Author's Note:

Hi, guys! Well, here is the chapter that you have been waiting for… the proposal! You'll realise I took some of it from the book, but there's more, of course! I hope you enjoy it.

If you have read this far, I thank you, and I know that many will feel that this is the end. I mean, they are engaged, what else is there to write about? Well, I wrote much more! Most of it fluffy, funny (I hope) or just completely silly. So, I hope you decide to stay, but if not, thank you for reading this far, and for every single review you have written!

Remember to be careful, and take care of yourself and your family! Stay safe and healthy!

Jen


"Was that the reason you took to Miss Bennet so quickly?" Lady Anne asked. "Because you knew of your brother's feelings for her?"

"Yes... No..." she replied and sighed. "At first, at the inn, I wanted my possible future sister to like me, but when she visited at Pemberley, I admit I forgot all about marriage and only wished for her friendship."

"You are very lucky to have obtained it," Mr. Darcy said, remembering Miss Bennet's words. "She is a loyal friend to you, and let's pray she will soon be a loyal sister."


18.

Fitzwilliam was extremely nervous as he and Bingley rode to Longbourn. His friend had been more than happy to see him and delighted that Darcy wished to give his congratulations to his Jane so soon after his arrival.

The gentlemen arrived early; and Bingley, who wanted to be alone with Jane, proposed their all walking out. It was agreed to. Mrs. Bennet was not in the habit of walking, Mary could never spare time, but the remaining five set off together.

"Miss Bennet," Fitzwilliam called to the eldest Bennet daughter. "Allow me to congratulate you personally on your engagement."

Miss Bennet beamed and reached her hand over. Fitzwilliam, ever the gentleman, took it without thinking and bowed over it.

"I am very happy you have come back, Mr. Darcy," Miss Bennet said with a kind and sweet smile as she squeezed his hand gently.

She truly forgives me, Fitzwilliam thought and smiled back at her, before allowing her to return to her fiancé. They all started walking, though Bingley and Miss Bennet soon allowed the others to outstrip them. They lagged behind, while Elizabeth, Miss Kitty, and Fitzwilliam were to entertain each other. Very little was said by either; Miss Kitty was too much afraid of him to talk and Fitzwilliam was secretly forming a desperate resolution.

They walked toward the Lucases', because Miss Kitty wished to call upon Miss Lucas; and, when she left them, he noticed Elizabeth went boldly on with him alone. Now was the moment for his resolution to be executed; but before he had gathered his courage, she immediately said:

"Mr. Darcy, I am a very selfish creature, and for the sake of giving relief to my own feelings care not how much I may be wounding yours."

At hearing this, Fitzwilliam paled, thinking that she was trying to reject him before he even asked again. Fortunately, she kept speaking before grief took over, while he still had some presence of mind to listen:

"I can no longer help thanking you for your unexampled kindness to my poor sister. Ever since I have known it I have been most anxious to acknowledge to you how grateful I feel it. Were it known to the rest of my family I should not have merely my own gratitude to express."

"I am sorry, exceedingly sorry," replied Fitzwilliam, in a tone of surprise and emotion, "that you have ever been informed of what may, in a mistaken light, have given you uneasiness. I did not think Mrs. Gardiner was so little to be trusted."

"You must not blame my aunt. Lydia's thoughtlessness first betrayed to me that you had been concerned in the matter; and, of course, I could not rest till I knew the particulars. Let me thank you again and again, in the name of all my family, for that generous compassion which induced you to take so much trouble, and bear so many mortifications, for the sake of discovering them."

This is what I have feared, Fitzwilliam thought. I do not want your gratitude, Elizabeth. I want your heart, and your hand.

"If you will thank me," he replied, "let it be for yourself alone. That the wish of giving happiness to you might add force to the other inducements which led me on I shall not attempt to deny. But your family owe me nothing. Much as I respect them, I believe I thought only of you," he admitted. He closed his eyes and felt his heart beating rapidly on his chest, he took a deep breath and continued: "You are too generous to trifle with me. If your feelings are still what they were last April, tell me so at once. My affections and wishes are unchanged; but one word from you will silence me on this subject for ever."

Fitzwilliam looked down, resigned to his fate, and waited for what he believed could only be another rejection. He dared to glance at her and saw her smiling happily at him.

