Chapter 17:

The carriage ride back to Cheapside was filled with less nervous energy than the previous one, and significant less talking. Elizabeth kept an easy conversation with Mrs. Rochester, Mr. Rochester seemed to be lost in his own thoughts. It was hard enough to propose to a young lady, it was even harder to be rejected and then be subjected to an hour carriage ride after such rejection. He did not have any ill feelings towards Miss Elizabeth, on the contrary, he still thought her extraordinary. However, he was a very practical man and though he would have married her knowing that she would not be able to give him her heart completely, he would not wait indefinitely. He thought they were both very rational, one of the things that he liked about Elizabeth, but he thought wryly, she was clearly more of a romantic at heart.

They finally arrived to Cheapside and there was a heavy sigh released from all three riders. Smiles were plastered on everyone's faces. Mr. Rochester got out first, to help Miss Elizabeth. Mrs. Rochester reached for Elizabeth's hand and wished her well. Lizzy was touched by her warm embrace and likewise wished the same for her and her family.

Mr. Rochester offered his hand to Miss Elizabeth, which she gladly took and they stood for an awkward moment in silence, each wanting to say more but not being able to.

"Oh Lizzy!" cried Jane, interrupting the awkward silence, she greeted Mr. Rochester with her eyes and reached for Lizzy's hands, "I must tell you something at once" she said in a hurried voice, trying to sound as discreet as possible.

"It is quite alright Jane, I already know" said Lizzy, looking at Mr. Rochester with a twinkle in her eye. They seemed to be sharing an inside joke and Lizzy was glad that even though he had been rejected, they had remained friends, to whatever extent was possible.

"How?" asked Jane surprised, she looked behind from her sister to Mr. Rochester and noticed the smile between them and feared the worst. Mr. Rochester gave Lizzy a smirk and decided to put Mrs. Bailey out of her misery by ending this most awkward day.

"It has been a pleasure miss Elizabeth, I can say confidently I am a better man for knowing you" he said gallantly, reaching for her hand and kissing it one last time.

"Likewise, Mr. Rochester" she said graciously, curtsying slightly, "A better woman that is" she added with a joke. They parted with smiles and he bowed with his hat, got into his carriage and drove away.

"Come let us go inside" said Jane, still looking at the odd interaction between them. "I found out last night" added Jane hurriedly, as they made the way into the house, helping Lizzy with her coat, Jane had rushed out and was not wearing one.

"Are you not engaged?!" asked Jane incredulously, they were standing by the entrance hall and Jane was staring at Lizzy's tired face, searching for an answer.

"No, I am not" said Lizzy, feeling very tired. Her entire body felt heavy and her mind—she could not think anymore.

"Come let us sit and I shall call for some tea" said Jane sweetly. They entered the drawing room and waited in silence for the tea to come.

"Oh Lizzy!" said Jane, mortified, "I wanted to tell you a soon as I found out, however, I did not know how nor if it would influence your decision with Mr. Rochester. I was sure he would propose and also sure that it would be a good match for you."

"I know, Jane. It is quite alright" said Lizzy, taking a sip from her tea, "It would not have altered my response. Mr. Rochester did propose, you were quite right. And I declined him without knowing Mrs. Darcy had passed. If I had accepted, it would have been because I would have been able to, but I am simply not. I always vowed to always marry for love and after Lydia, I would have settled for marrying for respect. But now that Lydia is settled, you are settled, our family is more or less respectable...I have seen it is possible to have both, love and respect and that is what I want. I do not need to marry."

"Are you going to wait indefinitely?" asked Jane, clearly feeling strongly on the subject. "You did not know Mrs. Darcy had passed, would you have thrown away your future for a mere dream?"

"Dear Jane, I did not judge you for your choice, perhaps in the beginning I did and for that I apologize, but now I respect it and see the wisdom in it. It was wise and true for you. Please do not judge my choice" said Elizabeth solemnly.

Jane opened her mouth as if to refute but she closed it once again, knowing there was nothing to say. Lizzy was right. This was her choice.

"What will you do now?" asked Jane. "Are you going to write to him or go to Pemberley?"

"Oh heavens no!" said Lizzy, laughing, "Most definitely not" she added, shaking her head, "I want to go home to Longbourn."

"And Mr. Darcy?"

"He will find me. We are soul mates Jane, he will find me at the right time" said Elizabeth, "Whether in this life or the next."

"I did not know my dear Lizzy was a poet" teased Jane.

"Nor did I" said Lizzy, taking another sip of her tea. The conversation turned less serious and they discussed Lizzy' trip back home, each lost in her own thoughts though keep a pleasant conversation for the remainder of the afternoon. After a respectable hour of speaking, Elizabeth excused herself and laid down to sleep, feeling the weight of the past four years on her shoulders. She wished she could back in time and accept Mr. Darcy's proposal, avoid Lydia's scandal, not have gone to Pemberley….and before she could finish listing all her regrets, she promptly fell asleep.

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Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy held his son, George, a practice he had since the moment he was born. Even though his son had a wetnurse and a nanny, Fitzwilliam enjoyed holding him in the rocking chair in the nursery, right before he was put to sleep. He would spend almost an hour, rocking and caressing his son, loving every moment he got with this beautiful and tiny infant, who seemed to be growing bigger by the day.

Fitzwilliam's thoughts were interrupted by the nurse, who knocked lightly before entering. He stood up and gave her back the baby, wishing him a good night and exciting the room quickly. He did not like to converse with others—not before and most definitely, not now. He went back to his study, where he picked up his pen and tried writing once again.

He let out a heavy sigh and turned his thoughts to the crumbled pieces of parchment on the floor—one he had written each night since Anne's passing. There was a mutual understanding between Anne and Fitzwilliam, that he did not feel guilt after her passing, for thinking immediately of Elizabeth. He had been faithful to Anne, in action and in thought, trying as hard as he could to not think of Elizabeth during their short three years of marriage. But his heart belonged to Elizabeth, something Anne was aware of and even in their moments of honesty and friendship, Anne never asked for his heart for she knew that it was not his to give.

He was still in full mourning, even if only on the outside, for he had come to terms with Anne's passing and felt at peace with her death. She left happy and he had ensured his cousin's happiness during their short marriage.

He had wanted to run immediately to London, to Elizabeth, but he knew it would seem disrespectful to Anne, for everyone would know he was in full mourning. He thought of writing Elizabeth a letter but he did not know what to say. He wanted to see her and speak with her—and he knew that she was being courted, the thought of her being engaged was torture, though he knew he deserved it for not having been able to come to her first.

He let out a heavy sigh and picked up his pen again, his beautiful and elegant writing filling the pages. He remembered a time when his handwriting was a subject of a conversation between two ladies—one who had captivated his interest from the very first time.

"My dearest Elizabeth,

Please tell me I am not too late. I cannot offer more than a promise until the mourning period is officially over but my heart has been yours since the first moment our eyes met at the Meryton assembly. I could write more, however, I prefer to speak with you in person. I have inquired about you and my cousin notified me that you have returned to Longbourn. I must attend a business meeting in London and I will stop by Meryton afterwards, hoping to see you, even if from afar. If you are available or interested, I shall wait for you on top of the hill by your house, where we once met riding horses when I was Mr. Bingley and you with your sister. I will wait all day...I will wait all of eternity for you.

Yours always,

Fitzwilliam"

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