Chapter Fifteen

Over the course of the following few weeks, I think I was happier than I ever had been before.

While Mr. Darcy still maintained the general separation so far as to not invite me to dine with him and Georgiana, he called me and Catherine to join them in the drawing room every evening. We talked, and laughed and played, and it felt to me almost as though we were a family.

There is still in my heart a catch, a sense of longing and intense happiness when I think about those happy few weeks after my return to Pemberley — in the youth of a woman there will be those blooming periods of happiness when she is in love, and when she is allowed to be in close companionship with he who she loves. This was such a time for me, and as I knew it could not last forever, I clung to the happiness of those days all the more tightly.

One lovely day, when I had been home for a month, I went out to take a walk in the evening.

It was a few days before Midsummer, and the light still glowed yellow though it was late. I walked in the gardens of Pemberley, along tree shaded paths, through arbors and tunnels covered with vines and flowers. Birds and squirrels hopping to and fro accompanied me.

My heart was full that day.

I heard the warble of a nightingale as the sun set, beautifully, and as the air stilled.

And I stopped and tilted my head to listen carefully to that sweet tone. And then when silence fell once more, and the only sound was the chirping of insects, I began to walk forward again, along the pathway.

Night had fallen, but it was not dark as a large moon stood high in the sky, and I could still see the path clearly enough beneath me to walk.

I heard the sound of softly booted footsteps. A strong, resolute stride.

Mr. Darcy.

I looked about, and seeing him I hurried to his side with a smile. He was examining a butterfly that had alighted on a large yellowish flower. We both studied it together, smiling until it stretched its wings and flew away.

He straightened up and offered me his arm. "Stroll with me tonight, Elizabeth. The beauty of the night is too great to sit inside."

The words were simple, but there was a catch in his voice. I felt it in my stomach, that his manner and attitude were different than usual.

We strolled quietly for a few minutes.

When we passed by a large fountain, the water burbled from the mouth of a marble nymph into the basin. Darcy cleared his throat.

I looked at him waiting.

He took a deep breath and studied my face. He was pale in the moonlight, his eyes invisible pits. His expression was serious.

He took another deep breath.

"Mr. Darcy, what bothers you? You can say anything to me — I will listen."

His lips remained pursed. He closed his eyes and breathed deeply again. He kept the breath inhaled, the eyes closed.

I was suddenly aware of the privacy of this moment. The quietness around us. No human sound was audible, just the burbling of the fountain.

"Elizabeth." My name was resonant on his voice. "Elizabeth, I have waited too long — but my feelings will not be repressed. You must…" He paused. He clenched his fist and then unclenched it. Twice. His voice was strained. "Elizabeth, you must allow me to tell you how much I admire and love you."

I had never thought he would say such a thing, and yet I had expected it since he found me this evening. Perhaps I had expected this since he greeted me smiling as he sat on the stile when I returned from Hertfordshire.

I tried to reply, but I squeaked instead.

He took my hands, and held one against his breast. His heart beat furiously underneath the thin summer cloth. "Elizabeth, will you—" His voice cracked, and squeaked as mine had. "The deuce! It is difficult to speak, when my heart is so full. Marry me. Elizabeth, marry me. Consent to be mine. Consent to be my companion to — Oh I beg you. My heart aches to see you so beautiful in the moonlight. Your eyes so wide, and your skin so clear, and your hair appears raven or jet in this moonlight — it pangs in my breast to look upon you and to not know that you will be mine, mine forever, in such a way that no man, no consideration, no tormenting thoughts or persons can ever separate us."

I wished to speak, to throw my arms around him, and tell him yes.

I hesitated, though I knew not why.

"What is that look in your eyes, Elizabeth? Do you doubt me? — You must know. Know that my honor… my affection for you is true — answer something. Even if it be no. I cannot bear your silent eyes; it is as though they accuse me."

"Mr. Darcy… I love you as well. Surely you must have seen that."