"Oh, my feelings! My feelings are… I'm ashamed to remember what I said then. My feelings are so different. In fact, they are quite the opposite."

It is not possible! he thought, the opposite? Does this mean...? A look of confusion, and then, of heartfelt delight, diffused over his face. His heart was beating so wildly that he started to pant as he said:

"Elizabeth, do you mean it?"

Elizabeth chuckled. "Yes, I would not trifle with your feelings. My sentiments have undergone so material a change since April as to make me receive with gratitude and pleasure your present assurances."

Fitzwilliam held himself back, for it would not do to take her in his arms, kiss her, and scare her. He felt he wanted to cry of happiness, but as a gentleman does not cry—and especially not in front of a lady—he closed his eyes for a minute and savoured the moment, knowing he would remember it for the rest of his life. He was too overwhelmed by his feelings to speak, and so they walked on without knowing—or caring—in what direction. There was too much to be thought, and felt, and said, to be paying attention to anything else.

"Your aunt was here," Elizabeth said after a while. "I was certain that after seeing me, she would go to you and convince you to stay away from me."

"And you believed she would be successful?" Fitzwilliam asked, surprised, for there was nothing Lady Catherine could have done to keep him from Elizabeth.

"It was natural to suppose that you thought much higher of her ladyship than I do; and it was certain, that in enumerating the miseries of a marriage with one whose immediate connections are so unequal to your own, your aunt would address you on your weakest side. With your notions of dignity, I thought you would probably feel that the arguments, which to me appear weak and ridiculous, contained much good sense and solid reasoning."

He was so astonished, he did not speak, and so, she went on:

"I thought that if you had been wavering before as to what you should do, which has often seemed likely, the advice and entreaty of so near a relation might settle every doubt, and determine you at once to be as happy as dignity unblemished could make you. In that case, you would return no more. Lady Catherine would see you in her way through town; and your engagement to Mr. Bingley of coming again to Netherfield must give way. If, therefore an excuse for not keeping your promise came to Mr. Bingley within a few days, I would have understood it as you making your choice and I would have then given over every expectation, every wish, of your constancy."

"There was no choice in the matter," he finally said, terrified, when he realised how close he had been again to lose her forever. He gave a prayer of thanks to his parents for convincing him and giving him courage this morning when he had hesitated, before he went on: "The only thing that kept me away from you was the knowledge that you wanted me gone."

"Want you gone?" Elizabeth asked, surprised. "Where did you get that idea?"

"You did not even look at me when I was last at Longbourn and you seemed to be avoiding me. I took it as a sign that I made you uncomfortable and left."

"You did make me uncomfortable, but because I was embarrassed by Lydia's behaviour and your having to intervene to save my family. When you left me at the inn I was sure that you were disgusted by my family's behaviour and that I would never see you again. When I found out what you had done for Lydia, I was even more mortified. I felt I owed you too much, and that you had been right about my family's behaviour. And then, there I was! Sister-in-law of your enemy!"

The only thing that Fitzwilliam heard was I felt I owed you too much.

"You... you are not accepting me because of gratitude, are you? Because you feel you owe me?"

Elizabeth chuckled. "Do you think, Mr. Darcy," she teased, "that I am a woman who would give herself out of gratitude? Or as to pay a debt?"

"I do not think so."

"I would not," she replied. "I confess that your actions did carry some weight on my decision, but not in the way you imply."

"In what way, then?"

"Your actions proved to me the kind of man you are. You stood the mortification of having to negotiate with the last man you wished to see in the world, you laid more money than Lydia deserved, and you went for so much trouble in order to restore a young girl's reputation; a young girl whose sister had cruelly rejected and insulted you. But, I would like to know why are you back, now?"

"You were right about something. My aunt did call on me when she returned to London and then, she related her journey to Longbourn, its motive, and the substance of her conversation with you; dwelling emphatically on your every expression, which, in her ladyship's apprehension, peculiarly denoted your perverseness and assurance, in the belief that such a relation would assist her endeavours to obtain that promise from me which you had refused to give. But, unluckily for her ladyship, I may say that her disclosure had quite the opposite effect to the one she intended. It taught me to hope as I had scarcely ever allowed myself to hope before. I knew enough of your disposition to be certain that had you been absolutely, irrevocably decided against me, you would have acknowledged it to Lady Catherine frankly and openly."

