Page 20 of Epiphany (A Little Bit More Darcy and Elizabeth #2)

19

“Y ou must be relieved that Mr Collins was not kept away by the weather, Miss Lucas,” said Mrs Hurst. “When is your wedding?”

“This Thursday,” Mr Collins answered for her, spraying bits of pastry over the tablecloth as he said it. “I could not have waited a day longer or wished for a more lovely bride.”

Darcy closed his eyes. The entire evening had been torture. For somebody who was determined to keep their engagement a secret, Elizabeth seemed perversely resolved on doing everything in her power to arouse him. Feigning indifference to her allurements had left him with little wit to counter Miss Bingley’s unrelenting advances. He had long since run out of patience for the entire damnable charade, and he certainly had no desire to entertain a discussion about somebody else’s wedding.

“It is fortunate Lizzy refused you, then.”

He looked up sharply. He knew not who had said it—undoubtedly one of Elizabeth’s younger sisters—but he could scarcely contain his indignation. The impropriety of such a remark notwithstanding, he absolutely could not listen to a conversation about somebody else’s wedding to Elizabeth! He took a gulp of his wine and glanced in her direction. He ought not to have been surprised to discover she was laughing. Not aloud, of course, but her entire countenance was aglow with mirth. She lifted her glass to her lips and gave him an arch look over the rim. He remained utterly still, unwilling that any outward trace of the effect her expression had upon him should be visible.

“You are quite right, it is most fortunate. Had Eliza not had the courage to correct Mr Collins’s erroneous belief that he must marry one of his cousins, he would never have had the opportunity to discover his perfect partner in Charlotte,” replied Lady Lucas.

Miss Marysnorted at her dinner plate.

“But just think, Mary,” said Miss Lydia in a whimsical manner, “if Mr Collins had not proposed to Charlotte, then Miss de Bourgh would never have come to Hertfordshire to make her acquaintance, Mr Darcy would never have come to fetch her, and Mr Bingley would never have returned for Jane.”

“And had none of those events occurred, our present circumstances would still be exactly as they are, Lydia,” muttered Mr Bennet with a weary glance at Bingley. “If your sister is Mr Bingley’s perfect partner, he does not yet seem to have noticed.”

Darcy took another sip of his wine in a private toast to that. Would that Bingley could pay as much attention to his courtship as he was to his present discussion with Sir William! Occupied with resenting his friend’s lassitude, Darcy paid little attention to whatever Miss Lucas said in reply to her mother, but his attention was caught, as it always was, when Elizabeth began speaking.

“You once said to me that a woman ought not to be too guarded in her affections, Charlotte. That few people have heart enough to be really in love without encouragement, and she ought to show enough affection to help her admirer on. I laughed at you at the time, but I am beginning to think the theory has merit.”

Darcy’s stomach clenched to see Elizabeth’s gaze fixed upon her eldest sister as she said this. It gave a slightly wild edge to his own impatience to know she was as anxious as he for Miss Bennet to get engaged.

“Why yes,” Miss Lucas replied. “When one’s acquaintance is limited to a few dinners or dance sets, it would be inadvisable to rely solely on the thin chance that one’s wishes will be discovered by accident.”

“Well, we all know you took no such chance,” muttered Mrs Bennet.

Miss Bingley, with a pointed look at her brother, congratulated Miss Lucas for her insight. “By the same token, if a woman shows no signs of affection, it is probable that she does not feel any, and it would be better to give up on the attachment.”

“I cannot agree,” Anne replied. “There is something acutely vulgar about a woman who feels the need to advertise her availability by such means as flattery and deference. It would be far better to remain circumspect.”

His gaze still fixed sullenly on Bingley, Darcy complained, “Subtlety is overrated. In some cases, particularly those where a gentleman might be uncertain of his reception, it is imperative that the lady gives some encouragement.”

These were words he never thought to hear himself say, and he despaired when his friend paid them no heed. He did more than despair when he caught sight of Miss Bingley regarding him with an expression of hopeful delight.

Damn!

She leant towards him slightly with her elbow rested on the table and spoke in an irritatingly silky tone.

“Yes, in some cases, such inducements might be beneficial.”

