A/N
If it so Happened - Story 2, Ch 8 and 9
Second posting for today.
Cheers
N
If It So Happened
In Mr Darcy's Shoes
Chapter 8
As the first set was being formed, Mr Bennet approached his wife and asked to stand up with her.
"Why, Mr Bennet, how kind of you to remember that I dearly love to dance." The lady smiled merrily, and her husband sighed as the twinkle in her eyes reminded him of times gone by.
"I am growing old, madam. Do forgive me if sometimes my memory fails me and I do not remember things that I should."
Mrs Bennet laughed, but before she could respond, the dance forced them to part ways. When they came back together, Mr Bennet said, "Fanny, I need your help tonight."
"Help with what, Mr Bennet?"
"With Jane's future happiness."
"I…I do not understand," Mrs Bennet said uncertainly.
Mr Bennet had been puzzling over what exactly to tell his wife, for all that he had was hearsay and speculation. But an overheard snippet between Miss Bingley and her sister had made him realise that his daughter and his mother had been entirely correct.
"…Mrs Bennet loves her punch. Just ensure that a footman keeps her well supplied with the drink."
"What good will that do?"
"Have you not heard the vulgar manner in which Mrs Bennet airs her aspirations about Charles and Jane? Bolstered by the punch, her words of wisdom are certain to delight Mr Darcy enough to overcome his fascination for Eliza's lovely eyes and be ready to leave this godforsaken place. I am just sorry that the wild younger girls are not here to add to the merriment."
Mr Bennet's lips tightened as he recollected the conversation. "Miss Bingley is not Jane's friend. She wants to separate our daughter and her brother. For that, she has planned to get you drunk to…talk and behave in a manner that is sure to disgust Mr Bingley and Mr Darcy and encourage them to leave this place."
Mrs Bennet's mouth dropped open in shock. "Oh! What a scheming shrew!" Suddenly, a hard glint came into her eyes, and her expression turned grim. "Thomas?"
"Yes, my dear?"
"Tell me how I can ensure that Miss Bingley fails?"
Mr Bennet smiled. "Just stay away from that punch and pretend that today you have come here to learn a few dark secrets about your friends. Speak less and let them talk as much as possible. And under no circumstances should you boast about our hopes for our daughters."
"Hmm…"
"Fanny?" Mr Bennet asked as their dance came to an end.
"Yes, Mr Bennet?"
"I find I am no longer fit enough to ask you to stand up with me for the next set, but would you do me the honour of standing up with me for the supper set?"
"I would be delighted, Mr Bennet."
Darcy smiled to himself as he carried two plates filled with delicacies to the table where Elizabeth sat waiting for him. He truly could not remember a time when he had enjoyed a ball more than he had today, and certainly it was because of the company — Elizabeth's company to be precise. The evening had started on an excellent note when she had informed him about Wickham running away like the rat he was.
Then he had had the pleasure of dancing with Elizabeth. He had the habit of staying mostly silent while dancing. With her too he had been content to savour her presence, but she would not have it.
His smile widened as he remembered her playful words. "Mr Darcy, we must have some conversation."
Her eyes had been glinting with laughter, and he had discovered he could not suspend any of her pleasures. Consequently, he now knew that like him she preferred poetry to prose and unlike him preferred the Bard's tragedies to his comedies.
He had come to the ball ready to grit his teeth and pretend nonchalance when Elizabeth's mother and sisters behaved improperly, as was their wont. Most surprisingly, Mrs Bennet was behaving so charmingly that he could not help but wonder whether at the time Miss Lydia had suffered an injury to her ankle, her mother had suffered an injury to her head!
Apart from being forced to listen to Miss Bingley's complaints during his duty dance with her and seeing Elizabeth's feet being attacked by the bumbling Collins, the evening had been as perfect as it could be. And it became still more perfect when Elizabeth welcomed him with a broad smile when he came to sit by her.
"Fanny, if I have not m-missed my guess, we shall be soon having a cebe…ceble… cel…e…bration for dear Jane and Mr Bingley's future feli…city."
Darcy stared at Lady Lucas in some consternation. It appeared that she had indulged a little too much in the punch.
Mrs Bennet replied to her friend equally loudly. "My dear Lady Lucas, a mother's heart can only hope and pray for the felicity of her child, but I cannot begin to claim what I do not know as yet. It would not be fair on the young people."
