Page 13

11th December 1812, Wednesday

The musicians were playing a lively Scottish reel, and it was not lost on Darcy that it had taken three separate occasions of wanting to dance with Elizabeth and being refused before he could secure her hand in a set.

It was all worth it, however.

Elizabeth danced gracefully, but with a liveliness in her manner which was not often seen in the ballrooms of the haut ton .

She conversed with him every time an opportunity arose, and laughed prettily at their banter.

Her eyes were her most expressive feature, but in the next fifteen minutes, Darcy fell just as deeply in love with the way her lips smiled and formed words, with the way her nose scrunched when she teased him, with the way her cheeks pinked due to exercise and pleasure and dare he even think to contemplate it- him.

“I must admit, I had quite given up the idea of you attending the party, sir.” Elizabeth confessed during the dance when they met up once again after a temporary separation, “I hope you and Mr Bingley were able to conduct your business well?”

“Yes, we managed to finish it quite successfully.” He smiled ruefully, knowing it was unavoidable to mention his friend, “Bingley is a good man, and a very best sort of friend a man like me can ask for. But, he is young still, and in serious and consequently tedious matters of politics or business, he tends to get distracted easily. ”

Elizabeth hummed, her gaze a little shrewd as she observed him and garnered all that he was not saying.

Oh, but Darcy loved how clever she was!

“And what about when it comes to women? Is your friend very likely to get distracted from one woman by another?”

Her question had Darcy biting the inside of his cheek in embarrassment.

He hoped she would not take offence on behalf of her sister.

If this was the last night he was to have with her in god knows how long, he wanted to spend it pleasantly, talking about nobody beside themselves.

Still, he could not very well not answer her.

Remembering Miss Harlson, Miss Abbott, Lady Bancroft, Miss Leplie, Miss Morehouse, Miss Upshaw, Lady Waddingham, Miss Bennet, and the latest, Lady Petunia, Darcy could not, in good conscience, defend his friend and his tendency to ‘fall in love’.

He tried to sheepishly smile at Elizabeth, but when she did not smile in return, he cleared his throat,

“Like I said- Bingley is very young. He wears his heart on his sleeves in most matters, which perhaps, makes it easier for him to give it away so readily. He means no harm by it. I wish you would not take him for a cad. Like every other man in the world, you may suppose that Bingley just appreciates beauty and kind manners.”

“Perhaps.” Elizabeth conceded, “But most men do not, in merely their appreciation, raise the expectations of an entire village with no intention of furthering the connexion.”

With a tilt of his head, Darcy acknowledged that Elizabeth was correct.

Early in their days at Netherfield, Darcy had had every intention of dissuading Bingley from being so obvious in his attentions for Miss Bennet.

If not only to raise expectations, Darcy had thought that the match, considering the family and the lack of dowry attached to the bride, was not good enough for his friend.

But then the Netherfield Ball happened, and suddenly all of his objections against the Bennet family stopped mattering to him and his priority shifted quite drastically from helping his best friend avoid an imprudent union to gaining the hand of the woman he loved .

Darcy could not regret his actions considering all that had happened between himself and Miss Elizabeth since then.

That she was dancing with him now was in and of itself a small miracle.

He did, however, admit that he should’ve kept a closer eye on his friend and his behaviour.

“I hope Miss Bennet was not too injured by the careless actions of my friend.”

Miss Bennet was dancing in the front, though in the crush of people, Darcy could not easily see the man she was dancing with.

“Other than a little town gossip that dissolved fairly quickly once Charlotte’s wedding became the latest news, Jane is little affected, I think.” Elizabeth told him, “She had found Mr Bingley to be very amiable, very handsome, and had confessed to me about seeing a future with him, but she was not in love. I think we have John to thank for that.”

The dance ended and Lizzy and Darcy bowed to each other.

Another man’s christian name from his beloved’s lips grated on him, however, and Darcy found himself escorting Miss Elizabeth towards the refreshments table near the coffee for which the night was still too early to have a crowd around, so that they could talk further with a modicum of privacy,

“John?”

“Sir Lucas’ eldest son. I suppose you could say he was to Jane what Charlotte was to me. A most particular childhood friend. Jane was inconsolable for weeks after John first went away for school.”