“Yet, in other cases, they are completely wasted, Miss Bingley,” Anne said sharply, looking askance at Darcy even as she said it. He could hardly explain that he had been trying to provoke Bingley into action, thus he only drank his wine and said nothing.

“What are you talking about at that end of the table that has you all looking so gloomy?” Bingley enquired, taking an interest at last.

“Marriage,” Mr Bennet replied. He put a forkful of food in his mouth and grinned around it. “It has that effect on people.”

“We were discussing the relative advantages and disadvantages of marrying in haste,” Mr Collins said. “The timing of my own happy celebrations was guided by my most estimable patroness, Lady Catherine de Bourgh, who desired that I marry as soon as possible. It is a matter of great honour to me that I have been able to accede to her wishes, and as my dear Miss Lucas assures me, there will be ample time after the ceremony for happiness to firmly establish itself.”

“Fascinating as that is, Mr Collins, such an approach would not suit my brother,” Miss Bingley said. “He is naturally more modest. The sort of person for whom something as momentous as securing a partner should never be hastily undertaken.”

“Well, he can certainly learn from your example there,” Anne snapped.

“Quite so! A precipitate arrangement does not suit everybody,” Mr Collins replied. “The delightful Miss de Bourgh, for example, has enjoyed a life-long engagement to the noble Mr Darcy and without any need to rush into marriage.” He somehow managed to bow to each of them whilst still in his seat.

Darcy had now reached the limit of his patience. Bingley, fully armed with all the facts of Anne’s rejection in London, was openly laughing at him, though one hard glare was enough to curb his amusement. He promptly stopped grinning and suggested to his sisters it was a good time for the ladies to go through. It was with a vast sense of relief that Darcy stood to see them all file out.

“I look forward to playing for you in a short while,” Miss Bingley said in a grossly coquettish manner as she passed him.

Elizabeth said nothing when she went by. Her countenance was a mask, her eyes, usually so expressive, were fixed blankly on the back of the lady in front of her, and her steps were quick as she walked around the table to the door.

It made Darcy’s stomach clench. Never had he seen her thus, and he seriously disliked not knowing what had occasioned it. Yet, as the door swung closed, he ceased attempting to guess, for he saw quite clearly that Elizabeth had walked away from all the other ladies, in the opposite direction to the drawing room. Before the latch clicked home, he had made his excuses and gone in search of her.

“What are you doing in here?” he enquired upon finding her at the library window, peering out into the night. Despite telling himself he had not been concerned, he still felt awash with relief to see the pleasure with which she perceived him when she turned around.

“Escaping. I cannot bear another minute in that woman’s presence.”

He perched on the arm of the chair nearest to her. “Miss Bingley?” She nodded, at which he scoffed and replied, “You and I both.”

He regretted his flippancy when it seemed to reanimate whatever ill-temper had afflicted her in the dining room.

“She is outrageous! She asked me just now whether it was true that you were engaged to your cousin. I would pity her the futility of all her aspirations, except that when I said you were not, she took it as some sort of licence to make that preposterous remark to you on the way out.”

To Darcy’s surprise, for he was used to her being more collected, Elizabeth then affected a mocking tone and parroted Miss Bingley’s promise to play the pianoforte for him. Beginning to suspect the cause of her pique, he felt his pulse quicken and gave in to a small smile.

“Are you jealous, madam?”

“Yes!” she replied instantly, taking him by surprise. “You are to be my husband, and you did not require me to feed you a trail of promises before you would declare yourself. You had heart enough to love me without encouragement. And your regard means infinitely more to me for it. I love you, Fitzwilliam, and I would have the world know it. I am sick of this ridiculous concealment. It was a stupid idea, and I wish I had never suggested it.”

That was more than acceptable to Darcy, though the announcement would have to wait a short while longer because before he let the future Mrs Darcy loose on every unsuspecting woman who ever set her cap for him, he meant to allow her to stake her claim upon him in whichever way she chose. He stood up, putting them toe-to-toe.

“I told you yesterday that I am impatient to read books with you in my library.”

She blinked. “Yes, you did.”

“I lied.”

She did not answer. She only frowned, deepening the delicious crease at the bridge of her nose.

He kissed it. “I would get absolutely nothing read if I had you in my arms.”