Elizabeth's and Darcy's mouths dropped open in unison as they stared at the Bennet matriarch.
But Mrs Bennet was not yet finished. "Sometimes, I feel impatient for Jane to find her happiness, but then I tell myself, we cannot hurry these things!"
"You must give my love to your father, Lizzy." Elizabeth nearly jumped out of her chair at her grandmother's voice. Luckily for her, Mr Darcy was still staring at her mother.
"Grandmama! What are you doing?"
"Sorry, Lizzy, I could not help myself from sharing my glee with you. Just look at that Bingley witch. She looks as sour as a lemon. For that matter, even our boy looks astonished. Au revoir, my dear!"
Elizabeth looked curiously at Miss Bingley. Seeing that her grandmother was right, she turned to look at Mr Darcy and giggled. Mr Darcy was still staring in amazement at her mother and had just dipped the chicken on his fork into the delicious chocolate sauce instead of the intended mustard — and taken a bite.
Darcy came out of his trance at the happy sound and turned to look enquiringly at Elizabeth. Then he grimaced at the loathsome taste in his mouth.
"Is this a new method of consuming devilled chicken?" Elizabeth asked innocently, her eyes dancing with mischief. Darcy flushed and looked away. It was clear she had caught his surprise and the reason. Then the humour of the situation struck him, and he peered at her only to find her grinning at him, eyes still brimming with laughter.
"Um…I do try to experiment with my food sometimes, Miss Elizabeth."
"Oh, of course, I should have known." Elizabeth nodded, trying hard to adopt a serious mien.
"Yes…and if you are similarly adventurous with your palate, I would like to tell you…" He broke off to take a large gulp of his wine.
"Yes?" Elizabeth prompted, her eyes wide with interest.
"…that please, under no circumstances try this combination. It is intolerable," Darcy said with great feeling, his nose wrinkling in disgust. Then his eyes met Elizabeth's, and they both burst out laughing.
The good folks of Meryton had observed quite a few interesting, gossip-worthy happenings at the ball that evening. Not only had Mr Bingley opened the ball with Jane Bennet, but his dour friend Mr Darcy had also opened the ball with a Bennet girl. And here everyone had believed that Lizzy and Mr Darcy hated each other. Then Mr Bennet and Mrs Bennet were seen dancing together for the first time in years! And if that were not enough, now Mr Darcy and Lizzy were sitting at the supper table giggling like carefree adolescents!
After supper, there was talk of some singing, and Mary immediately got up to perform. But before she could start her song, Mr Bennet addressed her. "Mary, my dear, could you and Elizabeth perform the duet that is a favourite of mine?"
Even as Mary wondered what on earth her father was talking about, Elizabeth went to her and quietly suggested a duet they performed often at home.
The recital was more than tolerable. Mary's voice on its own was a little weak for a long solo performance, but with Elizabeth to lend support in a few tricky portions, she was able to carry her part with aplomb.
Darcy was enjoying the song when Bingley came to him. "Darcy, I need to ask you something."
"Hmm?" Darcy asked absentmindedly, even as he continued to appreciate Elizabeth enjoying her own performance.
"I want to ask Miss Bennet to marry me before I leave for London tomorrow," Bingley said baldly.
Darcy's head whipped round at that, and he stared at his friend. "Then why do you not?" he asked curiously.
It was now Bingley's turn to stare at his friend. "I…I was worried I might be hurrying things, and Miss Bennet might not be ready for my addresses. I had decided to wait until I returned from London…but then…I started having this strange restlessness…as if something would go wrong if I left it too late, and well…here I am, asking the one person whom I trust most in my life."
For a brief moment, Darcy went absolutely still at that statement. Then he slowly looked around the ballroom. He saw Miss Elizabeth and Miss Mary smiling at each other as they sang. He saw Mr and Mrs Bennet sitting together, listening to their daughters with identically proud smiles. He saw Miss Bingley staring discontentedly at the singers, and finally he saw Jane Bennet staring at Bingley with her lovely blue eyes warm with emotion.
"In matters of the heart, Bingley, one should listen to the heart. Why do you not try what I did just a little while ago. Close your eyes and put that all important question to your heart?" Darcy said with his eyebrows raised enquiringly. Then, smiling at his friend's bemused look, he walked away. A few moments later, he saw Bingley walking purposefully towards Mr Bennet and smiled to himself.