He pulled the hand he'd held against his chest to his lips, and kissed my palm sweetly. He exhaled in relief. "Then say you'll marry me — say you'll be mine."

"Why? Why — be honest, do you truly wish to marry me?"

"How can you ask such a question?"

"I… I have thought before that you wished to marry me."

"Yes, I have — since that first evening when we talked together, and you showed me how dearly you love to argue."

"And I am now still a disputatious maiden — I must understand!"

Darcy's face lost all expression. "Ask me then. Ask me any question."

My heart was beating hard. Why did I not simply embrace him? What did I need to hear?

"How long have you thought of marrying me, as a serious notion?"

Darcy mulled that question over. He seemed pleased by it. "Since March I believe — I believe since you enjoined me to treat Cathy more kindly, and I told you the tale of my first marriage. There was something in your eyes as I recounted that story — I am a private man. I do not believe I have ever spoken so much about it to another human."

"In March! — and why? Why did you delay asking me, why did you hesitate to court me for so long?"

Darcy did not reply immediately.

"I know I am poor. I know I have no family standing, and that you shall be shamed before your friends and relations to marry your governess — tell me honestly, will you resent me? You are a man who seeks to avoid those follies that lead one to being made sport of."

Darcy seemed to relax at that speech. "Elizabeth, I could never resent you. I will always treasure every hair upon your head, and every—"

"Hyperbole! Excess of language. I want the truth. I will trust you when you speak to me seriously. You had some conflict — some belief you ought not marry me because of your duty to your family name. To your future fortune. For reasons like those that made your father to convince you to marry… her."

"No — No. Not that."

"Then what — you have had an affection for me… made a pet of me for some time. What has made you hesitate?"

Darcy swallowed. He did not reply. His eyes turned away from me towards the house. His eyes drifted, they drifted as they often did higher, trying to trace the dark lines of the tower, only dimly visible in the night light. The window was closed and dark, as it always was, though candles and lights burned in many other rooms.

"I will not marry you, Mr. Darcy I will not marry you if you cannot tell me that it is your honest, true and unalloyed wish to marry me. I may be poor, but I value myself so highly."

He put his hands on my shoulders and he looked at me directly. "Elizabeth. Look at me. There is nothing — no fragment of my heart does not yearn for you. Not a single iota of my will strains against you. I wish to marry you with everything in my soul, everything in my heart, and every instinct in my mind. I dream of you at night, and I desire you in the day — look at me. My soul is tormented with the need for you, to make you mine. Look at my face. Elizabeth, is this the face of a man who does not love you wholly?"

I looked at his face. It was pale and anguished in the moonlight.

"I beg you, answer me. Answer me before my heart bursts. I am in dread until you tell me — tell me you will live your life with me, tell me you will be my wife. Elizabeth, I beg you."

I was not such a creature as who could resist such need in the voice of the man who I adored and dearly loved.

I embraced Mr. Darcy, and hugged him tight. And I whispered to him, "Yes, yes, a thousand times yes. I will marry you — if only it is your true wish, I wish nothing more than to be your wife, to be your companion."

"And you will be." And so saying he kissed me tightly. He kissed me sweetly. Though decades have passed, I remember the warm taste upon my lips from the first time we kissed. I remember his musky scent that night as vibrantly as I would if it happened last evening.

"I swear this before God," he said fervently, squeezing my small frame against his powerful body as though he were frightened I would turn to vapor and vanish if he did not. "I swear before the whole universe, I will value her, and I will let nothing ever separate us. No, nothing."

We stayed out together, saying little of sense for a few minutes more, but then a summer thunderstorm came, and broke upon us. Giggling and smiling we hurried into the house before either of us was particularly soaked. In the entrance hall Darcy held my hands, and kissed them each before we parted, and I hurried up to bed.

As I drifted to sleep, I realized that he had never told me why he had hesitated.