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Chapter 33: In Restless Hours

Posted on 2008-11-24

Darcy looked toward his cousin wearily and asked, "What would you have me tell you?"

Leaning forward, and watching Darcy's countenance, Fitzwilliam declared evenly, "Perhaps you can begin by explaining why my mother was so disturbed by her visit with Mrs. and Miss Thornton."

Darcy's jaw set at this, feeling himself wholly unequal to discussing those women with equanimity after the difficult hours he spent waiting for news of Elizabeth. "I cannot imagine," he answered darkly.

"Come now, Darcy," Fitzwilliam began. "I am already aware that the subject of their conversation was who you kept company with at the orchestra, and that Miss Elizabeth Bennet was among that company."

Shaking his head angrily, his annoyance flaring uneasily, Darcy listened as Fitzwilliam added, "And I am already aware that Mrs. Thornton especially had some... objections to Miss Bennet's person and character."

"You seem very well informed," Darcy bit out suddenly, looking toward the fire that blazed in the hearth. "I wonder at your coming at all!"

Holding up a hand, Fitzwilliam declared, "Unlike my mother's guests, I am not here to debase Miss Bennet and her relations. I merely wish to hear how you and she became acquainted."

Darcy's dark eyes rose to Fitzwilliam's face swiftly, and he listened unhappily as his cousin added quietly, "And the degree of that acquaintance."

Turning his ring in agitation, Darcy realized his very great need for an ally, and trusting his cousin's even temper, he recognized that his only hope for one stood before him. Sighing heavily, and realizing there was nothing to be done but reveal the whole of his history with Elizabeth, Darcy settled back in his seat and quietly recounted his time in Hertfordshire, the longing he felt after his return to Derbyshire, and finally the few moments of happiness he had spent here in London. Fitzwilliam listened to his cousin's tale in wonder, at first incredulous that his cousin, who was so often taciturn and stoic, felt so deeply for this woman. Yet as Darcy softly finished by explaining the circumstances of his and Georgiana's absence that evening, Fitzwilliam detected a light glistening on Darcy's cheek. He started at such an open display of emotion, feeling certain he had not witnessed such in his cousin since they were quite young.

"You truly care for her?" he asked disbelievingly, for though he had often fallen in love, he had never felt so profound a connection as the one his cousin now described.

Darcy nodded gravely and swiped at his face to rid it of the single tear. Studying the dampness on his fingers, he shook his head in wonder at his openness. Smiling reluctantly, he admitted that he could only attribute such a change to his time with Elizabeth.

"I cannot believe it," Fitzwilliam added, pressing a hand thoughtfully to his chin. "When I first heard my mother's concerns, I thought it merely an infatuation. Can you really be considering making such a match, Darcy?"

Looking toward his cousin, his eyes narrowing at such a question, Darcy answered carefully, "There is nothing to consider; I intend to marry Miss Elizabeth should she accept me."

Rising from his seat and moving toward the fire, Fitzwilliam laid his arm against the mantle and stared distractedly into the flames. Shaking his head, he declared, "It is absolute folly; you must know that."

Bristling at his cousin's words, Darcy swiftly stood, his stature rigid and fists clenching in frustration as he said firmly, "I will not hear any words against Elizabeth."

Sighing deeply, and looking toward Darcy, Fitzwilliam confessed, "I would only warn you of the repercussions of such an alliance... "

Raising a hand and silencing him, Darcy quickly exclaimed, "Do you think I have not considered the results of a marriage to Elizabeth? Do you think I do not know how it will be perceived by those who know nothing of her beyond what they see?"

Fitzwilliam's eyes widened in surprise at his cousin's harsh tone, and studying him carefully, he saw a fiery determination in Darcy's eyes. Shaking his head, he confessed calmly, "Knowing you as I do, Darcy, I cannot imagine you ever acting without thinking something thoroughly through."

"Then trust me now, Fitzwilliam," Darcy said seriously. "I will not be told that I do not know my own mind and heart; and I certainly will not stand to have anyone insinuate that I do not know what is best for Georgiana and my future."

Fitzwilliam watched in wonder as his cousin strode swiftly to the window, his arms crossing in a sign of his displeasure. Darcy looked out into the darkness and continued firmly, "I will be damned if I allow anyone to convince me that my choice is wrong. There is no one more capable than her."

"But Darcy I have heard she is... " Fitzwilliam began reluctantly before Darcy reared on him and waved his hand dismissively.

"Her blindness has no bearing on her character or abilities," he said hotly. "Elizabeth is my choice, and I do not require your blessing, cousin."

Hearing such a staunch declaration from Darcy, Fitzwilliam reluctantly admitted that he was perfectly right. Darcy had been his own man since his father's death, and knowing how seriously Darcy took his duties as master of Pemberley and Georgiana's guardian, there was no doubt he had carefully considered the results of a marriage to Miss Elizabeth Bennet of Hertfordshire.

Eyeing his cousin speculatively, Fitzwilliam declared, "You have it nonetheless, Darcy."

For the first time that day, Darcy felt himself breathe easily and his unhappy features lightened slightly. Crossing the room quickly, he clasped his cousin's hand and said quietly, "Thank you."

Returning the pressure of the grasp, Fitzwilliam continued, "You are welcome, but given my affection for you and Georgiana, it cannot be unexpected that I would not be your harshest critic. Now; stop looking so dour and have a seat so I can tell you of those who will not be so easily won."

Darcy nodded slightly, and moving back to his chair, fell into it heavily, his body and mind crying out for respite. He watched as his cousin paused by the small side table, retrieving the crystal carafe of brandy and two tumblers. Allowing a small smile to appear on his face, Darcy thanked Fitzwilliam for his forethought, agreeing heartily that there discussion would require something far stronger than tea.

Pouring his own glass, Fitzwilliam resumed his seat and declared, "From your reaction to what I have said, I see that Mrs. and Miss Thornton's visit to my mother was not wholly unexpected."

Darcy shifted in his seat uncomfortably, and remembering his meeting with those women the previous evening, he answered quietly, "Unfortunately, it is not."

Fitzwilliam nodded gravely and continued, "I only know what my mother and father have revealed to me, though now I heartily wish I had been present for tea this afternoon. Tea is rarely so eventful!"

Darcy rolled his eyes heavenward at his cousin's characteristic good humor, and reflected that only Fitzwilliam could find amusement in such a conversation. Turning his dark eyes on Fitzwilliam's countenance, Darcy raised an expectant brow and silently urged him to continue.

Taking in Darcy's displeased gaze, Fitzwilliam quickly cleared his throat, and blushing slightly, continued, "Mrs. Thornton told my mother of her meeting with you, and confided her concerns regarding the company you were allowing Georgiana to keep. While I believe Miss Bennet's relations living in Cheapside was worrisome enough, my mother was entirely undone by the mention of Miss Bennet's... "

Darcy looked at him warningly, and pressing a hand to his chin, Fitzwilliam added quietly, "Situation."

Darcy nodded in understanding, sipping the fine brandy and allowing its effects to warm and calm him. Fitzwilliam pressed on, professing, "After the ladies departed, my mother immediately set out to find my father, and though I do not know the extent of their conversation, I think you can have no doubt as to its subject."

Sighing heavily, Darcy shook his head sadly and declared, "I had every intention of introducing Elizabeth to them properly. I would have them understand how able she is, and if you see what she has done for Georgiana in so short a time, you would be impressed by her as well."