Elizabeth coloured and laughed as she replied, "Yes, you know enough of my frankness to believe me capable of that. After abusing you so abominably to your face, I could have no scruple in abusing you to all your relations."

"What did you say of me that I did not deserve? For though your accusations were ill founded, formed on mistaken premises, my behaviour to you at the time had merited the severest reproof. It was unpardonable. I cannot think of it without abhorrence."

"We will not quarrel for the greater share of blame annexed to that evening," said Elizabeth. "The conduct of neither, if strictly examined, will be irreproachable; but since then we have both, I hope, improved in civility."

"I cannot be so easily reconciled to myself. The recollection of what I then said, of my conduct, my manners, my expressions, during the whole of it, is now, and has been many months, inexpressibly painful to me. Your reproof, so well applied, I shall never forget: 'Had you behaved in a more gentlemanlike manner.' Those were your words. You know not, you can scarcely conceive, how they have tortured me; though it was some time, I confess, before I was reasonable enough to allow their justice."

"I was certainly very far from expecting them to make so strong an impression. I had not the smallest idea of their being ever felt in such a way."

"I can easily believe it. You thought me then devoid of every proper feeling, I am sure you did. The turn of your countenance I shall never forget, as you said that I could not have addressed you in any possible way that would induce you to accept me."

"Oh, do not repeat what I then said! These recollections will not do at all. I assure you that I have long been most heartily ashamed of it."

"Did my letter soon make you think better of me? Did you, on reading it, give any credit to its contents?"

"In terms of Mr. Wickham, yes, I believed you immediately. As little as I thought of you, then, I could not believe that you would invent such a thing about your own sister. As for the rest, I did not. I still blamed you for keeping Mr. Bingley from Jane and still did not like my family being so insulted." On seeing his regretful countenance, she added: "But think no more of the letter. The feelings of the person who wrote and the person who received it are now so widely different from what they were then, that every unpleasant circumstance attending it ought to be forgotten. You must learn some of my philosophy. Think only of the past as its remembrance gives you pleasure."

"I cannot give you credit for any philosophy of the kind. Your retrospections must be so totally void of reproach, that the contentment arising from them is not of philosophy, but, what is much better, of ignorance. But with me, it is not so. Painful recollections will intrude, which cannot, which ought not to be repelled. I have been a selfish being all my life, in practice, though not in principle. As a child I was taught what was right, but I was not taught to correct my temper. I was given good principles, but left to follow them in pride and conceit. Unfortunately an only son—for many years an only child—I was spoiled by my beloved parents, who—though good, benevolent, and amiable—taught me how important being a Darcy was, how much I had to honour my bloodline. I thought that meant that everyone else was not worthy. I now realise that one can be proud of one's family without thinking so little of others'. You were absolutely right, Elizabeth. I was proud, conceited, arrogant; I looked down on everyone. I was so, from eight to eight-and-twenty; and such I might still have been but for you, dearest, loveliest Elizabeth! What do I not owe you! You taught me a lesson hard indeed at first, but most advantageous. By you I was properly humbled. I came to you without a doubt of my reception. You showed me how insufficient were all my pretensions to please a woman worthy of being pleased."

Elizabeth blushed and looked away with a smile on her face. For the first time in her life, she felt awfully shy.

"Had you then persuaded yourself that I should?"

"Indeed I had. What will you think of my vanity? I believed you to be wishing, expecting my addresses."

"My manners must have been in fault, but not intentionally, I assure you. I never meant to deceive you, but my spirits often lead me wrong. I never learn!"

"What do you mean?" he asked curiously.

"Well, you have seen how Jane is always so reserved with her feelings. She is always warning me that my liveliness and my teasing is often taken as flirting by men. But I cannot help how I am. How you must have hated me after that evening!"

"Hate you! I was angry, perhaps, at first, but my anger soon began to take a proper direction."

"I am almost afraid of asking what you thought of me when we met at Pemberley. You blamed me for coming?"

"No, indeed, I felt nothing but surprise."

