I arrived with my sisters somewhat out of breath after running the half-mile from Rosings like Lydia's famous hoydens (Lydia loves her analogies), only to find the strangest tableau I had ever seen. There were so many outrageous things present I could not even begin to list them. We had all found a last-minute appreciation for decorum, so we walked the last hundred yards or so silently, and heard the entire exchange before any of the players even became aware we were present.
Lizzy in the arms of Fitzwilliam was not as shocking as you might think, since it was a truth universally acknowledged by every female in Rosings except one that it was inevitable… eventually. Regardless of her surname, she was still a Bennet born and bred, so a bit more stubbornness was only to be expected. Of course, the first thing she did is revert to her previous surname, but certainly not her previous dislike of our adopted brother, much to my satisfaction. I was certain things would work out exactly as they should between the two. It was only a matter of time and stubbornness.
She had not bothered to share the news of her annulment with any of us, including the broken sisters judging by Charlotte's look. I would have been most vexed with her, but I could see the sense in it. There was only one person truly entitled to be the first to learn of the news, and he was standing less than a pace in front of her, just smiling enigmatically, the rest of us forgotten.
Charlotte had the biggest smile I had ever seen grace her face after hearing of the demise of Wickham. She even seemed like she would happily forego the pleasure of dispatching him personally. The loss of fear she must have been carrying around like a dead weight these several months left her free… practically ready to float away in the breeze like a daffodil. Of course, that was all exactly as I expected as soon as I heard Mr. Bingley describe the cretin's demise. What I did not expect was to find her with her hand resting in the crook of Richard's arm. It had crept there during the revelation, and I doubt she even noticed it. It would be interesting to see what happened when she did, but I put her out of my mind. I glanced at Lydia and made certain she would keep a close eye on Charlotte.
With my sisters well in hand, I turned my attention to the other newcomer. Charles looked quite different than he had a year and more previously; the last time I saw him. I imagine adversity had me looking different as well, but I could tell he was trying his best not to stare at me, so apparently it had done no harm. I was made of sterner stuff though, and it was he who was out of place, so I simply stared at him with a look that would make a grown man cringe, but he simply stood there and said nothing, just looking at me neutrally, as if he were willing to take anything I had to dish out. He seemed changed, and it took me a few minutes to notice the specific changes, but my curiosity got the best of me and I asked.
"Yes, Mr. Bingley. Do please enlighten us."
He did not wilt under the combined stares of the six Bennet sisters in the least. Perhaps he was now a bit stronger himself, but if so I had no idea why. He said, "Ladies, well met. I am delighted to see you all once again. Lady Catherine, Miss de Bourgh, Miss Bennet, Miss Elizabeth, Miss Mary, Miss Catherine, Miss Lydia, Miss Darcy."
In my surprise I had not even heard the carriage drive up, which made our mad dash through the woods somewhat superfluous but I did not mind. I was just happy that Anne and Aunt were joining us.
I turned my head to nod to Anne who had run up breathlessly, and at Aunt Catherine who was approaching more slowly, leaning heavily on her walking stick. I could see her hip was bothering her again. I looked at Kitty and Mary, and they rushed over to offer assistance. Ordinarily that would have been the duty of the gentlemen, but I had them all where I wanted them and desired answers more than propriety… and besides that, I was uncertain I could pry any of the men out of their current positions without resorting to my commanding voice.
Mr. Bingley was just gathering himself to finally answer my question after being interrupted by the arrival of Anne and Aunt, but I silenced him for a moment to allow them to catch up with the story. Kitty and Mary were assisting Aunt, so they filled her and Anne in on the particulars of what had happened thus far. Anne gasped in surprise, and Aunt just smiled in satisfaction. I loved her more at that moment than I ever had before.
The fact that Fitzwilliam, for our determination to call him 'Darcy' did not survive close scrutiny, was standing less than a pace in front of Elizabeth staring at her was lost on nobody, and I judged that if Elizabeth was allowed some diversion, it was high time I had some as well.
"Brother"
Fitzwilliam managed to tear his eyes off Elizabeth to look in my direction, and I asked sweetly, "You do remember our conversation, do you not? I told you that you could invite Mr. Bingley to ask me to dance. Is this your idea of a dance?"
I admit it probably was not funny to anybody but the two of us and Lizzy, but I had to work with what I had, and I also wanted Charles to know… well, to tell the truth I had no idea what I wanted him to know except that at this particular moment, pending further review, I did not dislike him as much as I probably should.