Reaching forward and patting Darcy's shoulder in empathy, Fitzwilliam said, "Of that I am certain, Darcy. She must be a remarkable woman to catch your fancy. Our family has been attempting to marry you off since you were of age!"

"Unfortunately, yes," Darcy reflected before taking another sip of his brandy. "Is there any more you wish to tell me?"

Looking to the floorboards, his face flushing slightly with embarrassment, Fitzwilliam declared, "My parents have asked... have demanded, that you meet with them tomorrow at luncheon."

Laying his tumbler aside, Darcy passed his hands over his tired face and inquired, "May I ask what exactly they wish to speak about?"

"Of that I was not privileged," Fitzwilliam said evenly. "But I would imagine it will include their attempt at convincing you that Miss Bennet is entirely unworthy."

Darcy closed his eyes in frustration, and listened as his cousin quietly added, "And I fear they will not be so easily induced into agreeing that Miss Bennet is a suitable choice wife, mistress of your home, or guardian for Georgiana."

Opening his eyes and turning his gaze toward the fireplace, Darcy drank the last of his brandy, and feeling his heart beat rapidly in annoyance, he declared, "I will meet with them tomorrow then."

Fitzwilliam took in his cousin's steely gaze, and smiling proudly, said, "Well then; I shall be certain not to miss luncheon tomorrow."

Darcy reluctantly smiled at this, as Fitzwilliam lifted the carafe again and refreshed Darcy's tumbler, declaring, "Drink this up; we need to fortify you for battle!"

Finding that Fitzwilliam's plan was a sound one, Darcy settled back in his seat and enjoyed his second brandy. Though he knew he should begin preparing how to explain his love for and trust in Elizabeth, Darcy's mind would not release the troubling images he had witnessed that day when Elizabeth fainted before him. Closing his eyes, he realized that sleep would not come easily, however sorely he wished for respite. Sighing deeply, he accepted this, and reflected that in the restless hours to come, he would think only on Elizabeth, and what he might do to bring her back to him.

Jane shifted slightly, her head nodding slowly from its position on her forearm. She raised it quickly, her fair eyes opening slightly when she recognized the warmth she felt on her face was the sliver of early morning sunlight that filtered between the heavy drapes. For a moment, she smiled serenely, forgetting the previous evening she spent sleeplessly beside Elizabeth.

‘Elizabeth!' she remembered, her mind screaming in panic at the knowledge she had allowed herself to fall asleep in the early morning.

Straightening immediately, she looked toward Elizabeth, her eyes wide with fear. Reaching forward, she felt for Elizabeth's hand, and finding it, she clasped it surely. Studying Elizabeth's still form carefully, Jane perceived the light rise and fall of Elizabeth's chest. Releasing the breath she had been holding, Jane kissed Elizabeth's hand affectionately and thanked God for the sound of her breathing, however unsteady. Leaning forward, she brushed Elizabeth's damp brow, and watched unhappily as Elizabeth flinched beneath her light touch. Sighing heavily, Jane admitted sadly that Elizabeth had made little progress since the previous day, for she had spent the night turning in agitation and whispering the incoherent thoughts of her feverish mind. Raising her tired eyes, Jane noticed that the chair that had been occupied by Mr. Byatt was now vacant, and the door was closed tightly. Jane wondered if his absence boded well, for perhaps he had determined that, for at least a time, Elizabeth was not in any immediate danger.

"One can hope," Jane whispered anxiously, returning her gaze to Elizabeth.

She watched helplessly while Elizabeth mumbled quietly, her words crashing together and coming swiftly and unintelligibly. Jane wondered what her sister dreamed; what troubled her mind so that she could find no rest. She pressed Elizabeth's hand gently, hoping to comfort her slightly.

"All will be well, dearest," she said evenly, attempting to convince herself rather than her companion.

Absorbed in her silent study of her sister, Jane was unaware that her aunt slipped noiselessly into the room and approached her until she laid a gentle hand on her shoulder. Jane started at the contact, inhaling sharply before meeting the kind eyes of her aunt.

"Forgive me for startling you, my dear," Mrs. Gardiner declared softly.

Jane smiled, and shaking her head, asserted, "I was merely surprised. Why did you not wake me, aunt?"

Smiling at her eldest niece's unswerving devotion to her sister, she replied, "I saw no reason; you need to rest as well, otherwise you will be of little use to Elizabeth."

"But something could have happened!" Jane exclaimed fearfully. "What if Elizabeth..."

Jane could not say the words her mind had so dwelled on throughout the last torturous hours. Mrs. Gardiner kneeled beside her, and clasping her hand surely, declared, "Mr. Byatt has only just left your company; he remained the entire night. He was relieved to see you finally allowed yourself to rest, and when he told me of it, I agreed heartily."

Looking toward the floorboards and blushing at her apparent stubbornness, Jane said, "How long have I slept?"

"Not long enough," Mrs. Gardiner answered flatly, gazing at Jane worriedly and pressing a hand to her forehead to ensure that she had not caught a chill from her vigil.

"I am well," she declared gently. "Have no fear for me."

Rising from her place beside Jane, Mrs. Gardiner studied Elizabeth carefully and adjusted the linens more tightly about her. Sighing heavily, she said, "I will feel much better when your father arrives."

Jane nodded, and vehemently agreed before relating, "Mr. Darcy said we could expect him tonight. It was very good of him to lend his carriage and team for father's journey."

"And it was very good of Mr. Bingley to go to Hertfordshire so that he might accompany him," Mrs. Gardiner declared gently. "They are both very kind to us."

Jane nodded, a becoming blush spreading lightly across her cheeks as she thought on Mr. Bingley's bright eyes and disarming smile. Looking toward Elizabeth and studying her seriously, Jane confided quietly, "I believe Mr. Darcy meant to declare himself yesterday."

"What?" her aunt asked incredulously. "How do you know this?"

Smiling slightly, Jane revealed, "Elizabeth told me of it; he requested a private interview with her."

Mrs. Gardiner's eyes widened in recognition and she breathed out, "No wonder he was here then; Elizabeth must have collapsed right before him."

Jane nodded sadly, saying, "Poor Mr. Darcy; I cannot think what he must have suffered at the sight. I do not know that I would have acted as well as he had I witnessed it."

"He is uncommonly sensible," Mrs. Gardiner observed. "But he looked quite tortured when he departed in the evening; I do not believe he had any desire to go."

Lightly running her fingers along Elizabeth's brow and down her cheek, unknowingly tracing the very path Mr. Darcy had the previous day, Jane declared, "I believe him wholly deserving of Elizabeth, would you not agree?"

Smiling pleasantly, Mrs. Gardiner opened her mouth to concur, but quickly closed it when she heard Elizabeth speak quietly. Looking toward her, she immediately noted that Elizabeth's furrowed brow had calmed slightly, and her sharp flinching had ceased. Rushing to her side, Mrs. Gardiner laid her hand surely against her forehead, gauging the heat there. She felt no apparent change in the temperature, but noted that Elizabeth's entire form was at ease.

Elizabeth breathed deeply and said softly, her voice no more than a whisper, "Fitzwilliam."

Jane's movement ceased at the soft murmur of Mr. Darcy's given name, her hand falling to Elizabeth's shoulder in surprise as she studied her. "Elizabeth?" she asked hopefully.