To Darcy, who had never seen Jane Bennet do anything but sit quietly and smile serenely, the idea of her being inconsolable over anything seemed a bit of a stretch.

He stayed wisely silent on the matter, however and instead focused on this ‘John’ fellow ,

“A friend of mine is named John Lucas. But then again, those are two fairly common names.”

“Perhaps you do know John. He was in London only until last week.” Elizabeth spoke, then mused, “Although, I’m not quite sure if you’d have run in the same circles. From what I understand, John made most of his fortune from investments in trade and export.”

Unbeknownst to Elizabeth, it was this statement that settled the matter for Darcy, and he looked out into the crowded hall for the familiar face.

He could see the man now, talking to the eldest Miss Bennet with a wide familiar grin on his face and it really was John Lucas.

On any other occasion, Darcy would be eager to reacquaint himself with a close friend, But, like he had thought to himself before - this night, all he wanted was to be with Elizabeth.

"Would you mind… if I asked you to accompany me for a walk in the front gardens?"

He did not bother to think up an excuse.

His mere presence at the party and his dance with Elizabeth had already started rampant gossip between the Meryton matrons from what he could hear.

He did not mind the speculation.

He welcomed it, in fact.

But, he did not know where Elizabeth's heart lay.

She looked surprised at his sudden request, but Darcy could only suppose she had read his intentions and his desperation for some privacy on his face for soon her gaze softened in understanding and she nodded her acceptance,

"I do find myself feeling a little hot in this crush."

Darcy smiled gently at her and offered her his arm, Elizabeth placed her hand upon it and together they quietly made for the outdoors. Not conspicuously enough it would seem, for even as they left, the couple could hear the volume of the sheer surprise and gossip increase behind them .

They stayed in the view of the windows for propriety's sake but for the most part, outside in the cold night, with the garden only dimly lit up with the help of some well placed oil lamps and lanterns, they were alone.

For some long moments, they silently took a turn around the cobblestone set pathway, and though it was not exactly uncomfortable, Elizabeth could not abide by the stretching silence.

Now that he was back, she was finding it harder to not admit to herself how much she had missed him-

"Mr Bingley is not the only one who has recently raised a maiden's hopes with his actions." She admitted quietly, trying to achieve a teasing sort of tone but her hot cheeks betrayed her lack of equanimity.

Darcy stopped, turned so that he was facing her and removed her hand from his arm only to hold it within his,

"Have you? Hoped?" He asked a little gravely, his eyes deep with a yearning so peculiar and strong, Elizabeth found herself catching her breath at the intensity.

She laughed, just a little, for it was embarrassing to be admitting it, but just with his actions tonight, Mr Darcy had been transparent and incredibly obvious about his regard for her. He had come alone, was probably staying at an inn, just so he could dance a set with her at a birthday party of a sixteen year old girl he was barely acquainted with. For her, he bore the scrutiny and speculation of almost every member of a society that was no doubt beneath his own and could only give him discomfort. It would only be fair to even the scales a little.

"I did not think I would miss you as desperately as I did while you were gone."

Elizabeth's cheeks were warm with blush and her mouth felt dry, but Mr Darcy's transformation at her words was much greater. He grinned, wide and boyish and captivating and his eyes shone with both incredulity and joy. He made to speak, but seemed to struggle for words because none came. Instead, Darcy marvelled at the woman in front of him. How did he ever think she held him in any regard at the beginning of their acquaintance when this was what affection looked like on her face? Her eyes, always so lively, so expressive, were warm and soft and sweet as they rested upon his face. In the dead of the night, without the sun to bring out all the different colours that resided in those irises like the northern lights he had witnessed on his trip to Norway, Elizabeth's eyes were like warm chocolate, a balm for his soul in this cold December night.

Darcy avowed himself to memorise that look, and to engrave it in his heart for it would provide him with the fortitude he would desperately need for what was awaiting him at Matlock.

"I cannot stay." he confessed, and watched with some despair as her smile dropped and her eyes dulled,

"Oh?"

Darcy grimaced, "I wish I could- indeed, I can think of nothing that would give me more pleasure but duty calls me to Matlock." He started to explain to her the letter he got that afternoon, then thinking better of it, offered to her the correspondence itself. After a moment of hesitation, Elizabeth took it, her eyes growing wider and more horrified as she read through it,

"Oh! How terrible!"

