I daresay she would not hesitate a moment in her persecutions of yourself, and I do not wish to give my aunt the cut direct," sensibly advised Darcy.
"I believe I agree with you, and I would say that my father would only give my consent if I were present. I fear my previous dislike of you was no secret to my father," she said, pausing only to give Darcy's arm a reassuring squeeze. "However, I do believe it would also be advisable to have friends in on our secret. I would assume you would wish to tell your cousin anyway, and I doubt Charlotte would be able to stay willfully ignorant for long. She knows me to well for that."
With a coarse chuckle, he nodded in agreement. At this, they had reached the parsonage, and Darcy placed a lingering kiss on Elizabeth's knuckles before quickly turning on his heels and walking briskly back towards Rosings. Elizabeth watched as his silhouette approached the great house, surprised that she was having a hard time breathing after having his lips so delicately brush her hand.
Finally, Elizabeth tore herself from her contemplations and entered the house. Just as soon as Elizabeth sat down in her friends sitting room, she heard the approaching voices.
As soon as Charlotte laid eyes on her, she knew her friend could tell something was off. Elizabeth shook her head slightly, so unperceptively that no one else could notice. Understandingly, Charlotte excused herself and requested that Elizabeth accompany her all in one breath, an action that went uncommented upon by her husband who was already occupied by discussing the great virtues of the Lady Catherine de Borugh at Maria.
They were barely in Elizabeth's room before Charlotte began interrogating her friend.
"What has happened Lizzy? And do not waste our time pretending that you don't know what I'm talking about. We both know that there is a chance that Mr. Collins will soon follow us. Just tell me."
"I would, if you would ever stop questioning me," Elizabeth paused, giggling slightly at Charlotte's glare of frustration. "As much as I hate to admit it, you were right. Mr. Darcy has feelings for me."
With this statement, Charlotte flew over to the door and locked it, knowing that this would be a long conversation, and that she would not leave until she knew it all. She then immediately sat down next to Elizabeth, expectantly waiting the rest of the story.
Elizabeth told her friend about the proposal, and the horrible presentation of it. She explained that she could not marry a man who tore her dearest sister's happiness away.
"So, you rejected him, Lizzy?"
"I said no such thing, my dear Charlotte. You must stop with assuming so poorly of everyone," quipped Elizabeth. She once again laughed at her older friend's expression.
"Seriously Lizzy. Please tell me you at least rejected him with some civility. It would not do well to anger such a powerful man."
"Why do you assume I rejected him? I did not accept his proposal for marriage. Yes, that is true. But reject him? No, that notion is a little too severe, don't you think? Is it not possible that I made a suggestion? Proposed a compromise?"
At this, Charlotte was entirely to confused. She could not believe her headstrong friend not only refused the proposal of such a powerful man, but also be so impertinent to suggest a compromise. She had once more underestimated the willful nature of Lizzy. After a few moments of silent contemplation, she shot Elizabeth an inquisitive look, asking what type of suggestion she could have possibly made.
"Is it not obvious? I told him that he could ask to court me instead. My reasons where logical and justified. I wanted to offer him an opportunity to amend his slights and mistakes, for I hate holding grudges, especially when they become increasingly more emotionally confusing. It made more sense for us to discuss everything openly and without fear of propriety and opinions, and the pretense of a courtship was the most logical way to do such a thing. I, however, did not realize that by discarding all my hate, there would be nothing left for me to feel for the man but the most ardent love," Elizabeth admitted. The last statement, however, she had not realized to be true until she had spoken the words. She was in love with Mr. Darcy. She had gone from hate to love in a matter of hours. She began to giggle at herself slightly, euphoric with happiness. Upon seeing her friend's befuddled expression, her laughter only escalated.
"Lizzy, I don't understand. What has changed so remarkably that you could change your mind?"
Elizabeth was now in hysterics. She had not realized how inconceivable the turn of events had been. If her most logical and objective friend could not follow the story and believe her, who would. Once finally recovered, she explained how she had allowed Mr. Darcy a chance to explain everything, and how through his explanations, she was able to forgive him. After she had had no more reasons left to hate him, all that was left was an emotion that was just as intense, if not more so: love. Elizabeth, however, did keep the discussion of Wickham from her friend. That was still a topic that she wanted to belong strictly to herself and Mr. Darcy.
Unbeknownst to both ladies, a similar conversation was occurring between Mr. Darcy and Colonel Fitzwilliam, less than a mile away in the study of Rosings.
While Darcy had not previously disclosed his plans to his cousin, the war experienced colonel knew the face of a man on a mission. He had suspected some affection towards the Hertforshire miss from his cousin for some time, and that night, the absence of both parties at dinner had assured him of it. He was not sure what the status of the relationship was, but he knew that Darcy was love sick, and that only a woman as strong-willed as Elizabeth Bennet would earn such admiration.
"Alright, how was Miss Bennet? Don't act surprised at my knowing. You have been traipsing around ever since we got to Kent, and after a missed meal and a walk in the park, you look like you are in the clouds."
"Is it that obvious? I don't wish Aunt Catherine to know, for I'd never hear the end of it."
"It is only obvious to people who know you well enough to see past the mask. And for as much as Aunt Catherine claims to know, you are one of the last things she will ever fully understand. And I promise, your secret is safe with me, because if she begins harping on you, all of Kent will hear, and I'm in Kent. Now answer the question," reassured Fitzwilliam, allowing a smirk to cover his face in amusement. He had suspected that Darcy would have at least tried to feebly deny it once. He must be truly besotted if he was so resigned to discuss such a personal matter.
"Very well. I went to the parsonage to ask Miss Elizabeth to marry me. She told me that she would not."
Out of all things, Fitzwilliam had not expected that. She had told his cousin no. The cousin that every woman from the ton had thrown herself at. The target of every mercenary momma in England. And the young miss from Hetforshire, of a family of a lower sum, had denied Fitzwilliam Darcy's proposal.
"I knew I liked her. She is the one woman in all of England to do what most men are afraid to do: deny Fitzwilliam Darcy anything. But, Darce, if she rejected you, why are you smiling like a damn fool."
"She told me to propose courtship instead. She said that my proposal for marriage was contemptible, and that the history of our acquaintance was so filled with mutual scorn that it would be impossible to accept me currently, but if we got to know each other better, maybe we might be able to revisit the idea later."
"She thought you hated her? You must have had that mask on so tight, because up close, its undeniable that you are in love with her. I would've said that she must be ignorant if she thought you hated her, but seeing as she is so magnificent as to provide you with a set down, reject your proposal, and then tell you what to ask instead, her being ignorant is entirely impossible."
"For once, I believe we are in agreement in our observations of a lady. In fact, I dare say she is the most intelligent person I have ever met. She may not have attended a school, but she has such an untamable curiosity. I truly am in love with her. She is brilliant, strong, and far kinder than she could ever understand. She is extremely humble, but not to a point of self-deprecation. She is more than I could have ever dreamed of for a wife. I just pray that she will come to forgive me."