She let out a sharp, breathy exhalation, his ardour soared, and for a few heavenly moments they perused none of the library’s shelves, opened none of its books, and read not a single word. Elizabeth kissed him in the way he would have liked to kiss her—hungrily, possessively, passionately. He dared not respond with equal fervour, not yet, but he savoured her exhilarating want of inhibition. Her absolute trust in him transformed what could have been perceived as an egregious transgression into an exquisitely poignant, perfectly natural beginning.

“Come,” he whispered, “let us put an end to this nonsense. I have loved you for too long to keep it a secret anymore.”

* * *

Elizabeth was not quite certain she was ready to be anywhere in company, but Darcy assured her she looked presentable. She took his proffered hand and, ignoring her thundering heart and thoroughly disarrayed thoughts, allowed him to lead her out of the library. With the agreement that they would make their announcement when the men re-joined the ladies, they parted ways in the hall. He returned to the dining room, and she walked on to the drawing room.

The door was slightly ajar, allowing Elizabeth to hear the altercation occurring just on the other side. The voices were not raised—neither much above a whisper—but they were strained, and they belonged to two of the most bellicose members of the group.

“I resent the insinuation, Miss de Bourgh.”

“It was not an insinuation. It was an observation. You are attempting to captivate my cousin with your arts. But I would advise you to desist, Miss Bingley. You are making a fool of yourself.”

“If that were true, he would not have agreed so openly with Miss Lucas’s opinion that women ought to show their affection.”

“If affection was what you felt, I might have more pity for you. But I am not without any , therefore, I shall repeat my advice. You must cease your flirtations for they will bring you nothing but mortification. Mr Darcy is engaged.”

Elizabeth exhaled indignantly, though she knew not with which of them she was more cross.

“I know you are lying,” Miss Bingley replied complacently, drawing a tut and an exasperated sigh from Miss de Bourgh.

“The engagement is of a peculiar kind.”

“Yes, the kind that exists only in your head.”

“He is not engaged to me, you fool. He is engaged to Miss Elizabeth. They have not announced it yet because, for some unfathomable reason, Miss Elizabeth has taken it into her head that it would be kinder to allow her sister to announce her engagement first.”

“In that case,” said a new voice. Jane had interrupted their bickering. “Allow me to put an end to everybody’s distress and?—”

“Miss Elizabeth? What are you doing out here? Has something happened?”

Elizabeth turned around to see Mr Bingley approaching, Darcy frowning in concern at his side, and the rest of the gentlemen following behind them. She looked at him archly, certain from what Jane had begun to say that something of great interest had, indeed, happened.

“I rather think you already know the answer to that.” His expression confirmed it. Elizabeth pushed open the door, allowing all the gentlemen to hear Jane conclude her statement.

“—tell you that Mr Bingley and I are engaged.”

“Are you?” cried both her parents, one on each side of the door.

Elizabeth felt a twinge of guilt for Jane’s surprise at inadvertently announcing her news to far more people than just Miss Bingley and Miss de Bourgh, though she did not worry that it would last long beyond the start of everybody’s congratulations, the commencement of which was heralded by a loud squeal of pleasure from her mother.

Elizabeth hugged her sister tightly, whispering how delighted she was by the news, then she clasped Mr Bingley’s hands and honestly and heartily expressed her joy in the prospect of his being her brother. But as the celebrations quieted, she became aware of how still Darcy was standing, and how intensely incredulity emanated from his rigid frame.

“When did you become engaged?” he enquired stiffly.

“On our walk to fetch the carriage yesterday,” Mr Bingley answered cheerfully. He leant around Jane to peer at Miss de Bourgh. “I must thank you for that, madam.”

Miss de Bourgh inclined her head and smiled knowingly.

“Scheming wretch,” Darcy muttered for Elizabeth’s ears alone. Aloud to his friend, he said, “Why did you not say anything?”

“ You decided we ought to come back after the walk to save the horses, if you recall. Had you not done that, I should have gone directly to speak to Mr Bennet.” Mr Bingley nodded respectfully at his future father but otherwise looked so absurdly pleased with himself that Elizabeth began to question whether his engagement was his only present source of delight. “Why? What is the rush for me to tell anyone?” he added almost gleefully.

Elizabeth comprehended that they were discovered when she saw Jane bite her lips together against a smile. With a broadening grin of her own, she said quietly, “I asked him to wait until you were engaged before we said anything.”