"I do not know how long it will take me to come back, but I want to promise you that I will," Here, Darcy hesitated, then continued more cautiously ,"If only you would have me. "

Were there tears in her eyes? She was feeling wretched enough to warrant them but then she supposed she had no one to blame but herself for falling in love with such an honourable man,

"You will come?" A tear did fall silently down her cheek. Darcy made a sound at the back of his throat at the sight of it, he had not thought it was in his power to make her cry thusly. The thought gave him no pleasure. Stepping closer, Darcy softly caressed her cheek, brushing the tear away but letting his thumb linger in its place. Elizabeth's eyes closed at the touch as if she was savouring his warmth and Darcy almost crushed her to himself then and there at the sight,

"On my life, I will come back." He vowed, his voice deep and severe in its seriousness.

Elizabeth gave him a trembling smile, and straightening her shoulders in an attempt to recover her usual spirits, she chirped teasingly,

"Then, I would like nothing better than to have you."

Darcy grinned, then unable to help himself, brought her hand that he was holding to place a reverent kiss on the tips of her fingers. It was an altogether a more intimate place than the back of her palm and Elizabeth demurred for a moment, then grinned brilliantly, shifting Darcy's hold so that she was holding his hand in hers, and then brought it to her lips to press an answering kiss on his palm,

"There. Now the promise is sealed." She declared, and did she have any idea how delightful she looked? Smiling in that fashion under the moonlight? Did she know how tempting she was? How it was taking every crumb of control in Darcy's body to walk away even if their separation was to be only temporary ?

Did she know that already, Darcy considered her happiness his duty? She was more precious to him than anybody else. She was more important to him than Pemberley. Did she know she held his heart in her hands even as he took his leave?

As if she could read his thoughts, Elizabeth asked,"When are you leaving, Sir?”

"Tomorrow. After breakfast. I must not procrastinate on the journey any longer. The sole reason of my coming tonight was because I had given you my word that I would and I could not bear to disappoint you." Darcy paused, then grinned, "Well that, and I was determined to dance with you at least once."

Lizzy smiled back, then abruptly remembered what he was leaving to face.

"I hope you will find your cousin in good health, Sir. I shall pray for him every night. And for you."

Darcy gave her a soft smile, then took a step closer so that they were toe to toe,

"Will you worry for me?" It was a novel idea. Darcy was used to constantly worrying about persons under his charge, be it his sister, his servants or his tenants. It was not often people worried about him .

But Elizabeth did not hesitate before nodding, "Wretchedly.”

"Then would it please you if I were to write to you?"

Her face brightened, "Yes. More than anything."

Darcy took another half step closer to her. Drawn by her smile and affectionate gaze as if he were a moth to her flame, he closed the distance between them until he was positively crowding her. Elizabeth did not seem to mind, however. He felt, more than saw her breathing get more erratic and found it adorable when she had to crane her neck further still just to meet his eyes,

"And may I look forward to letters sent to me by you, Miss Bennet?"

Lizzy bit her lip to curb her grin, but it was of little use. She was drunk on his proximity, on his warmth, on his scent. She was drunk on Mr Darcy,

"One for each you write, Sir. And then some more on top of that. You will soon discover I am a bit of a chatterbox, Mr Darcy and before long you will grow bored reading about the most mundane of things I will deem important enough or interesting enough to write to you about."

"Then I will look forward to every one of those boring letters, Elizabeth.” Darcy promised, then, for just a moment, he leaned forward just enough so that his head rested on hers. He had hoped for a warm reception when he had come tonight to dance with her. But even in his wildest dreams, he had not imagined Elizabeth would be so amenable, so desiring of his attention, his company- of him. Her eagerness bolstered his confidence enough for him to ask,

"And when I have come back, may I ask for your hand in marriage, dearest, loveliest, Elizabeth?"

Elizabeth smiled brilliantly. Such happiness and contentment diffused across her face, in fact, that Darcy found it difficult to think, let alone process her next words with any kind of efficiency.

"I believe you already have it, Sir. "

Darcy exhaled shakily. He could not quite bring himself to believe that the night was not a dream,

"I will talk to your father on the morrow and get his consent."

"I would like that very much. "