"Your surprise could not be greater than mine in being noticed by you. My conscience told me that I deserved no extraordinary politeness, and I confess that I did not expect to receive more than my due."

"My object then," replied Fitzwilliam, "was to show you, by every civility in my power, that I was not so mean as to resent the past; and I hoped to obtain your forgiveness, to lessen your ill-opinion, by letting you see that your reproofs had been attended to. How soon any other wishes introduced themselves I can hardly tell, but I believe in about half an hour after I had seen you. If it was not my letter... how? when?"

Elizabeth chuckled. "Mmm... when, you ask... I believe I must date it from my first seeing your beautiful grounds at Pemberley."

He laughed, and marvelled in the fact that she was the only woman who could have said such a thing and be disbelieved.

"You laugh, but they are indeed very beautiful and we have already established that I could be happy in Derbyshire and that I am very fond of nature."

Fitzwilliam continued laughing, freeing all the anguish and sorrow in what Elizabeth considered the most beautiful sound she had heard.

"In all seriousness," she said now. "It was at Pemberley, but not truly the grounds or the manor as beautiful as they are."

"Was it the library, then?" he smiled.

"Tempting, Mr. Darcy! Very tempting! But no."

"My sister's new pianoforte?"

Elizabeth laughed, delighted in his teasing.

"Oh, no, I could have access to it by befriending Georgiana."

"Which you already have."

"Indeed, it was Mrs. Reynolds."

"Mrs. Reynolds?!" he asked, astonished. "My housekeeper?"

"The very same!"

Suddenly, he was smiling again. "She is very efficient, but I am surprised you want her as your own housekeeper so much that you would marry me for it. Mrs. Hills seems a very competent housekeeper to me, but if it is Mrs. Reynolds you want, you shall have her, of course."

Elizabeth was laughing merrily now.

"As efficient as I believe Mrs. Reynolds to be, it is not that. She helped me see, for the very first time, that I had been wrong about your character."

"And how did she manage that?"

"She spoke so well of you. She called you the best master and best landlord that ever lived and said that all your servants and tenants admire and respect you for you are a very fair and just master. It was not just her words, but the warmth with which she spoke of you. There was real affection in her tone as she said she had known you since you were four years old and had never had a cross word from you."

"I must raise her pay," Fitzwilliam said, still surprised.

"It would not have mattered if such complimentary words came from your equal, but to have a servant or a tenant... well, I have always believed that it is how one treats his inferiors, not his equals or superiors, that speaks of one's character. Mrs. Reynolds did not need to praise you so much. She could have said nothing or very little, but she spent an hour singing the praises of all the Darcys, but especially yours and Georgiana's. I believe she loves you as her own children. There was a maternal pride in her tone that I found endearing."

Fitzwilliam chuckled. "Yes, she is a very beloved member of our home and she grows more dear to me with each word you say."

She chuckled with him. "It was not just her: your gardiner, your butler, your maids, your footmen..."

"And of course, as kind as you are to servants, you spoke with all of them."

Elizabeth blushed. "I admit I enjoy speaking with servants and make them feel that they are not inferiors, if not socially, at least, as human beings. I have seen them being slighted and treated as they were not people."

He was so touched by her admission, knowing she would be an incredible mistress and landlady, that he took her hand and laced her arm around his as they continued walking. He thought of Miss Bingley and they way she treated her own servants. And she was only one of many who held that belief that servants deserved no respect.

"Did you speak to the servants of other houses you visited on your trip?"

"Of course! I spoke with every servant I encountered in each fine house richly furnished I entered."

He smiled so tenderly and affectionately at her that he took her breath away. He looked back ahead of them, and when he could not see either Bingley nor Miss Bennet, he led Elizabeth to one side of the road and suddenly, he knelt down.

"What are you doing?" Elizabeth asked as he took her hand.

"What do you believe I am doing, lovely Elizabeth?" he smiled up to her.

"This is not necessary."

"Oh, it is, for two reasons: one, you deserve a proper proposal after my disastrous one at Hunsford, and two, what will you tell our children when they ask how did I propose?"

Elizabeth beamed, and blushed, at the mention of their children.

"Well, then, I suppose that for the sake of our children, you must."