Much to Jane's disappointment, Elizabeth fell silent, her head settling to the side. Jane watched her carefully, noting that her countenance, though pale, remained peaceful. Sighing in relief, Jane raised Elizabeth's hand to her lips and kissed her knuckles lightly.

"He is deserving of you, Lizzy," Jane whispered. "And you of him."

Darcy twisted his ring anxiously as he stood in the grand foyer of his uncle's home. He glanced around, his eyes taking in the familiar stateliness of the furniture and walls. He nodded his gratitude to the footman who offered to lead him to the drawing room, and taking a deep breath to calm his anxiety, he followed. On reaching the large mahogany doors, he put a steady hand on the footman's arm to prevent him from opening them. The footman looked at him questioningly, and taking in Darcy's firmly set jaw and steady gaze, he realized that his master's nephew meant to announce himself. Releasing the fine brass handle, the footman bowed low and departed.

Darcy watched him go, waiting until the man disappeared down the long hall before pressing his hands against the door and leaning his head against the hard wood. He closed his eyes, imagining what his uncle would say, and recalling his cousin's words, his annoyance grew. He inhaled sharply as his mind flashed to Mrs. Thornton's look of derision as she studied Elizabeth carefully. Shaking his head unhappily, Darcy focused on the cool, heavy wood against his forehead. Breathing deeply, he realized he could do naught but enter the room, for he had been summoned by them, and he would not have them think ill of Elizabeth. Opening his eyes, he straightened and rolled his shoulders in an attempt to calm himself. He imagined Elizabeth's easy laughter, her green eyes dancing merrily with the clear sound, and in an instant, he felt his anger ease and anxiety lift.

Smiling softly, he whispered, "She is all I desire."

Praying silently that she fared better today than the previous, Darcy resolved to visit the Gardiners later that afternoon to ask after her. Clasping the door handles surely, his fingers straining against them, he pushed the doors forward. Looking up, he immediately perceived that the occupants of the room studied him expectantly, and releasing the handles, Darcy strode purposefully into the room. He glanced to his right, and noted Fitzwilliam watched him carefully, the brilliant red uniform he wore the previous day traded for muted attire and riding boots. Fitzwilliam nodded almost imperceptibly, encouraging his cousin wordlessly with the action. Darcy's dark eyes turned forward, and pausing on reaching the finely woven rug, he bowed low toward the tall, elegant woman who stood before him and the older gentleman who did not rise from his place near the enormous marble chimneypiece.

"Good day, aunt," Darcy said quietly before looking toward his uncle. "It is good to see you, uncle."

His uncle did not answer, and Darcy quickly realized such reticence revealed that he was wholly out of that man's favor. Pursing his lips in displeasure and moving forward, Darcy gently took his aunt's hand in his own, and kissing it lightly, he declared pleasantly, "I hope you are well."

As was her custom on seeing her beloved nephew, a slight smile appeared on her fair countenance, but she swiftly quelled it, replacing the look with one of uncertainty. She studied him carefully, and noted his handsome features were drawn, his complexion pale, and his eyes, which reminded her so much of her husband's departed sister, were rimmed by dark circles. Her anxiety over what had been revealed to her the previous day subsided, and was replaced by a deep concern for her nephew's welfare.

"I am well, Darcy," she answered gently before sliding her hand from his grasp.

Darcy watched as she moved to the settee across from her husband, her satin skirts of deep green trailing at fashionable length behind her, and her delicately arranged curls swaying beneath the intricately embroidered lace cap she wore. She swept her skirts to the side, and seated herself gracefully and noiselessly before folding her hands upon her lap and looking toward her husband expectantly. Glancing over his shoulder, Darcy caught the wary gaze of his cousin, who shrugged lightly in response, for he, too, clearly did not expect such a silence to descend upon the room. Sighing heavily, Darcy felt it lasted interminably, and he looked between his aunt and uncle in anticipation.

Unable to bear such treatment, Darcy soon inquired, "May I ask why you have summoned me?"

For the first time since Darcy's entrance minutes before, his uncle turned his serious gaze on him, his light brown eyes narrowing slightly at the question. Standing from his seat and looking toward his son speculatively, he asked, "Are you certain you have no idea, Darcy?"

Noting that Fitzwilliam looked on innocently, and recognizing his errand had been merely to fetch him, Darcy answered flatly, "I am certain, sir. I cannot imagine what pressing matter would have you call for me so urgently."

The earl turned his gaze on his nephew, and as he often did, Darcy saw so much of his mother's countenance in him. While his uncle by no means maintained the rigid deportment or opinions of Lady Catherine, he still preferred the distinction of rank to be preserved. His attire was tasteful and finely cut, emphasizing his height and noble build, while also revealing his place in the world. Darcy recalled that the earl did not possess the saintly patience of his mother, and noting the annoyance in his uncle's face, he remained silent, but held the older gentleman's gaze unwaveringly.

Lord Matlock clasped his hands tightly behind him, assuming a position similar to that of his nephew, and declared shortly, "Then your aunt and I shall enlighten you immediately."

Moving back toward his chair, he commanded, "Sit down, Darcy. You also, Richard, for given your penchant for pretty faces, you will benefit from this as well."

Darcy's color heightened noticeably, resenting being ordered about like a child and feeling that no one had spoken to him in such a way since his childhood.

‘Except Elizabeth,' his mind whispered.

He fought down the smile that threatened to ease the firm set of his jaw, for Darcy recognized it would hardly do to be distracted by the pleasant memories of Elizabeth's presence at such a time. Glancing toward his cousin, Darcy followed obediently, and seated himself beside his aunt. Fitzwilliam walked slowly behind, taking up the ornate chair to his mother's right.

"I do not believe you are wholly ignorant of the reason for my summons," Lord Matlock said evenly. "Indeed, I am certain you have no doubt as to the subject I wish to discuss."

Studying his uncle, Darcy declared, "Truly, sir, I do not. To what do I owe the pleasure of such an invitation."

Bristling at Darcy's easy assertion, the earl revealed, "We have heard a report of an alarming nature, and we would have you defend yourself against it. Your aunt was told by a most reliable, most honorable acquaintance, that you were seen in the company of a young woman at the orchestra on Friday evening. Though I know it must be a scandalous falsehood, for you have far too great an understanding of decorum to allow such an occurrence, I instantly resolved on sending for you so that we might make our sentiments known."

"If you believed such a report to be impossible, uncle," declared Darcy, coloring angrily, "I wonder you took the trouble of calling for me at all. Whatever do you propose by it?"

"To insist upon having such a report contradicted!" Lord Matlock exclaimed.

Lady Matlock cleared her throat gently, looking pointedly at her husband and willing him to resume his seat, which he had left in his anger. Darcy watched in amusement as the formidable gentleman withered beneath his wife's cool stare, feeling that his aunt had always possessed a remarkable ability to reestablish equanimity in unpleasant situations.

Turning her striking light eyes on him, Lady Matlock inquired gently, "I wish to hear about your evening at the orchestra, Darcy. Please; do indulge me."

Darcy settled back into his seat, and raising his head defiantly, he said, "Georgiana and I had a pleasant evening, and were happy to extend an invitation to Mr. and Mrs. Edward Gardiner and their nieces, the Misses Jane and Elizabeth Bennet."

