Page 27 of Elizabeth is not a Bennet
Breakfast Parlor
Pemberley
Early the Next Morning
The fire in the breakfast room was large and warm at Darcy’s back. There was an answering glow of contentment in his heart as he broke his fast, devouring a stack of light and fluffy pancakes, with pots of rich blackberry jam close at hand. He had loved pancakes since he was a child, always looking forward eagerly to the days when the treat would appear on the table. Now he could indulge his tastes as often as he wished, though he had learned to indulge in moderation. Nonetheless, they were a delightful welcome-home breakfast.
He chewed thoughtfully, gazing out the high bank of windows opposite his seat. He could certainly wish for nicer welcome-home weather. Gray clouds hung low in the sky like undyed wool, barely letting through the sun that had started to warm and melt the snow outside. Last night’s white wonderland had turned slushy and messy, with hints of dead brown flora peeking through. A stab of disappointment went through Darcy – he had so hoped to take a stroll around Pemberley’s grounds this morning. Business beckoned to him; the cares and needs of his tenants, letters from his man of business, ledgers and accounts from his steward, all in neat piles on his desk, all awaiting his attention. But the siren song of a redheaded lady with fine eyes called louder, and his heart thudded with the anticipation of asking her to wed him.
The door opened and he looked up, startled and then delighted. It was Miss Stowe, dressed in a simple, sensible blue gown with long sleeves with but a few white knots of lace for decoration. It looked wonderful on her, but then Darcy was of the view that everything looked wonderful on the lady he adored.
“Mr. Darcy,” she said happily. “Good morning!”
He had risen at her entrance and beamed at her. “Good morning, Miss Stowe. I am surprised to see you here so early, but very pleased as well.”
“I have always been an early bird,” Elizabeth explained, making her way over to the buffet. “As soon as the sun peeks over the horizon, I tend to wake up, though if I have danced into the wee hours, I can generally get back to sleep. In any case, I enjoy my time here at Pemberley so much that I have no desire to sleep any more.”
“You wish to visit the library, perhaps?” he teased .
“The library, yes, and the conservatory, and again, the library,” she replied with a chuckle, and then turned her attention on the window panes.
“I am hoping,” she continued wistfully, “that I might be able to go for a walk today. Miss Darcy, and Mrs. Annesley, and Mary, and all your servants are so concerned about my safety that I have not stirred outside since Colonel Fitzwilliam left. I appreciate their care, but oh, how I long for a brisk walk!”
“I would be pleased to escort you outside,” Darcy said eagerly, “though the weather is not particularly pleasant.”
“There is nothing wrong with melting snow.”
“Then when you have finished breaking your fast, shall we take a walk through the rose garden?”
“I would greatly enjoy that!”
/
Rose Garden
Pemberley
Half an Hour Late r
Owing to their dark color, the flagstones of the rose garden paths were not, at least, icy; the wan sunlight warmed them just enough. Gray and white heaps of half-melted snow mounded to either side of the path, bare rosebushes thrusting up through the drifts and blankets like spear-points atop a hill. Birds and beasts alike hid in their nests and burrows, and not even a breeze stirred cold twigs or brushed gray stone walls.
Only the two walkers brought spots of color to the dreary garden. Elizabeth’s bright hair was concealed by a sensible hat, but the green of her pelisse harkened to balmier days when the slumbering bushes would be covered with verdant leaves, and Darcy’s blue coat glowed among his monochrome surroundings. The sound of their footsteps, clicking boot heels, echoed off the walls surrounding them and the back of the house close against the garden.
Elizabeth’s eyes were bright, the tip of her nose red with cold as she looked around. The garden was not prepossessing, with none of its springtime and summer beauty, but as Darcy watched her, she took deep breaths of the crisp clean air. He glanced about the garden as well – even if someone knew she was here, which was unlikely, it would be difficult for an assassin to slip past the watching windows of Pemberley and through the walls of the enclosed garden. If these obstacles were surmounted, however, it would have to be a clever assassin indeed to not be seen by Darcy himself, alert for any movement or flash of color.