Fitzwilliam and Elizabeth did remember the conversation, and they both laughed softly, while the rest of the assemblage looked on in confusion.
I wondered what Fitzwilliam would do, but he answered me quite sincerely.
"Jane, the question seems sensible enough, but since I did not in fact invite Bingley, it seems the duty falls to me."
Then he returned his attention to Elizabeth, or I should say the tiny bit of his attention that he had devoted to me and said, "Miss Elizabeth, would you do me the honor of accepting a dance?"
Elizabeth seemed a bit puzzled but played along, asking, "Which dance, Fitzwilliam?"
With a knowing smile, he simply replied, "All of them!"
It may have taken a moment for the true question to percolate through Elizabeth's mind, but once she was aware of what he was truly asking, she answered just as unconventionally… not that there had ever been anything ordinary about the two of them.
She just closed the small gap that had grown between them, wrapped her hands around his head and kissed him. I do not mean she kissed him, I mean SHE KISSED HIM. It would have been more subtle if she had thrown him to the ground and tied him up with a convenient rope. It was the most proprietary act I had ever seen, and left not the slightest doubt in any of the dozen assorted observers where this was going. My brother, not a man in the least big intimidated by the impending leg shackles wrapped his hands around her waist and bid propriety goodbye and good riddance for quite some time. I suspect that by the time the two of them were done with that kiss; their entire lives had been negotiated without a single word.
She at long last released his head, and probably to her surprise found herself standing on top of his boots. She did not seem to mind, so she just wrapped her arms around his waist and put her head on his chest, where we all knew it belonged in the first place. I was just thinking at first that everything with these two was all-or-nothing, but that was not quite right. It was actually all-or-all. There was never any nothing when these two were together. It was fire or ice, love or hatred, success or failure and I was quite satisfied to see which side of the knife blade they had been walking they fell on.
Aunt Catherine arrived not long after that, and surprised us all by simply reaching over and kissing Elizabeth on the cheek, then reaching up on tiptoes to do the same to Fitzwilliam.
Fitzwilliam's coachman appeared right behind her and said, "My lady, your butler was kind enough to have three chairs tossed on top of the coach while you boarded. Would you care to sit?"
It was yet another incongruity, but by that point none of us were bothered by such things, and she once again surprised us by saying, "I thank you for your kindness Mr. Mallory. I believe I shall."
The man held the chair for her, and she sat down gracefully while two other men brought a chair for Anne and another for Elizabeth. Anne sat down gratefully without a second thought, but Elizabeth seemed torn between the chair, and the man that was almost certain to go hunting after the archbishop within the hour. He finally resolved her dilemma by gently disengaging her hands from his waist and pushing her back half a pace. Then with what I am quite certain was a terribly wicked smile, he simply scooped her up by her shoulders and knees, and sat down in the chair with her sitting in his lap. We all laughed until we cried at his antics, before finally turning back to Mr. Bingley.
He was sitting here laughing with the rest of us, and I wondered why exactly we were all still standing here in the lane watching the parsonage burn, but it just seemed the right thing to do. So long as Aunt, Anne and Elizabeth were comfortable, the rest of us were well satisfied.
Elizabeth managed to tear her attention away from Fitzwilliam for a moment, and I wondered how long she had been aware she loved him. Her story of the week before the attack in the parsonage could best be explained by her heart knowing it while her head rebelled, but it could just as easily be explained by me being a silly and romantic girl with fanciful notions; and the both of them being confused about anything and everything. In the end, so long as she was sitting on my brother's lap, and the two most hated men in the world were being converted to ash as we stood there, I was perfectly content with the world in all of its particulars.
Elizabeth, always the one for odd requests, said, "Jane, would you please move one yard to your right."
That was an odd request, but easy enough to accomplish.
She continued, "Mr. Bingley, would you please move one yard to your left and back about half a pace?"
He complied as well, and then she just sniggered like a schoolgirl playing a naughty prank before saying, "Proceed at your leisure, Mr. Bingley."
She looked at her betrothed, for there was not the slightest doubt he was that, and shared a laugh with him. She told him quietly, "The circle is complete, Fitzwilliam."
Not a man for a dozen words when no words were required at all, he just kissed her and smiled the same enigmatic smile.