"I have never heard of them," the earl declared abruptly, looking toward his nephew at the mention of the young women.

"No, you would not know them," Darcy answered quietly, turning his ring distractedly. "I was introduced to the Miss Bennets during my time in Hertfordshire. When I learned that they were visiting their aunt and uncle, I thought Georgiana would enjoy becoming acquainted with them."

Looking toward the ground and shaking her head, the countess confessed, "I believe that is what troubled Mrs. Thornton."

His eyes narrowing in annoyance at this evidence of Mrs. Thornton's interference, Darcy breathed deeply and asked sharply, "I do not know why introducing my sister to two amiable and intelligent women is troubling."

"It is not your introducing them to Georgiana that is troubling," Lord Matlock asserted. "What troubled her was the degree of your attentiveness to one of your guests."

Darcy inhaled sharply at this, recalling his moments with Elizabeth, especially those during the performance. Shaking his head, he asked, his voice tired and full of finality, "What would you have me say, uncle? I have no desire or patience to recount every detail of the evening."

His color deepening, Lord Matlock declared evenly, "I would hear of your intentions toward this Miss Bennet."

His jaw tightening, Darcy answered, "Whatever my intentions may be, they should be of little concern to Mrs. Thornton and her daughter."

"But they are of interest to your family!" his uncle exclaimed. "This match which you foolishly wish to pursue, can never take place! Have you no care for the wishes of your family? Do you care nothing for your sister's future?"

Rising from his seat abruptly, Darcy glowered at the earl and said hotly, "There is nothing I care for more than Georgiana's welfare, and if I do seek Miss Elizabeth's hand, it will be because I have determined there can be no more suitable a sister for Georgiana than her."

"You would choose such a woman to be my niece's sister?" Lord Matlock asked incredulously. "Her lack of connections would be reason enough to find her lacking."

"I am a gentleman and she is a gentleman's daughter," Darcy reasoned calmly. "I see nothing lacking in her situation."

"Perhaps that alone is not reason enough," the earl bit out. Standing and moving quickly to stand before his nephew, Lord Matlock declared, "Mrs. Thornton revealed to your aunt that Miss Bennet is blind. Can you deny it?"

Leveling his gaze on Lord Matlock, Darcy admitted, "I have no wish to deny it. It is a fact and I believe it makes Miss Elizabeth's accomplishments and character all the more remarkable."

"This is madness!" he answered angrily. "Everything forbids it; you have thrown over honor, decorum, and your duty to your family, most especially to your sister, who will need to be guided through her Season. How do you suppose a woman who cannot find her way through a ballroom can educate Georgiana on what is expected of her?"

Darcy started at this, recalling every word of Elizabeth's own fears regarding an alliance between them. The earl's accusation cut him deeply, and paling noticeably, he declared, "Let me be rightly understood, uncle; there has not been a moment in these last years that I have not considered what is best for Georgiana and Pemberley."

"There could not be a more attentive guardian for Georgiana," Fitzwilliam said from his place beside his mother. "You know that, father."

"Do I?" Lord Matlock asked in mock surprise. "If I did, I am now having some serious doubts on that score."

Darcy's mien darkened noticeably at this, and leveling his heated gaze on his uncle, he declared cooly, "You should not, sir, for Georgiana is quite safe in my care."

George Wickham's countenance flashed unbidden in Darcy's mind, and shaking his head, he swiftly beat back the memory of Ramsgate, and continued softly, "Georgiana has blossomed during her short acquaintance with Miss Elizabeth."

"But you must consider what having a familial connection with such a woman will do to her," Lord Matlock declared evenly. "No one in good society will connect themselves with such a woman, and as a result, Georgiana and you will suffer for it!"

"Husband," Lady Matlock began calmly, rising gracefully from her seat. "Calm yourself."

Moving to her husband's side, she laid her hand gently on his forearm, and looking toward Darcy, said slowly, "Tell us once and for all if you are engaged to her."

Darcy studied his aunt, taking in her earnest expression and the emotions flashing across her countenance. Her gaze did not waver, and noting it was anxious and full of wonder, Darcy hoped she did not judge his actions and Elizabeth as harshly as his uncle. Closing his eyes, he recalled the unfortunate fact that he was not her intended, regardless of how much he wished it.

Opening his eyes, he looked sadly toward his aunt, and sighing in resignation, he confessed, "I am not."

She inhaled sharply at this, as Lord Matlock released a breath of relief and said firmly, "And you will promise never to enter into such an engagement."

"I will do no such thing," Darcy answered flatly as he stepped away from his family and moved toward the door.

He strode purposefully forward, the heels of his riding boots banging angrily against the polished wood floorboards beneath him. Before he could pass beneath its arch, his uncle called after him.

"Darcy!" Lord Matlock exclaimed in annoyance. "Do not be so hasty; I demand satisfaction! Are you so willing to surrender the respect we have for you? To abandon fully your place in society? If you continue your attentions toward that woman, you will find many doors will shut to you."

Turning on his heel and raising his brow in wonder, Darcy smiled slightly and declared passionately, "If Miss Elizabeth should accept my attentions and affection, many other doors will open. If I am so blessed, I will have such sources of happiness, that I will have no cause to repine."

His uncle gazed at him, stricken by the vehemence in his voice, and Darcy bowed respectfully to them and said, "I wish you all a fine day."

With that, Darcy departed swiftly, and did not even glance back at the company. Had he done so, he would have seen the delighted smile on his cousin's face and his uncle's color heighten dangerously. Lady Matlock looked on quietly, her light eyes filling quickly with unshed tears. Though she did not entirely approve of his choice, she could not deny that witnessing the determination and loyalty with which he defended Miss Elizabeth had touched her greatly.

‘I know not what to think,' she thought worriedly before falling heavily into her seat.

Meanwhile, Darcy quickened his pace toward the foyer, and gratefully accepted his greatcoat and hat from the footman. Pushing his arms hastily through the sleeves and fixing his hat atop his head, he slipped through the door noiselessly, and welcomed the blast of cold air that greeted him as he stepped outside. Breathing it in, he allowed it to calm his racing mind.

"My God; what have you done, Darcy?" he wondered aloud, looking toward the sky.

For a moment, he glanced at the closed door behind him, and though he felt some remorse in speaking so to those individuals whom he respected so greatly, he determined that he could not regret it. Untying his stallion's reigns, Darcy lifted himself into the saddle and looked once more at the imposing edifice before him. He committed its details to memory, reflecting that he would undoubtedly not enter it again for some time.

‘Perhaps, someday,' he thought sadly, imagining welcoming them into his home with Elizabeth by his side.

Shaking his head sadly, he looked toward the sky and watched the gray clouds rolling above. He pulled the collar of his greatcoat closer to his neck, and imagined Elizabeth's eyes dancing merrily and a slow smile spreading across her beautiful features. Drawing a deep breath, he turned his eyes forward, and smiling calmly, urged the horse forward in the direction of Gracechurch Street.

Elizabeth breathed deeply, feeling her chest rise and fall despite the weight it. Her brow furrowed curiously as she wondered at its cause. Moving her fingers slightly, she felt the heavy linen of a quilt beneath them. Desperate to shift her position, she attempted to move her legs, but her limbs felt the heaviness of sleep, and she relented, sighing in frustration. She heard a quiet conversation to her right, and turning toward the sound, she recognized Jane's gentle voice.