When the Bennet sisters' musical performance ended, there was a big round of applause. Even before it ended, Mrs Bennet was heard loudly requesting Miss Bingley perform next; she was soon seconded by Lady Lucas and other neighbourhood matrons.
Mrs Bennet had seen her husband and Mr Bingley walk out of the drawing room door. If she could arrange it, Miss Bingley would be too busy to ponder the implications of what was obviously happening. She was therefore very glad when Miss Bingley rose from her chair and moved towards the pianoforte.
Miss Bingley had been appalled to see Mr Darcy and Eliza Bennet giggling like mannerless rustics. Her anger had only increased when she saw the man staring approvingly at the brazen hussy as she made an exhibition of herself while singing. Had it been left to her, she would have declared the ball closed and kicked all of these peasants out of her home. Unfortunately, she was too proud of her skills as a hostess to let anything mar what she had so lovingly arranged. So, although she felt like screaming her head off, she got up with a smile and went to perform. She would show these simpletons how an accomplished woman gave a musical performance.
Had she known that her brother was proposing to Jane Bennet as she sang, she would have actually screamed her head off.
When the euphoric Bennets reached Longbourn after the ball, they were surprised to find a sulking Mr Collins. The man had been unusually quiet on the way back, but none of them had had the time or the inclination to question his odd conduct. Jane, their beautiful, kind Jane, was incandescently happy, and by association, so were they all.
As soon as they entered the hall, Mr Collins requested a private audience with Mr Bennet.
Mr Bennet was in an expansive mood, not only because Jane was betrothed but because he had been successful in his scheme. At last, he had taken a small step towards fulfilling his promise to his mother. Consequently, he said jovially, "What is it you want to say, Collins. I am sure you can say it in front of my family. Come into the drawing room and tell us."
Mr Collins's nose flared. "I now understand why your daughters behave the way they do. You and Mrs Bennet are the ones solely responsible for it. You have not taught them the decorum and propriety with which a gentlewoman should behave, and none of them know their proper place!"
This presumptuous statement was met with varied responses from those present in the room. Mr Bennet's brows rose in astonishment, and Mrs Bennet's mouth dropped open in shock. While Jane appeared disconcerted, Elizabeth was amused, and Mary smiled in satisfaction.
"Why, what nerve!" Mrs Bennet began, but Mr Collins was too filled with self-righteous anger to listen.
"I was never so shocked as to see my cousin Elizabeth giggling so brazenly with Mr Darcy. And neither of you bothered to check her disgustingly forward behaviour! And as if that were not enough, Cousin Mary had the temerity to tell me that as a man of God, I should be spending my time praising the Lord and not my noble patroness. She then vulgarly told me that if I spent more time doing the former and less time toadying to Lady Catherine, I would be—"
"I do not understand what the problem is. She is absolutely correct," Mr Bennet interrupted him coldly.
"I happen to agree." Mrs Bennet nodded, her eyes glinting angrily.
Mr Collins had obviously not been expecting such an offhand response to his complaints. Thoroughly disgusted, he puffed out his chest and nearly shouted, "My esteemed father was correct. I should not have shown the kindness of offering you an olive branch!"
It was with difficulty that he prevented himself from shaking a fist at his pesky cousins. "Well, I accept my mistake. Under no circumstances can I maintain cordial relations with those who have no proper feelings and no sense of decorum! I shall be leaving here first thing in the morning."
"Since you have withdrawn your olive branch, I would have expected you to also withdraw yourself from my house with immediate effect."
Elizabeth nearly laughed when she saw the manner in which Mr Collins's eyes bulged at her father's words.
"But I find that I do have some proper feelings and cannot throw you out while it is still dark. But I would request that you please ensure that I do not need to see your face in the morning."
His face contorting angrily, Mr Collins turned and silently stalked out of the drawing room.
Once he was gone, Mr Bennet turned to Mary and was surprised to see her smiling.
"You appear quite pleased with your success, my dear. Would you be so kind as to tell me why you deliberately tried to raise his hackles?"
"I am not sure if any of you noticed, but for some days, Mama has been trying to direct Mr Collins away from Lizzy and in my direction."