"Elizabeth," he whispered tenderly, "I thought I loved you in April. I was sure of it for I could not go a single hour without thinking of you. But I did not love you as I should have. I did not know then, that love requires one to open their hearts' completely. I did not know that true love is selfless, without pride or prejudice, without arrogance and superiority. I truly began to love you—as I did not even know I was capable of—when I started to respect you as I always should have; when I saw that your worth was superior to mine, and not the other way around. When I truly saw you, your soul and your heart, not only your body and mind, that was when I knew love," Fitzwilliam confessed. Elizabeth's eyes were teary as he continued: "And then, I knew I had lost you forever. It was the worst kind of torture and agony I have ever experienced. You made me realise that I had become a man I did not wish to be. You stood up to me, so bereft of fear, so confident in your worth, and held a mirror in front of me. Because of you, I am the man kneeling at your feet. You are the making of me, Elizabeth. I am yours to command. If you marry me, I will spend the rest of my life trying to be a man worthy of you, and trying to make you as happy as you make me. I want nothing more in the world than to have you, and only you, as my wife, as the mother of my children, as future mistress of Pemberley. I want you to be my equal, my partner in life. You are worthy of everything I have to give you and more. I love you now, Elizabeth, with each beat of my heart. Would you do me the honour of accepting me as your husband?"

Elizabeth's smile and teary eyes were answer enough, but still she said:

"Yes, Mr. Darcy, I will gladly marry you."

Although he had already known the answer, Fitzwilliam's heart filled with joy at hearing the words he had thought he would never hear. He wanted to take her into his arms and kiss her, but not wanting to risk this new found agreement between them, he merely reached into his coat pocket and, beaming at her, presented her with the ring.

"This is the ring my great grandfather gave to his future wife as a betrothal present. It has been worn by three generations of Darcy's brides and mistresses of Pemberley: my great grandmother, my grandmother, and my mother, and now, you. Would you wear it, Elizabeth, and take you place as future mistress of my home?"

Elizabeth looked down at the big emerald stone surrounded by small diamonds in a gold ring, and she was stunned. Never in her life had she imagined she would ever have such a thing on her finger!

"Shouldn't your mother wear it as current mistress of Pemberley?" she asked softly.

"She has given the ring to me willingly, without my asking, for you to wear," he told her.

"Truly?" she asked surprised. "I knew you parents liked me, but I did not know if they would like me as your wife and not only as a friend to Georgiana."

Fitzwilliam chuckled. "Believe me, they do."

She was gratified by this. This gesture by his mother and the fact that it was an heirloom made the ring more valuable to her than emeralds and diamonds ever could.

"Will you wear it, Elizabeth?" Fitzwilliam asked again.

"Yes," she smiled, "I will."

Fitzwilliam smiled as he slid the ring on her finger and was pleased and surprised when it fit perfectly. He raised her hand to his lips and kissed the back of it before he stood up. They laced their arms together and started walking slowly back towards the house.

"I shall have to remove it until you speak to my father," Elizabeth commented.

"Yes, I understand. Sadly, it is too late today to ask for his consent. Would you mind that I do so tomorrow morning?"

"Not at all, though I will have to tell Jane, she knows me too well not to suspect."

"Yes, I thought you might. I would write to my parents, but I would prefer to have Mr. Bennet's permission first. You do not think he will object, do you?"

Elizabeth hesitated for she was aware that no one liked him but Jane; and even feared that his fortune and consequence not be enough to fight such dislike. When she did not reply, Fitzwilliam stopped and turned to her.

"Elizabeth, do you think he will object?!"

"Once he realises that it is my wish to be married to you, no. But he might be hard to persuade of that fact. I... I am afraid I have been rather vocal with my family about my dislike of you."

"And you never mentioned that you changed your mind about me?"

"Well, I would have had to explain many things if I said that. They only know that your family received me and the Gardiners very warmly and that Georgiana and I became friends, but they think your behaviour was as it has ever been. I could not tell them without revealing more that you might wish for them to know. But Papa only wants my happiness. If he can be convinced that I will be happy with you, he will consent."

Although he was still worried about a potential obstacle, Fitzwilliam led Elizabeth back to Longbourn and rode back to Netherfield with Bingley most happily.

"I would like to speak to you before we retire, Bingley," Fitzwilliam told his friend that night.

"Of course, let us have a drink in my study."