‘Jane?' she attempted to say aloud, her throat burning with the effort.

Swallowing, she tried again, her mouth opening wordlessly. Shaking her head in annoyance, she tried once more and managed to whisper, "Jane."

The effect of this was immediate, and she listened as Jane and the other occupants of the room closed the short distance between themselves and the bed. Elizabeth felt Jane press her hand urgently, clasping it surely and calling her gently.

"Elizabeth," Jane breathed out, her eyes glistening happily. Looking toward Mrs. Gardiner, she declared, "I heard her, aunt. Did you not hear her?"

Elizabeth wished desperately to speak again, but felt herself dizzy as her mind raced in confusion. She wondered at her being confined to a bed, and though she tried desperately, she could not recall what had led her there. Sighing lightly, she recalled only Mr. Darcy, and she heard his voice speaking quietly and earnestly with her. She inhaled sharply, remembering the subject of his conversation, and wishing to answer him, she opened her eyes slowly.

"Lizzy?" Mrs. Gardiner said gently, joining Jane.

Turning her face in the direction of her aunt's voice, Elizabeth smiled slightly and felt a touch on her hand. Mr. Byatt held Elizabeth's hand in his own, his fingers pressing against the inside of her wrist and his brow knitting thoughtfully. Mrs. Gardiner smiled brightly, and glancing toward Mr. Byatt, watched him imploringly and prayed he would reveal that Elizabeth was recovering.

Releasing the breath he had been holding, Mr. Byatt pressed his hand against Elizabeth's forehead and found it cool and dry. Smiling, he stood straighter and declared quietly, "I believe her fever has broken."

Jane and Mrs. Gardiner looked toward each other joyfully and embraced happily. Turning her eyes to study Elizabeth, Jane noticed her sister's complexion had somewhat regained its color, and her breathing was calm and steady. Taking Elizabeth's hand between her own, Jane kissed her fingers happily.

"Dearest, Lizzy," she said, pressing Elizabeth's hand against her cheek.

Elizabeth felt a small tear fall against the back of her hand, and turning more fully to Jane, she whispered with great effort, "I... I am well."

She heard her aunt's light step approaching and her skirts swishing softly against the floorboards. She felt her slide a warm hand beneath her neck before carefully pressing a glass against her lips. Elizabeth sipped the water slowly, savoring the coolness of it and feeling it calm the ache in her throat. Whispering her thanks, she settled her head back against the soft pillow.

"Forgive me," Elizabeth declared quietly, frowning unhappily with the realization she had once again caused her family great worry.

Kissing Elizabeth's cheek lightly, Jane said, "There is nothing to forgive."

Hannah closed the door quietly behind her, releasing its handle noiselessly and smiling pleasantly at the scene she had just been privy to witnessing. After carefully aiding Miss Elizabeth in sitting up, she and Mrs. Gardiner piled soft pillows behind her so that she might recline against them and take her broth. She sipped at it slowly, allowing the liquid to warm her. Once finished, she asked if she might sit by the window with the drapes open, for she desperately wished to move her cramping limbs. Hannah quickly fetched the comfortable chair Mr. Byatt had occupied the previous night, and with much effort, Mrs. Gardiner aided Miss Elizabeth in moving from the bed. Miss Bennet looked on happily as her sister was wrapped carefully in her thick dressing gown, her eyes studying her sister's countenance as if she should at any moment disappear.

‘What a fright Miss Elizabeth gave us,' she thought sadly.

She recalled the painful days some years ago that the family had spent in constant torment with the knowledge Miss Elizabeth was suffering in Hertfordshire. Miss Bennet had been beside herself, spending hours pacing silently before the windows in the drawing room and watching the post carriages pass without stopping to bring news. She had heard her weeping quietly at night and remembered her drawn countenance at the breakfast table each morning. Sighing slightly, Hannah gathered her skirts and slowly moved down the hallway before descending the stairs. She prayed silently that Miss Elizabeth would remain healthy, for she wholly believed the young woman's tired body could not withstand another infection so soon. Passing her hand over her own tired eyes, Hannah was surprised to discover her cheeks were covered in tears. Taking up her handkerchief, she paused when she heard the bell at the door. She quickly moved toward it, and opened it only to see Mr. Darcy standing before her.

Studying the maid's eyes and recognizing they glistened with unshed tears, Darcy started noticeably. He paled in terror, his fears of arriving and discovering Elizabeth had left him seemingly confirmed.

"No," he breathed out in disbelief.

Biting back a sob, he moved quickly past the woman, caring nothing for her surprised countenance and cry of protest. His mind filled with images of his time spent with Elizabeth as he raced above stairs, his long stride easily taking two steps at a time. Seconds later, though it seemed to him an eternity, he arrived at the door of Elizabeth's chamber. His breath caught, and tearing his hat from his head in agitation, he tossed it aside and grasped the door handle. Laying his head against the heavy wood, he reflected fearfully on what he might see beyond it. Praying that he was wrong in what he expected, he slowly opened the door.

As it swung wide, his eyes took in the dimly lit room before falling on the empty bed. Its linens had been folded neatly down, and without Elizabeth's presence, the room seemed cold and silent. He leaned heavily against the door frame and felt tears fall unbidden down his cheeks. Sliding down the wall, he laid his head back, silently cursing himself for leaving her presence and feeling his harsh breaths coming painfully. Drawing his knees up and leaning his elbows against them, he laid his head in his hands dejectedly. He remained so for some moments before raising his saddened dark eyes and looking about the room. His gaze was soon arrested by the vision of Elizabeth sitting not far from the bed, her face turned toward him and brows rising in wonder.

"Jane?" she called, obviously expecting her sister's return.

Darcy could not bring himself to answer for he was too overcome by her presence. Instead, he stood from his place at the door, his legs shaking beneath him. He strode swiftly to her side, his steps muffled by the rug beneath his feet. Kneeling beside Elizabeth, he gazed at her happily and took in every aspect of her beautiful countenance. Reaching forward tentatively, he placed his hand gently against her cheek and felt the delightful heat that radiated from it. Elizabeth started at the touch, her breath catching in surprise as she recognized it was him before her.

"Thank God you have not left me," Darcy whispered as he allowed his fingers to travel down her cheek before taking her hand tightly in his own.

She felt his hold on her fingers and only in that moment did she recognize how very real his presence was. Smiling brightly, she returned the pressure of his grasp, and blushing slightly, she confessed, "I believe you are right, Fitzwilliam; I will never regret my decision."

His eyes widened at this, hearing her easy use of his name and recalling his own words the previous day. He watched her carefully, noting that her green eyes, though framed with dark circles, danced brilliantly, and he reflected that he had never seen her so beautiful. He took in her appearance; her hair falling across her shoulder in a loosely tied braid, her shoulders covered by a thick woolen shawl, and her smile widening happily.

Raising the hand he held to his lips and moving his lips softly over her knuckles, he declared, "I promise you will not. Marry me, Elizabeth; I beg of you."

"I will," she answered, her voice choked with elation. "And I will never leave you."