Mary glanced quickly at her mother and continued, "Until now he had not taken the bait, but I saw how upset he was tonight to see Lizzy and Mr Darcy giggling together!" Everyone in the room then turned to glance at Elizabeth, and she blushed hotly.
Mary smiled too before adding, "Well…I have no interest in being courted by someone who gives no more importance to choosing a wife than to choosing a handkerchief. He comes here and selects Jane on a Monday, transfers his attentions to Lizzy on a Wednesday, and could have easily been encouraged to transfer them to me on a Friday! Frankly, sir, I could not take the risk of that happening. And the only solution that came to me was to make him angry. Fortunately, I only needed to speak the truth to accomplish that!" She glanced once more at her mother and was secretly relieved to see her appear more thoughtful than angry.
"Well, all I can do is commend you on your resourcefulness!" Mr Bennet grinned, then advised them all to retire for what was left of the night.
The next morning, all of them woke up late, and when they went down to breakfast, they were pleased to find that Mr Collins had indeed withdrawn his annoying presence from Longbourn.
They were still in the dining room discussing the happenings at the ball when Hill came to announce the arrival of Mr Darcy. Elizabeth's heart almost jumped to her throat. Although she had hoped to see him, she had not expected to for at least three days, when Mr Bingley was due to return from London. Well, what else was she to expect? He had never before come to Longbourn on his own.
"Well, let us see what he wants. Please escort him to my study, Hill," Mr Bennet requested.
The Bennet ladies, except Lydia, were in the drawing room when Hill came to inform Elizabeth of the summons to her father's study.
Elizabeth felt almost overcome with a mixture of hope and anxiety as she pondered the reason for the summons. Has he? No…no. He would not behave as precipitately as Mr Bingley, and I do not want him to. It was great fun to match my wits against him last evening, and I would like to know him much better, even though I know our destinies are already intertwined.
"Come in, Lizzy," Mr Bennet called in response to her knock.
She entered and, after a quick smile at Mr Darcy, sat down in the chair indicated by her father.
"Well, Lizzy, without beating around the bush, let me tell you that Darcy here has requested my permission to court you."
Elizabeth gave a slight gasp and then felt happiness rush through her veins at the knowledge. She glanced once more at him, and the softness in his eyes made her feel warm all over, even on a cold November day.
"Knowing what I thought I did about your feelings for each other, I would have said no immediately." Mr Bennet smiled inwardly at the identical dismayed looks in the eyes of the couple sitting in front of him. "But then, as Mary pointed out early this morning, there is this matter of all that giggling last night! So, I thought I had better confirm it with you, Lizzy, before I respond. What say you, my dear, to Mr Darcy's request?"
Elizabeth looked at her father, then turned to Mr Darcy with a mischievous look in her eyes. "I think I would find it tolerable enough to be courted by Mr Darcy."
Mr Darcy burst out laughing even as Mr Bennet's eyebrow shot up in surprise. "Touché, Miss Elizabeth," he said when he had his laughter under control.
Chapter 9
"Why do you think the boy is taking so much time in coming to the point. I was sure he would ask you last evening at Jane and Charles's betrothal party… If today he does not offer for you, I shall have no option left but to start haunting him!"
Elizabeth chuckled at the jest as she critically examined her soul mark in the mirror, visible above the top of her gown, which was lower at the neck than those she usually wore. In front of others, she would keep it hidden under either a shawl or a pelisse. "And you would tell him what, when you haunt him?" she asked her grandmother.
"To stop dilly-dallying and make you an offer immediately. Really, Lizzy, what else would I tell him?"
"You need to calm down, Grandmama. It has only been a fortnight since we began courting. I seem to remember someone telling me how much they enjoyed the period of their courtship and the whole journey of getting to know the one they loved." Elizabeth raised a wry brow at her grandmother.
Although she had asked her grandmother to be patient, if the truth be told, she too hoped that Mr Darcy would soon declare himself. She was now as sure of their felicity as she could be and had the feeling that Mr Darcy was too. Once or twice, she had caught him looking at her in a manner that had made her want to dissolve into a puddle from some unknown, unfamiliar emotion.
It was almost as if her grandmother could hear her thoughts. "If you could see the way he gazes at you when he thinks no one is looking, you would understand a grandparent's worries!" Elizabeth blushed as her grandmother grumbled.
