A/N - you guys! I have no idea what happened but I either missed a chapter or deleted a chapter or...somehow got myself tied up in knots. fml. I'm so sorry! I've gone back and re-uploaded chapter 23 - 26, in order this time and hopefully making more sense. I'm so sorry for the confusion. That's what I get for juggling too many projects! ;)
But, happy news: I'm upping the posting schedule for the rest of the week hoping to have this baby finished and up *completed* by Friday, so that we are ready to start book #3 on Monday. That on is as-yet untitled, so hopefully inspiration will strike while I'm editing...
Apologies again for the messed up posting. Hopefully won't happen again xxx
Lizzy's talk with Mary had settled her nerves considerably. She still could not quite believe that this was happening - that Mr Darcy had asked her to marry him and that she, Lizzy, was poised to accept. She could not refute the wisdom of the match, though, when it offered them both a way forward. And the sense of relief she felt at the question of Mr Collins being so swiftly and decidedly answered was palpable. Her spirits soared and she walked with energy, determined to enjoy some exercise before she sought out Mr Darcy to give him her answer. It was quite by chance, then, that she spotted Anne de Bourgh, sitting on a bench that was surrounded by those flowers that still bloomed in the sheltered Kent Autumn.
"Here is a picture!" she exclaimed, pausing to sit near her friend.
"I did not take you for an artist!" Anne remarked, with a warm smile.
"Indeed, I am not, but I am well able to admire beauty. You make a perfect scene, sitting here amidst the flowers, with the late afternoon sun lighting your golden hair."
"Not an artist, but definitely a wordsmith," Anne said, laughing at Lizzy's poetic description. "How are you, dear Lizzy? You were so quiet after church that I feared you had had some mishap on your visit to the mausoleum. I trust you found it well?"
"Yes, and appreciated its architecture, just as you assured me I would." Elizabeth paused. "You are at least as observant as my sister, Mary, in understanding what others find agreeable. I pride myself on my powers of observation but I am sure you both put me quite to shame."
"We often fail to see that which is unfolding right before our eyes," Anne said. "Particularly as it pertains to us as individuals."
There was a sad note to her voice, and Elizabeth tried to discern her meaning. Might she refer to George Martin, to her secret romance?
"It is difficult, I think," Lizzy ventured. "To be honest about one's feelings when we know others might disapprove."
Anne glanced up, sharply, but Elizabeth continued, undeterred.
"I speak mostly of my own experiences, of course. However, I am bold enough that when a matter is so very important to me, I confess I care more for my own feelings in living through it, than I do of others who wish me to endure." She smiled, self-deprecatingly. "Is that terribly selfish?"
"It is honest, I believe," Anne said, softly. "And brave. I do admire you, Elizabeth. What it must be like to be so confident in one's own abilities and decisions, to be able to overthrow the will of those older or wiser than oneself."
"I do not believe that wisdom and age are inextricably linked," Elizabeth said. "In fact, I think our elders are occasionally blinded to the course of true wisdom by the experience of their years. If one has always acted in a certain way, one must always act in a certain way." She shook her head. "I disagree. The world is constantly moving forward, Anne, and we must move with it, or fear to languish, forgotten, in the past." She laughed. "Oh dear! I seem to be waxing unpleasantly lyrical this afternoon, don't I?"
"I like it," Anne said, firmly. "It is so long since I had young women of my age to associate with that I am quite jealous of you and Mary. Imagine, a house full of sisters, and a built-in group of friends! It must be heavenly."
"Hmmm!" Elizabeth laughed again. "My dear Anne, if I thought your mother would permit it, I would invite you to visit Longbourn, so that you might see how misinformed you are on the nature of sisters. In fact, you will see for yourself on the day of Mary and Colonel Fitzwilliam's wedding. Alas, I love my sisters dearly, but to call them kindred spirits would be to be generous indeed."
Anne smiled, acquiescing to Lizzy's point in the absence of any experience of her own to draw upon. The pair sat quietly together for a moment more, until Lizzy stood.
"Might I press you to walk a few steps with me?"
Anne shook her head.
"I am quite content here, thank you, but please do go and enjoy your walk. If I am still here on your return I will go into the house with you. The sun is so warm for the time of year, and the flowers so beautiful that I am loathed to leave them."
Elizabeth nodded, bidding her friend goodbye, and continued on her walk. She darted a glance over her shoulder and saw Anne pull a scrap of paper from her reticule. Another letter? She smiled. No wonder Anne wishes for solitude in which to read it. She felt a flicker of danger, wondering whether she ought to confess her suspicions to her friend, and better counsel her against such behaviour. It was unwise, to exchange letters with a man when there was as yet no agreement in place to their courtship or future marriage. Yet what other option do they have? she reasoned. Lady Catherine would never permit any connection between them, particularly if she intends Anne to wed Mr Darcy. Her only hope is to reason with her mother once Mr Darcy is married. Then there can be no alternative, and Lady Catherine will surely bow to her daughter's wishes in order to see her happy, even if it is not what she might have chosen. Even as she thought the words, she acknowledged their difficulty. Lady Catherine was like Mrs Bennet, but, if it were possible, with still firmer will, and Anne was not bold enough to withstand her, she had admitted as much. Well, then we must help her, Mr Darcy and I. I am sure he wishes to see his cousin happy.
So decided, she was free to enjoy her walk, and found her steps winding towards the walled garden that Mr Darcy had shown her so recently. She recalled their conversation then, the stilted way he had spoken. Had he intended on proposing, even then? That might explain his agitation. Elizabeth felt a flicker of delight in her stomach and tried to quell it. It is a business arrangement, recall. He said as much. You are merely getting swept up in thought of romance where there is none.
Her silent lecture was somewhat effective, and her excitement had settled into a vague sense of expectation, as she entered the small garden. It was only when she realised the garden was not deserted that her nerves rose once more. The garden's occupant recognised her at the same time she recognised him, and there was a mutual exclamation of surprise that was not unhappy.
"Mr Darcy!" Elizabeth cried.
"Miss Elizabeth, I did so hope we might speak again before the day was out. Have you had any more time to consider my question? Please, do not imagine me to be pressing you to a conclusion, I am merely curious -"
His manner suggested this was not entirely true. "Curious" did not begin to explain the anxious way he walked towards her, or the frown that darkened his already fierce expression. He was in such a state of agitation that Elizabeth thanked Mary silently once more for her counsel. Without it, she, too, would be as unsettled as the man before her, she felt certain. Yet in his case, she possessed, with a few short words, the ability to ease his anxiety.
"Yes, Mr Darcy, I have made my decision." She drew in a short breath, her heart pounding a staccato against her chest. "I accept your proposal."