“Said anything about what, Darcy?” Mr Bingley pressed slyly.

With a brief glance seeking her consent, Darcy announced at last, “Elizabeth and I are engaged.”

There was a gasp in the end, though it was not from Mrs Bennet. Miss Bingley, pale and frowning, fell heavily into the nearest chair and clamped her mouth closed. Nobody else made a sound.

“Well?” Elizabeth asked, looking around at her silent friends and family.

“We know,” Jane said quietly.

“We all know, Eliza,” Charlotte repeated. “It was not difficult to guess. A one-eyed partridge with a squint could see how dearly you both love each other.”

“I own, I, too, guessed you had come to an understanding, for I have never seen you happier, Brother,” Miss Darcy agreed.

“I would have guessed,” said Miss de Bourgh, “had you not admitted it to me yourself.”

Elizabeth looked at her father, who shrugged. “I thought it best to tell your mother in case something like this happened, and she made a scene.”

Mrs Bennet winced contritely. “And I might have told your sisters. And my sisters.”

“And me,” said Lady Lucas.

Elizabeth began to laugh.

“You did not need to tell me,” Kitty objected. “I guessed it would happen soon when Mr Darcy threw a snowball at Captain Carter for you. I nearly swooned when I saw it!”

“Mr Hurst and I guessed when Mr Darcy summoned Charles back to Hertfordshire,” said Mrs Hurst, drawing a small cry of disbelief from her sister.

“I am sorry, old fruit,” said Mr Bingley, chuckling. “You have been waiting all this time, and your big announcement was not much of an epiphany, after all.”

Not for a moment did Elizabeth worry that Darcy might begrudge the loss of fanfare. She took heart from his expression of supreme contentment, for she comprehended what it signified. He did not require anybody’s approval of their marriage, only that the world should know about it.

To be cherished in such a way, to be the object of such pride, was the most exquisite feeling. She almost laughed to consider how insufficient all her previous impressions of love had been. Until the moment Darcy had taken her heart into his keeping, she had never had the faintest notion what it truly meant.

“It has been for me,” she replied, smiling up at him. She had an inkling that loving so deep and intricate a character meant her marriage would continue to be revelatory for many happy years to come.

* * *

Darcy House

1 Arlington Street, London

June 1812

Dearest Anne,

I am delighted for you that your mother has been called away again. What a blessed relief that will bring until the time comes for you to join us in town. I hope you will not be too lonely there in the meantime. In your last letter, it seemed as though Mrs Collins was proving to be a stalwart companion. If you can both manage to avoid her husband long enough to get a word in, I am sure you will enjoy some sensible conversation with her.

My brother and sister do exceedingly well. They returned from Pemberley two weeks ago, and we are all settling in well together here. I cannot recall a time when Number One has heard so much laughter. It has gone from the most austere to the most joyful of places. There is only one thing I think could ever improve upon it, but it is a little soon to be wishing for such news. Still, I shall not pretend I do not greatly anticipate becoming an aunt.

Lizzy and Mrs Bingley have helped me choose all my gowns for the coming Season. I enclose some designs that we thought would suit you particularly well and that my brother has promised to have ordered for you as soon as you arrive in London, if you agree. Do not be shocked by our suggestions. Lizzy says she wishes you would cease dressing as though you expect to remain a spinster forever and begin dressing like the handsome, single, young heiress you are. Do not show Lady Catherine if you think she will disapprove. She does not need to know.

I have started to feel more excited about my first Season. With Mrs Annesley, you, and Elizabeth as my chaperons, I shall feel far less afraid. And Brother, Lizzy, and I all practise dancing so often together now that I have quite given up my old worry of tripping over my own feet in front of a crowd of strangers. I hope you will enjoy yourself just as well. We shall make certain not to tire you, and you must only attend parties to which you feel equal, though I am afraid I must insist you attend my ball.

It might please you to know that Lizzy has invited Mr Conrad as well. You must have made quite an impression on him at dinner last month, for he asks after you every time we see him. Brother has not said whether he believes it is a good match, but I am not sure it matters, for Lizzy likes him, and that is often enough to make my brother approve of anything.

Do take care of yourself. I look forward to seeing you very soon,

Much love,

Georgiana

The End