"And I do not understand what it is you both are learning about each other that you do not already know."
"Well, I naturally cannot speak for him, Grandmama, but yesterday I came to know that he can sew!"
"What?" Mrs Bennet stared at Elizabeth in puzzlement.
"And while I have no desire to make him sew dresses for me," Elizabeth jested, "I was so very touched to know the reason why he learnt the art."
"And why did he?" Mrs Bennet asked curiously.
"Because once, when he took his three-year-old sister on a picnic, he accidentally tore the dress of her doll. Little Georgiana insisted that he must mend it. When he obviously could not, the moppet cried so much that she almost made herself ill. He was just fifteen at the time, Grandmama. The poor boy learnt to sew just to please his little sister!"
"Hmm…" Mrs Bennet's face softened and she smiled, but she could not help having the last word. "But you already knew that he had a soft heart, so what did you actually learn?"
Elizabeth groaned out loud, but before she could say anything, Lydia walked past the closed door of her room shouting, "Lizzy, the gentlemen from Netherfield are here!"
"Well, I shall now leave you in peace, but you have my permission to scare him into hurrying along!"
Elizabeth glanced back to confirm what she knew she would find and could only smile when she was proved right. As was often the case when the two couples went out for a walk, Charles and Jane usually walked much slower than them, and after a while became lost in one of the copses lining the path, in what they perhaps assumed was a surreptitious manner.
Darcy had followed her gaze and took a deep breath of satisfaction when he did not find the betrothed couple behind them.
"Elizabeth?"
"Hmm?"
"Today I discovered a very beautiful place in those woods to the left, and I feel like visiting it again if you are agreeable."
"Let me guess, it is the place where the Meryton stream widens into a natural pool?"
Darcy nodded with a pleased smile.
"Yes, do let us go there. It is one of my favourite places to sit and think," she said as they both changed direction with mutual accord.
Once they reached the picturesque spot, Elizabeth took her usual seat on a boulder. She looked on in surprise when instead of taking a seat himself, Mr Darcy chose to remain standing, or rather pacing agitatedly in front of her.
She was deciding whether to ask him what the matter was when he started speaking.
"I have tried to be patient, Elizabeth. Unlike Bingley, I asked your father for permission to court you because before declaring myself I wanted to show you that I am not irredeemably ill-mannered…that I can behave like a civilised human being when in company. I also wanted you to get to know me a little better. But…as each day passes, I find it more and more difficult to keep up the struggle."
Darcy paused and swallowed, almost afraid to ask her that most important question. What if she asks for time to consider or…heaven forbid, even says no? he thought fearfully, but then he remembered her warm, laughing eyes from when she had agreed to be courted by him, and he took heart.
"I do not know whether I have been sufficiently successful in my attempts to prove that I can act the gentleman I am supposed to be, but I find I can no longer wait to tell you that I love you most ardently, and I cannot conceive of a future that does not have you to share it with me." He paused, then looking straight into her eyes, asked with a rueful smile, "My dearest, loveliest Elizabeth, do you think that you would find the idea of marrying me at least tolerable?"
"No, Mr Darcy, I do not find the idea tolerable at all." As Darcy's expression fell, she rose from the boulder and went to stand before him and smiled mischievously. "Instead, I find the idea completely and utterly handsome enough to tempt me."
It was almost ludicrous the speed with which his face cleared. "Oh, God!" Darcy groaned as he pulled her to him in tight hug. "Elizabeth, you minx! You nearly caused my poor heart to cease beating!" he muttered, his voice raw with emotion.
Elizabeth's smile vanished, and a contrite look came into her eyes. "I am sorry, Mr Darcy. Sometimes my high spirits get the better of me. Please forgive me."
"There is nothing to forgive," he murmured and brushed his lips over her forehead.
"Fitzwilliam," he said after a while.
"Pardon?"
"My name is Fitzwilliam."
"Oh." Elizabeth rested her head on his chest and smiled contentedly, until his next words reminded her of the unpleasant task ahead of her.
"I was so afraid to ask. I did not know if it was the right time or if you would agree…"
Elizabeth sighed and pulled away from him. "But I knew…"
"What did you know?" he prompted when she did not continue.