Chapter 34: Acceptance

Posted on 2008-12-06

Darcy's eyes widened in astonishment, and releasing the breath he had been holding, he smiled broadly, a dimple appearing in his cheek revealing the depth of his happiness. He raised Elizabeth's hand and leaned his forehead against it, closing his eyes and enjoying its warmth. He felt Elizabeth's other hand move to his head, her fingers raking slowly through his hair. Shivering at the touch, he drew a shuddering breath and fought back the lump he felt rising in his throat.

Elizabeth closed her eyes, enjoying having his person so close to her own. She moved her fingertips through his hair, savoring the feeling of the soft strands sliding along them. She felt his body shake slightly beneath her touch, and she inhaled sharply with the realization that he wept softly against her. Whispering his name, she passed her hand once more through his hair before trailing her fingers along his cheek. They settled on his jaw, and applying gentle pressure there, she willed him to raise his face.

Darcy obeyed immediately, and looking toward her, he closed his eyes tightly in an effort to calm himself. The fear that had plagued his mind since the previous day, and kept him awake throughout the night, slowly dissipated under Elizabeth's gentle ministrations.

"Forgive me," he said quietly as she moved her fingers over his cheeks in an effort to rid them of the tears that had trailed down.

"There is nothing to forgive," she answered firmly, holding his face lightly between her hands.

Before he could answer, he heard light footsteps approaching, and he quickly recognized the intimacy of their situation. Blushing and berating himself for exposing Elizabeth in such a way, he declared, "I am afraid there is, my dear, for whoever is coming will surely feel I have compromised your honor by being in your company at such a time."

Elizabeth listened to the soft clicking of heels, and smiling pleasantly, declared easily, "It is only Jane."

Grinning at her happy countenance, and reflecting that he missed it desperately, he raised his hand to her face, lightly tracing her jaw with his forefinger. He focused her skin beneath his fingertip, and smiling broadly, he said, "Tell me again."

Smiling mischievously, for she knew what he wished to hear repeated, Elizabeth declared, "It is only Jane."

Darcy's mouth fell open, but recognizing her brow arched slightly, he quickly grinned and said pointedly, "Though I am happy to hear that, it was your answer that I wished to hear again, for I cannot believe my good fortune at being accepted by the woman who has occupied my thoughts every day for these last months."

Her breath caught at this, and raising her other hand to his face, she cupped it gently. Closing her eyes, she slowly leaned forward until her forehead rested against his and she said, "I will marry you, Fitzwilliam."

Reaching up and covering her hands with his own, Darcy held them gently, and drawing them away from his face, he brought them to his chest surely. He closed his eyes, mimicking her peaceful expression and happily recounting her words.

Sighing contentedly, he focused on the feeling of her so close him, and declared sadly, "You cannot know how these last hours have tortured me."

Elizabeth prepared to answer him, to offer him some apology or comfort, but paused when she heard rapid footsteps overcoming Jane's gentle treading. She felt him start and gently release her hands. She turned toward him expectantly and listened as he shifted away from her.

Rising from his position, Darcy prepared himself for the onslaught of questions that would undoubtedly come when he was discovered. He moved to straighten his waistcoat, but quickly recognized he still wore his greatcoat, so hasty was he to get to Elizabeth. Shaking his head slightly, he suddenly felt Elizabeth searching for his hand, moving her fingers down his forearm until they encountered the flesh of his palm. She clasped it surely, and looking toward her in surprise, Darcy saw her blushing slightly, but with a smile that revealed her true feelings; she was entirely unashamed. Watching her upturned face, he breathed deeply and returned her grasp.

Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner appeared in the doorframe, their eyes wide with wonder and their mouths opening wordlessly as they took in the scene before them. Though still pale, Elizabeth's eyes were bright and merry. Mr. Darcy held her small hand firmly between his own and his tall stature beside her unconsciously gave the appearance of wishing to shield her. His gaze, though anxious, held theirs steadily, and clearing his throat, he bowed respectfully.

"Whatever has happened, aunt?" Jane exclaimed as she hurried into the room, clutching the heavy quilt to her chest that she had gone to fetch.

She halted beside her uncle, looking toward him questioningly until she followed the direction of his gaze. Drawing a sharp breath, Jane blushed slightly as she took in the scene, feeling they had undoubtedly intruded upon a tender moment.

"Mr. Darcy," she greeted quietly, turning her eyes swiftly to her aunt and uncle in an effort to determine their opinion.

Nodding in acknowledgement, Darcy answered warily, "Miss Bennet; Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner. Forgive my intrusion."

Glancing at his wife, Mr. Gardiner said uncertainly, "This is quite unexpected, Mr. Darcy."

Darcy felt heat rise quickly to his face, and having no doubt his discomfiture was noticeable to the company, he shifted anxiously. Breathing deeply to calm himself, Darcy felt Elizabeth press his hand gently to gain his attention. Looking toward her, he saw that she bit her lip apprehensively, obviously concerned for her uncle's reaction. Not wishing to risk harming her already delicate constitution or upsetting her, Darcy returned the pressure of her grasp in an effort to calm her.

Leveling his serious gaze on Mr. Gardiner, Darcy declared evenly, "I know my presence is very untoward, sir, but I ask that you allow me to remain until I have spoken with Mr. Byatt."

Studying the young man's hold on his niece's hand, Mr. Gardiner said, "I am afraid that is impossible."

He watched as Darcy started at this before gesturing to the room and adding, "You cannot possibly remain here, sir."

Darcy blushed noticeably at this, remembering where he stood, and looking toward Elizabeth, noted that her color heightened as well, undoubtedly recalling the state of her attire. He watched as she drew her heavy dressing gown more tightly about her, and shaking his head lightly to force his eyes from her frame, he turned fully to the company, and reluctantly released his grasp on Elizabeth's hand.

He heard Elizabeth breathe in sharply at this, and hoping to ease her anxiety, he quickly inquired, "May I request a moment of your time then, sir?"

Turning his dark eyes to Elizabeth, he studied her countenance for a moment, and smiling slightly, he added, "There is something very particular I would wish to discuss with you."

Elizabeth felt his eyes on her, and she shivered noticeably. Pressing a hand to her cheek, and feeling the heat there, she suddenly felt herself quite overwhelmed.

‘Calm yourself, Lizzy,' her mind scolded, willing her heart to quiet.

Darcy noticed her movement, and fearing she might have become chilled, and terrified what such an occurrence might do to her, he looked toward Miss Bennet. Catching her gaze, he nodded toward the quilt she held. Understanding he wished to cover her sister, she quickly held it out to him, and watched in wonder as he quietly thanked her before kneeling beside Elizabeth. Caring nothing for the presence of the others, Darcy arranged the quilt carefully over Elizabeth's legs, moving slowly so as not to jar her fragile form in any way. As he guided the edge of the blanket over Elizabeth's feet, he heard her inhale sharply, and frightened he had caused her discomfort, he glanced up. His dark gaze studied her for what seemed an interminable moment, and he happily noted that she bit her lip in concentration.

Elizabeth prayed that Mr. Darcy was unaware of her distraction; she listened to his movements intently and could not help but feel the heat from his form as he carefully leaned toward her to straighten the quilt. Her breath caught when his stomach lightly grazed her lower leg when he reached to cover her feet. Despite the layers of fine linen and wool that covered it, she felt its warmth penetrate her chilled form. Biting her lip, she fought desperately to quell the heat she felt rising to her cheeks and ease her racing heartbeat.

