Page 18 of Mr. Darcy's Storm of Temptation

"Yes, Mama."

The shriek that followed could likely be heard in Meryton. "Mr. Darcy! Ten thousand pounds a year! Oh, Lizzy, and to think you disliked him so much!"

"Opinions can change, Mama," Elizabeth said softly, sinking into a chair as her legs suddenly felt weak.

"But when? How? The last I heard, you could not bear to be in the same room with him!" Mrs. Bennet fanned herself vigorously. "Though I always said you were too hasty in your judgment. Did I not always say Mr. Darcy was a fine gentleman?"

"You said he was proud and disagreeable," Mary interjected. "You said Lizzy was well rid of his attentions."

"Nonsense! I never said any such thing!" Mrs. Bennet insisted. "Oh, what will Lady Lucas say? Her Charlotte married to merely Mr. Collins, while my Lizzy will be mistress of Pemberley!"

Elizabeth closed her eyes, trying to block out her mother's raptures.

The minutes crawled by. Mrs. Bennet alternated between ecstatic proclamations about pin money and wedding clothes, and nervous speculation about what was taking so long. Kitty sulked that Lydia had married first, while seeming oblivious to the fact that Lydia's scandal had nearly prevented this moment.

After what felt like hours but was probably thirty minutes, the study door finally opened. Elizabeth shot to her feet, her heart in her throat. Mr. Bennet emerged first, his expression giving nothing away. Mr. Darcy followed, his eyes immediately seeking Elizabeth's.

"Well, Lizzy," her father said slowly, drawing out the suspense, "it seems you have accepted Mr. Darcy. He has been most eloquent about his feelings and most... illuminating regarding recent events."

"Papa?" Elizabeth could barely breathe.

Mr. Bennet's stern expression cracked into a small smile. "He has also been quite persistent in assuring me that your happiness is his primary concern. So tell me, child, will you be happy with this man?"

"Yes, Papa. Completely happy."

"Then I give my consent, though I confess myself astonished at your change of heart. Mr. Darcy has explained some of it, but you must tell me the rest later."

"You give your consent?" Elizabeth asked breathlessly, needing to hear it again.

"How can I refuse the man who saved us from ruin? Though I confess, child, this is not the match I expected for you. He says you love him?"

"With all my heart, Papa."

Mr. Bennet studied her face, then nodded. "Then I am satisfied. Mr. Darcy, you have my blessing. Though I suspect you paid far more for Lydia's wedding than my brother claimed."

"It was necessary," Mr. Darcy said simply.

"It was a fortune," Mr. Bennet corrected. "But I see it was paid from love, not duty. Very well. When do you wish to marry?"

"Three weeks," Mr. Darcy said immediately, his eyes on Elizabeth. "Considering the situation, it would be best to have the banns read instead of applying for a Special License. That way none can say we did not do things properly. If that is acceptable."

"Three weeks!" Mrs. Bennet shrieked. "Impossible! The clothes, the wedding breakfast, the preparations require months!"

"Mama," Elizabeth interrupted. "Three weeks will be perfect."

Mr. Darcy crossed to her, taking her hands in full view of everyone. "Three weeks," he said softly. "And then nothing will part us again."

8

The three weeksof their engagement passed in a blur of preparations. Mrs. Bennet was in her element, planning the wedding breakfast, Elizabeth's trousseau, and telling everyone in Meryton about her daughter's brilliant match.

"And that magnificent estate!" she exclaimed to anyone who would listen. "Our Lizzy will be mistress of Pemberley!"

Mr. Darcy stayed at Netherfield with Mr. Bingley, who had returned to win Jane. The two couples often met for walks and dinners while stealing what moments they could.

But Elizabeth noticed a new tension in Mr. Darcy. A shadow appeared in his eyes when he thought she was not looking, a hesitation in his manner that had not been there before.

One afternoon, while Jane and Mr. Bingley walked ahead discussing their own wedding plans, their maid trailing at a discreet distance, Elizabeth confronted him about it.