"I knew that you would ask me to marry you."
"Of course, Elizabeth, when I asked to court you, that is what it meant."
"No, I knew it because I know you are my soul mate."
"Oh! What an absolutely beautiful way to put it." Darcy appeared much struck by her words.
"Fitzwilliam, I…"
"Yes, Elizabeth?" Darcy asked with a delighted smile. It was the first time she had said his given name, and it sounded lovely on her lips.
"I knew that we would marry that fateful night we met in the Netherfield library."
He blinked at her uncomprehendingly. "But how could you have known that?" he asked in puzzlement.
"Because of the soul mark on your forearm."
"S-soul mark? On…my forearm?" He looked as uncomprehending as if she were speaking in a foreign language. That is how my words sound to him, she thought.
"Do you remember how I acted almost like a lunatic that night I saw you dressed…ah…less formally than I was used to?"
Darcy smiled at the careful way she used her words. "How could I forget? You ran away screaming as if I was the devil himself," he said, then added, "Although I take strong exception to the word 'lunatic'."
"Well, I did not run away because of your attire, or the lack of it. I ran away because I was shocked to see the mark — our soul mark — on your forearm."
"Oh, do you mean the strawberry-shaped blemish that I have on my arm?"
"Ha! It seems there are things that you have in common with Mama! She also calls my mark 'the blemish'," Elizabeth said with no little glee.
"Do…do you mean to say you have a mark like mine?"
Instead of answering, Elizabeth went and sat on the boulder once again, knowing full well that the explanations and the belief would both take time. She patted the space next to her in invitation.
Darcy came readily and sat down beside her, then he took her hand in his and held it tightly.
That show of support gave her the courage to continue. "Yes, I do, Fitzwilliam, and my mark is not merely like yours, it is the exact replica. That is how I knew that you and I were soul mates."
Darcy's eyebrow lifted at her words, but Elizabeth was glad to see that he appeared more curious than sceptical.
"So, is your mark also on your arm?"
"N-no…it is not on my arm."
"So where is it? May I see it?"
"Ah…" Elizabeth hesitated. Although she had taken to wearing some of her gowns that were deeper at the front than usual for just this purpose, now that the time had come to show the mark to him, she felt all the embarrassment incumbent with the act.
"If I had been in the habit of wearing the style of gowns my sisters and peers usually wear, I suppose you would have already seen the mark," she said, trying to convince herself more than him, as her hands went to her throat — to the laces of her pelisse.
Finally understanding her embarrassment, Darcy muttered urgently, "Elizabeth, wait! I am sorry, I did not think before asking. Please do not do anything that makes you uncomfortable."
But by then the knots of the tie-strings had already come undone. Darcy almost stopped breathing as he watched the top of her pelisse fall open to reveal the lovely yellow gown underneath, and the mark — visible beyond the edge of her gown, just above her heart.
"Oh!" His eyes widened in wonderment. "You were right, Elizabeth, it is exactly like mine, only a little smaller." Even as he studied the mark in fascination, he observed that the creamy skin around it had acquired a rosy hue. He raised his eyes to her face in puzzlement and saw her face was equally red.
"Oh, I am an idiot," he muttered, his colour as high as hers as he leant forwards to bring the two parts of her pelisse together. But almost as if he could not help himself, he bent his head and brushed his lips over the mark. Even as he felt a quiver pass through her slight frame, he was closing the pelisse and tying the laces securely.
He cleared his throat, then got up and moved away from their makeshift bench in order to behave like the gentleman he prided himself on being.
"How did you come to know about this…this soul mark?"
"My grandmother told me. She also had one. In her family, it has passed from one generation to another through the female line. It skipped a generation, as my father was the only child of his parents."
"Oh…but…if you knew about its significance, why did you run away from me that night in the library?"
Elizabeth grimaced inwardly, knowing that her explanation would be hurtful. "Because I was unable to understand how a man could be my soul mate when he not only did not find me good enough for him but also could not hide his distaste for my family," she said reluctantly.
"I knew it had to be something other than our first meeting!" Darcy exclaimed.
"I am sorry, but I do not understand what you mean."
"The next morning, when we cleared up our misunderstandings and we…ah…took a tentative step towards friendship, it was then I realised the difference in the warmth in your eyes for your friends and a…a veiled hostility for someone who is not." He paused and gave her a rueful smile.