Darcy watched delightedly, pleased that his presence seemingly affected her so. Smirking in satisfaction, he rose from his position beside her and quietly inquired if she required anything further.

"No... no," she breathed out, feeling certain he had detected her reaction, for his voice held a certain confidence that had not been there before. Praying that the rest of the company did not detect it, she straightened her shoulders, and willing her voice steady, added, "Thank you for your kindness, Mr. Darcy."

Mr. Gardiner watched the scene, his light eyes wide with wonder. He could not believe the careful movements Mr. Darcy exhibited as he covered Elizabeth, and looking toward the gentleman, Mr. Gardiner saw a contented smile lighten his serious mien. He glanced disbelievingly at his wife, for though he had suspected Mr. Darcy's attentions toward his niece were more than those of a mere acquaintance, he dared not entertain the thought of Mr. Darcy making her an offer. Mrs. Gardiner returned his gaze, a small smile spreading across her drawn countenance.

Feeling he could do naught but grant Mr. Darcy's request, Mr. Gardiner passed a hand over his face before declaring, "I believe retreating to the drawing room would be best, sir. I am certain Elizabeth requires rest and our presence is very taxing on her."

‘It is indeed,' Elizabeth thought wryly, reflecting that though Mr. Darcy's being there drove her to distraction, she could think of nothing more pleasurable.

She listened intently as he bid her a quiet farewell, and she detected a despondency in his voice as he declared, "I hope we will meet again very soon, Miss Elizabeth."

"I hope so as well," she answered quietly.

Looking toward Mr. Gardiner, and noting in annoyance that he watched him carefully, his brow arched speculatively, Darcy sighed in frustration. He reflected that he had much more he desperately wished to tell Elizabeth, and he felt his intended deserved a far more eloquent farewell.

Shaking his head, he thought defiantly, ‘I have already been discovered in a most improper situation; the worst that could follow would be her family demanding I marry her at once!'

Smiling at the thought, and envisioning Elizabeth at the pianoforte in Pemberley's music room, Darcy took her hand in both of his, and bowing over it respectfully, he raised it to his lips and kissed it. He allowed himself to linger over her knuckles for a moment longer than was proper before releasing her.

"Farewell, Miss Elizabeth," he said evenly, pouring all of his affection into the pronouncement of her name.

Elizabeth nodded and answered, "Good day, Mr. Darcy."

With that, Darcy crossed the room swiftly, all the while fighting desperately to beat back the broad smile that tried valiantly to spread across his face. Though he felt the most profound elation he had ever experienced, he allowed himself only a slight grin of satisfaction, for he did not wish to reveal too much until he had spoken with her father.

‘You have already revealed your whole heart to them,' his mind asserted.

On reaching the hallway, he admitted the truth in this, and breathing deeply, he felt the apprehension he had experienced during the previous hours dissipate with the knowledge that if Mr. Bennet granted his fondest wish, he would be permitted to reveal his intentions and affections openly. Smiling broadly, he looked after Mr. Gardiner and followed him downstairs.

Meanwhile Jane looked toward Elizabeth in wonder, her fair eyes wide with amazement and her mouth agape. She watched her sister carefully, noting the blithe smile that lit her tired complexion, and how she cradled the hand that Mr. Darcy had held against his chest. Shaking her head, she could not fathom the upright and sensible Mr. Darcy acting so openly and rashly.

‘To risk being found unchaperoned in so intimate a setting!' she thought. ‘Why, our uncle could surely demand he marry Lizzy at once!'

Looking toward her aunt, and finding that she smiled knowingly at Elizabeth, Jane resolved that perhaps that was Mr. Darcy's plan all along. Grinning in amusement at such a display from a man who the world viewed as stoic and proud, Jane moved the remaining steps to Elizabeth's side and knelt beside her. Pressing her hand lightly to Elizabeth's forehead, Jane watched as Elizabeth started, obviously forgetting that she was in the company of others. Smiling fondly, Jane felt that though Elizabeth's fever had broken, her skin was still quite flushed. Though she wished desperately that Mr. Darcy's presence was the entire cause of Elizabeth's heightened color, she could not risk it.

"Come, Lizzy," Jane said gently. "We must see you back to bed. Surely Mr. Byatt would not approve of you having so much excitement."

Elizabeth turned toward her sister in surprise, and wondering if Jane suspected the subject of her thoughts, she breathed deeply and declared evenly, "Nothing has occurred that has upset me."

Mrs. Gardiner laughed lightly at her niece's attempt at diverting their attention and professed, "Your sister did not say you were ‘upset.'"

Looking over her shoulder, and quickly dismissing Hannah, Mrs. Gardiner added, "She simply observed that you have had a very eventful afternoon."

"I do not think it was so eventful," she said carefully, standing slowly from her seat.

She listened as the heavy quilt that Mr. Darcy had so carefully laid upon her legs pooled to the floor, and closing her eyes, she remembered the subject of their conversation.

‘I will be Mrs. Darcy,' she marveled. ‘I will be his wife.'

Unbeknownst to Elizabeth, the thought made her waver slightly, and she felt Jane and her aunt approach her quickly and take her arms.

"Lizzy!" cried Jane worriedly, grasping Elizabeth's elbow as her legs wavered beneath her. "Can you hear me, dearest?"

Breathing deeply, Elizabeth felt the wave of dizziness pass and opening her eyes, she blushed heavily. "Perhaps I have had too much excitement, after all," she admitted sheepishly. "For a moment, I felt myself quite overwhelmed."

"Then let us help you to the bed," Mrs. Gardiner offered quietly.

Elizabeth nodded her acceptance, and gingerly allowed her aunt and sister to guide her toward the bed. Though she wanted nothing more than to make it there on her own to ease their anxieties, she felt entirely unequal to the task, for she could not concentrate on her steps. Her mind was filled with Mr. Darcy's words and quiet sentiments, and though she recognized the very great breach of decorum in wishing it, she desperately wanted him at her side once more. She heard Jane gently invite her to sit, and lowering herself onto the mattress, Elizabeth reclined, and felt her aunt tuck and secure the heavy bedclothes around her body.

"Why do you smile so?" Jane asked in amusement. "You are quite possibly the only individual who could find amusement in almost fainting."

"I do not believe she smiles because she very nearly fainted on us again," Mrs. Gardiner said knowingly. "But because of a certain individual currently below stairs with your uncle."

At this, Elizabeth shook herself from her reverie and turned toward her aunt's voice, her green eyes wide with astonishment. "Whatever do you mean, aunt?" she asked innocently.

Jane agreed heartily with Mrs. Gardiner's conjecture and declared, "Perhaps even her dizziness was caused by him."

Inhaling sharply, Elizabeth exclaimed, "You are both teasing me!"

She crossed her arms indignantly, her mind and body far too tired to think of a retort. Feeling heat rise quickly to her cheeks, she said, "You are both very cruel to treat an invalid so."

Mrs. Gardiner laughed heartily at this, feeling a sudden hope that Elizabeth would recover fully. Smoothing back her hair, Mrs. Gardiner leaned forward and lightly kissed her forehead before declaring, "I will go and fetch you some tea and bring Mr. Byatt to you."

Gathering her skirts, she left the room noiselessly and closed the door behind her. Elizabeth listened to its latch fall securely into place, and with the sound, felt her composure and control abandon her. Reaching for Jane's hand, for she knew her to be nearby, Elizabeth confessed, "Oh, Jane; I have so much to tell!"