In fact, the only movement was that of the clouds above them, peeking open a tiny bit to allow a ray of sunlight through. Elizabeth tilted her face into the warmth momentarily, the garden serene under this kinder light.
“Miss Stowe,” Darcy said, unable to wait any longer.
She turned to him, her dark eyes glowing, her cheeks slightly flushed, a few wisps of red curls escaping from her hat. “Yes, Mr. Darcy?”
He suddenly found his throat clogged, and for a moment he could only stare at her, wide eyed and somehow terrified. What if she did not want to be his wife? How could he live without her?
“Mr. Darcy, is something wrong?” she asked, now concerned.
“No,” he said and reached out to take her gloved hands in his own larger ones. “No. Miss Stowe, the moment I first laid eyes on you, I felt a strong attraction, one that I had never experienced before in all of my life. In the days since we first met, my attraction, my respect, my love for you has only grown. I missed you every hour of every day since we parted, and I do not wish to ever be parted again. Miss Elizabeth Stowe, will you accept my hand in marriage?”
She stared at him, her lips parted slightly, her eyes dark with intensity. “Mr. Darcy, I love you as well, so very much, and I would wish for nothing more than to be your wife.”
His face lit up at these words, only to fall again when she gently removed her hands from his and said, “But I do worry about you, and your dear sister and family. What of the person or persons attempting to take my life? Will you not be in danger if we wed?”
“Miss Stowe,” he returned passionately, “Elizabeth! I promise that if you will accept my hand in marriage, all that I have, my wealth, my intelligence, and my strength will serve to keep you safe. I beg you to let me love, care for, and protect you.”
She continued gazing at him intently and then a smile broke out, and he felt his chest thump with anticipation.
“I have every confidence in your abilities, Mr. Darcy, and yes, I accept your offer of marriage.”
His breath came out in a great whoosh, and he found himself pulling her close in order to plant a kiss on her rosy lips. She responded with enthusiasm, and both were beaming when they separated .
“I love you, Elizabeth,” he said simply.
“I love you too, Fitzwilliam Darcy.”
/
The Blue Sitting Room
Pemberley
An Hour Later
Book, yarn, needles, and fabric lay cast aside, where moments before they had wholly absorbed attention. Now the women were entirely focused on other matters, Mary’s eyes bright and Mrs. Annesley beaming and Georgiana bouncing on her toes, trying hard to restrain her joy, her eyes sparkling and roses in her cheeks.
“Oh Brother, Miss Stowe, congratulations!” she cried out, her soft blue eyes glowing. “Oh, I am so very happy!”
“I believe it is appropriate to call me Elizabeth now,” Miss Stowe said and stepped forward to pull the younger, taller girl into her arms. “I hope that you are happy we will soon be sisters. ”
“Oh Miss … oh Elizabeth, truly I have never been so happy in my life!” Georgiana sobbed. “To have a sister at last!”
“I am happy as well, Lizzy,” Mary said, quietly but with obvious pleasure.
“Thank you, Mary,” Elizabeth replied, releasing Georgiana to embrace her cousin.
“When will you marry, Brother?” Georgiana asked eagerly.
Darcy, who had been slightly nervous about his sister’s response to such a sudden engagement, said, “As quickly as possible, given Elizabeth’s unusual circumstances.”
“What circumstances?” his sister asked with a puzzled frown, and then her expression cleared. “Oh, about the Scottish estate, and your wicked stepmother…”
“Or wicked half-brother,” Elizabeth said with a shrug. “But yes, exactly, it would likely not be safe for me to return to Longbourn, and the settlements...”
She trailed off and produced a rather adorable pout. “It is irritating, as I would marry your brother tomorrow if I could.”
Darcy could not help but sweep forward and kiss her again, which provoked a gasp from Mary, a nervous giggle from Georgiana, and a look of indulgence from Mrs. Annesley.
“We will wed soon, Elizabeth,” he murmured when he could speak. “I promise.”