"Our first meeting obviously did not leave you with any warm sentiments for me, but I had a feeling that it was more than just that one meeting. That is why I requested permission to court you, to…show you that I was not such a bad fellow after all."
Elizabeth saw the pain and regret in his eyes, and with a wordless exclamation, she got up and went to him. "There is no question of you being a bad fellow, Fitzwilliam. You are the best man I know, and I say that with the utmost sincerity," she said as she caught hold of his hand comfortingly.
Darcy's eyes eagerly searched hers for the truth of her words. "Elizabeth…" he whispered and caught her to him in a tight embrace when he saw she was sincere.
"Although why you say that I do not know. For the past fortnight, all I have done is been part of a large, boisterous, but warm family," he murmured softly into her neck.
Elizabeth leant back to look him in the eyes. "And you have done so with an openness of heart that has forever earned you a place in mine, especially because I know of your…mostly just reservations about them."
"Oh…" Darcy began, but Elizabeth gently touched a finger to his lips to silence him.
"Although I must say, you have had it quite easy over the past two weeks. Papa and Mama have very thankfully decided that they will not give up either on each other or on us. That has had a very beneficial effect on the atmosphere at Longbourn." Suddenly her eyes twinkled as she looked up at him. "Jane and Mr Bingley's betrothal and our courtship have allayed Mama's fears of ending up in penury, so there is that as well…"
Darcy did not smile. "I feel ashamed that I am realising this only now, but most of us find it all too easy to judge others without even making a cursory attempt to discover why they behave the way they do," he said reflectively.
His words wiped off Elizabeth's smile too, as they reminded her of her grandmother's advice and their subsequent journey. She knew things about him that she had no business knowing. The least she should do was to tell him. Or should she?
Did he really need to know why she had changed her opinion of him? Perhaps not, but she found that she was not comfortable hiding the truth from him. When they started their life together, she did not want such a secret to exist between them.
Darcy came out of his reverie to find Elizabeth looking very solemn. "Elizabeth, is something the matter?" he asked, concerned.
"I have to tell you something, Fitzwilliam," she said solemnly.
"Had I better sit down?" he jested in an attempt to bring back the smile to her eyes.
It did come, but only for a moment. "I think that would be best," she said with a deep sigh.
When they were once again seated on the boulder, Elizabeth began her tale, heartened by the fact that he did not let go of his comforting grip on her hand.
"That night at Netherfield, I could not…accept that you could be my soul mate, and in my agitation, I sought help from the only person who could help me — my grandmother. Thankfully she came and did indeed help me to understand you better."
"Your grandmother? The one with the soul mark? But somehow I got the impression that she was dead." Darcy looked at her enquiringly.
"You are right."
"But then…how did she help? Oh! Did she visit you in a dream or some such thing?"
He was giving her a way to wriggle out of telling the truth, and just for a moment she considered taking it. Then with a sigh she shook her head. "No. I did not have a dream. For some reason, and I think it is to do with me inheriting the mark, I can see and hear my grandmother, as I can you."
Darcy stared at her for a moment, then smiled. "You are joking, of course."
"No, I am not. My grandmother came to visit me that night and made me wear your shoes, metaphorically and literally, to get to know you."
Elizabeth saw him looking at her uncomprehendingly, and she confessed, "She took me to Ashleigh Manor in Wiltshire in the year 1806."
Darcy drew in a sharp breath at that and stared at her in wonder.
"She showed me how a lonely young man, just out of mourning for his father, must feel when he is stabbed in the back by someone he considered to be a friend. She also took me to Ramsgate to show me how you and your sister were once more betrayed by someone who had all the reasons in the world to be grateful to you and your family."
Darcy's eyes were wide with disbelief as he silently sat listening to her reciting facts she could not have known.
Except for the easily visible shock on his face, Elizabeth could not tell how he was feeling about her disclosure. In a bid to achieve an emotional distance between them while telling him the facts, she had withdrawn her hands from his at some point in her recital. Now she sorely missed his comforting hold and the connection it had established.
She sighed unhappily, then spoke again. "Grandmother also made me listen to what you heard as you came into the Meryton assembly that day."
"That does not justify my rudeness to you," he said firmly, finally breaking his shocked silence.