Once there, Bingley started pouring his drink with a nervous look on his face.

"What is it?" Fitzwilliam asked amused. "You look as if I were your father about to reprimand you."

"Well, it just that the last time you asked for a private conversation, it was a tiring experience."

To Bingley's astonishment, Fitzwilliam chuckled.

"No, it is nothing like that. I bring good news now," he beamed.

He had been hiding his feelings from everyone, but Elizabeth, all day—for he wanted to speak to Mr. Bennet before announcing his happiness to the world. And even with Elizabeth, he had repressed himself so as not to overwhelm her. Now, he could not hide it as well as he had done in the course of the day; he was tired, happy, and emotionally exhausted from so many feelings. He needed to tell someone and he trusted Bingley's discretion.

"Actually, my news are so good, they will bring much happiness to you, too, I believe. For as a good friend of mine, you will rejoice in my happiness."

"Indeed, I will! I do not know what it is," Bingley beamed, "but from the look on your face, it must be extremely good! Tell me once and for all! Do not keep me in suspense!"

Bingley handed a glass of port to Fitzwilliam and sat down, a smile still gracing his lips as he waited with as much patience as he could gather.

"I am engaged to be married," Fitzwilliam grinned. Oh, how good it felt to say the words out loud!

Bingley's smile disappeared as a look of worry replaced it.

"Engaged?" And then he seemed to think of something. "Oh, no. Fitzwilliam," he said, with much feeling, as he only used his friend's Christian name at such special occasions. "Tell me you did not attach yourself to a wealthy heiress in London, someone you could not love. After finding the rewards of love myself, I do not wish to see you in a loveless marriage."

Fitzwilliam was touched by his friend's concern, but could not quite erase the grin from his face.

"Tell me, my friend, do I look like a man who is marrying for financial reasons, or a man in love?"

Bingley looked at his friend's expression and realised Fitzwilliam was right. There was too much happiness on his face to be a marriage of convenience.

"You are in love," he said, and it was not a question.

"Yes."

"Who is she?"

"The most wonderful woman that I have ever met."

"Do I know her?"

"I would assume you do! You shall be her brother."

"Brother?" Bingley jumped from his seat. "A Miss Bennet, then? There is Elizabeth, Mary and Kitty," he thought out loud. "The most logical answer would be Elizabeth, but I know it cannot be Elizabeth."

"Why not?" Fitzwilliam asked, amused.

"You two hate each other!"

"We do not," he almost laughed. "There was a time when she was not very fond of me, but somehow, she seems to have changed her opinion."

"And you? When did you change your opinion?"

"I did not. I cannot remember a moment when I did not love her."

"But you argued with her half the time and then ignored her the other half."

"I was fighting myself, stupidly, I later found. But I have loved her for as long as you have loved your Miss Bennet."

"Oh, we shall be brothers!" Bingley grinned now.

"Indeed."

"Oh, this is better than what I envisioned; our wives shall be sisters. I did detect some of your attentions to Elizabeth when we were at Pemberley, but after your behaviour in Hertfordshire and your comments about her, I thought you were encouraging her friendship with Miss Darcy!"

"I was, but I also wanted to further my own cause."

Bingley chuckled. "I suppose you did. Then, I was very distracted trying to keep Caroline from misbehaving even more than she already had. I paid little attention to you and Elizabeth." He poured another drink. "Wait! What about the things you said about the Bennets when you were trying to keep me from Jane? They are still poor, unconnected, and vulgar."

"Oh, God! Forget everything I said, Bingley! I was fighting my own feelings and I was a proud, arrogant idiot who believed money was the only thing that mattered in marriage. Having seen my parents' marriage, I should have known better. But you, my friend, were right all along. Where there is love, nothing else should matter."

"Well, I am extremely happy for both of us," Bingley smiled.

"And so am I."


I do not own any Pride and Prejudice properties, nor do I make any money from the writing of this story.

Characters and situations, created by Jane Austen, are taken from Pride and Prejudice and from the Pride and Prejudice (1995) adaptation created by Simon Langton and distributed by BBC.

This story is released under the GPL/CC BY: verbatim copying and distribution of this entire work are permitted worldwide, without royalty, in any medium, provided attribution is preserved.