"No, it does not…but it mitigates it." She looked at him and smiled tentatively. "Just a tiny bit."
He smiled but did not say anything further, appearing deep in thought.
"It has been very difficult for me to decide whether to reveal this to you. Honestly, I was… I am scared, but I found that while I feared your response to my disclosures, I feared entering our union with a lie still more."
Darcy looked at her at that and smiled. Then he reached for her hand once more. "Do you think our children will have soul marks?"
Elizabeth hurriedly looked away from him to blink her eyes and dispel the tears that pricked them at the relief that coursed through her at his prosaic words. After a moment, she turned back to him with a smile. "If they inherit it from my grandmother's side, then yes of course there is a high chance that at least one of our daughters will have the m-mark." She blushed and stammered at the look on his face.
"Oh. It is a shame that all our children will not have them."
"Why do you say that?" she asked.
"Because I want all of them to have the happiness and joy I am feeling today," he whispered and leant down to place a kiss on her lips.
For a long while, there was silence. When they parted, Elizabeth smiled up at him. "Not everyone needs a soul mark to be happy, Fitzwilliam. You only have to look at Jane and Mr Bingley to know that."
"Hmm. Speaking of Bingley and your sister, what do you say to a joint wedding with them?"
"Jane has been gently hinting at it ever since you began courting me."
Darcy grinned and stood up. "So has Bingley. I believe we should hurry back to Longbourn, Miss Bennet, and seek your parents' blessing at their earliest convenience."
"By all means, Mr Darcy."
As they were walking back, Elizabeth remembered her grandmother's promise to haunt him if he did not offer for her today, and she chuckled.
"What?"
"You do not know how fortunate you are that you decided to propose to me today, otherwise, Grandmother was determined to haunt you and make you see sense."
"What?" Darcy asked in amused amazement, then looked around hurriedly as a thought struck him.
"Is she here?" he asked in a whisper.
Elizabeth grinned at the comical expression on his face. "No…not as far as I can see."
"Thank God," he muttered.
"Elizabeth?" he said after a moment.
"Yes?"
"Did your grandmother take you back to any other incidents in my life?"
The wild look Elizabeth gave him and the blush on her face were answer enough.
"Elizabeth…" he persisted when she did not answer.
Elizabeth sighed. "She…she showed me how…er…how you saved that girl Peggy from the clutches of that…horrible woman…"
"What?" Darcy stopped walking in shock. Elizabeth stopped too. She winced as she observed his blushing face and angry eyes.
"Is your grandmother mad? How…how dare she take you to such a horrible, demeaning place?" he asked, his face livid.
"She…she wanted to show me the capacity for kindness that you possess."
"Well, really! I am sure I have been kind to a few more people a few more times in my life!"
Elizabeth could not help but laugh at his aggrieved tone, then said placatingly, "To be honest with you, Fitzwilliam, I was shocked and horrified at what I saw there, especially what poor Peggy had gone through. But then…I also saw your honour, your morality, and the soft heart that you have. Do you know…I fell in love with you at the very moment you told your father you could not leave Peggy to suffer any longer."
Darcy saw the adoring look in her eyes, flushed, and glanced away. Finally, he understood why her eyes had softened for him so suddenly after that night. And for that he owed a debt of gratitude to a ghost!
"Elizabeth?"
"Yes?"
"If…if you have been wondering…I…I never went back to such a place again." He looked her straight in the eyes as he spoke.
Elizabeth grinned. "Yes, I heard how your father scolded you that day."
"Hmm…" Darcy smiled ruefully as he caught hold of her hands and placed them over his chest. "You know, for me it was not just a matter of risking my health or…for that matter of morality. Whenever I have thought of marriage, I have wished and prayed for a union of equals, like that of my parents. And for that very reason, whatever I expect from marriage and the woman I love, I have been prepared to offer exactly the same in return — whether it is love or trust, friendship or fidelity, or chastity."
As Elizabeth listened to his beautiful words, they felt almost like a vow, and she could only stare at him spellbound, her heart in her eyes.
"Elizabeth!" he groaned. "Please do not look at me like that!"
"Like what?" she whispered, still staring at him.
"Like you want me to do this," he muttered roughly and bent down to cover her lips with his in a searing kiss.
~§§§~
If It So Happened
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