Jane's brow furrowed in confusion, before rising happily, and she said merrily, "He has proposed then; I thought as much."

Shaking her head, Elizabeth declared, "It was wholly unexpected. I cannot tell you what I felt when I heard him speak; I had barely realized he had entered until I felt his hand upon my cheek."

Realizing she had revealed so improper a detail, Elizabeth blushed heavily and willed herself to be silent. Jane started at this and said, "Your Mr. Darcy is very bold."

Smiling slightly, Elizabeth observed, "He is very kind and good; I believe his behavior surprised him as much as it did me. I believe he has always felt the need to constantly restrain his actions and thoughts, for he does not like attention, and fears disappointing those he cares for."

"If that is so, then you are his ideal match," Jane asserted, passing a newly-dampened cloth across Elizabeth's flushed cheeks.

Laughing softly, Elizabeth asked, "Why? Because I am as wild and impulsive as Mama says?"

"No," Jane answered softly, moving to clasp Elizabeth's hand. "You are what he desires, because you are lively, honest, and accepting. I believe you are just what he needs."

Elizabeth thanked her sister for the compliment, and reclining further into the soft pillows behind her, she enjoyed her sister's quiet presence, and at her sister's request, began recounting Mr. Darcy's arrival and those sweet sentiments he spoke.

Mr. Bennet twisted his gloves anxiously, creasing the already worn leather. His knuckles whitened with the pressure of his hold on them, and looking down, he realized that if he continued so, he would do them irrevocable damage. Tossing them harshly onto the seat beside him, he sighed in impatience. Glancing across the darkened carriage, he noticed Mr. Bingley sat with his arms crossed and head bowed low; his breath slow and even with sleep. Shaking his head, Mr. Bennet wished he could find even a moment of such respite, for he had not slept the previous evening, and his worry over Elizabeth weighed heavily on him. He passed a shaking over his eyes, rubbing slowly at his forehead in attempt to relieve the pressure there. Sighing deeply, he laid his head back, and looking toward the window, studied the scenery grimly. He watched the bustling crowd outside absently -- on another day, their antics would have pleased him greatly -- and instead recollected the events of the previous evening, and the painful, sleepless night that followed.

"Mr. Bennet!" his wife had cried agitatedly as she unceremoniously flew into his library. "You will never guess who has come!"

Mr. Bennet had glanced up from the heavy volume in his hands, and looked toward his wife curiously. Since the departure of his eldest daughters, he had found little peace at Longbourn, for their mother seemed constantly agitated without their presence, and Lydia and Catherine appeared even more ridiculous. He retired to his library immediately following supper, and remained there until he was prepared to retire. Closing his book with a snap, his brow rose in amusement as he watched his wife wave her handkerchief excitedly.

"I see no reason for guessing who has come, my dear," he answered lightly. "And should I guess incorrectly, you will surely tell me the correct answer; therefore, I believe we should dispense with my guessing all together."

"Oh, Mr. Bennet, you are so irksome!" Mrs. Bennet complained. "You must take away every ounce of my amusement. It is Mr. Bingley who has come! He is waiting in the parlor as we speak, and says he has a pressing matter of business to discuss with us. He requested I fetch you immediately, though I cannot fathom what he should require to talk to you about."

Taking a deep breath to center her frenzied thoughts, Mrs. Bennet's eyes grew wide in realization and she exclaimed, "He must wish to speak with you about Jane!"

Laying his book aside and removing his spectacles, Mr. Bennet asked innocently, "Why ever would he wish to speak about Jane? I thought it was a hopeless business."

"As did I," Mrs. Bennet admitted sadly. "But perhaps he has seen the error of his ways, or that odious Mr. Darcy has encouraged him to return to Hertfordshire, though I cannot imagine why he would do so."

Rising from his seat and smoothing his waistcoat, he declared, "Whatever the cause of his coming, I shall not keep him waiting. Lead the way, my dear, and I will follow."

Mrs. Bennet blushed prettily, and quickly swept from the room before he moved after her. On entering the drawing room, Mr. Bennet immediately perceived the young man in question before the hearth, his gaze turned fixedly on the flames and his arm leaning tiredly against the mantle. Mr. Bennet studied Mr. Bingley carefully, reflecting that this was not the same man of boundless energy. His brow furrowed worriedly, and he recognized that such a visit was not to impart some joyous news.

Mr. Bingley turned his light eyes, saddened and tired, toward him, and greeting him quietly, moved tentatively toward him. Mr. Bennet received him well, grasping his hand surely and welcoming him back to Hertfordshire. He watched Mr. Bingley flinch as Mrs. Bennet inquired loudly whether or not he meant to remain, or whether he had seen Jane in London, for she had been there this past week. Seeing Mr. Bingley pale slightly, Mr. Bennet felt his heart leap fearfully, and he felt, though he knew not why, that Mr. Bingley's silence and unhappy countenance were the result of some tragedy that had befallen his girls.

"What have you to speak with me about, sir?" he asked apprehensively, his complexion paling noticeably.

Sighing deeply, Mr. Bingley confessed, "It is your daughter, Miss Elizabeth."

Mrs. Bennet inhaled sharply at this, and Mary, who read at the table, stood from her seat and moved immediately toward her mother. Catherine and Lydia looked on in wonder, their young eyes wide and curious.

Closing his eyes, Mr. Bennet's heart fell, and he felt himself sick with the sudden fear that welled within him. Pressing a hand to his mouth to steady himself, he said quietly, "Please tell us everything."

Moving toward the chair by the fire, Mr. Bennet sat heavily upon it, and looking toward Mr. Bingley, nodded slightly in encouragement. Mr. Bingley quietly related Elizabeth's condition, assuring the family that everything was being done for her comfort.

"Mr. Darcy has sent for his physician," Mr. Bingley declared evenly. "I am certain there is no one more capable of seeing to your daughter."

"Mr. Darcy knows our troubles?" Mary asked softly, holding her mother's arm and guiding her gently to the settee.

Mr. Bingley nodded gravely and admitted, "It is his carriage that has brought me."

Mr. Bennet listened to this news distractedly, his mind filling with images of Elizabeth's sickroom four years ago. Shaking his head sadly, he declared, "We shall leave at once."

"Pemberley's horses are among the very best," Mr. Bingley said somewhat enviously. "But I believe the team should rest for a few hours at the very least."

"Of course," Mr. Bennet agreed quietly. "You must be quite tired yourself; I shall fetch Hill to bring you something."

Rising wearily from his seat, Mr. Bennet moved toward the door and out into the hallway. Once there, he leaned heavily against the wall, looking to the ceiling in prayer.

‘Not my Lizzy,' he thought sadly. ‘Not my Lizzy.'

Now, as the fine conveyance bumped and lurched along the cobblestone, Mr. Bennet felt his chest hitch with the memory of his wife's weeping and Mary's steadfast composure. Following Mr. Bingley's retiring to one of the guest rooms, Mary quickly saw that her mother was brought to her room and made comfortable; her smelling salts and remedies easily reached at her small side table should she feel her faintness come upon her again. Mary quickly returned to him in the parlor and inquired if he was in need of anything. When he answered the negative, she wavered in indecision in the doorframe for a moment before moving toward him and embracing him tightly.

"All will be well," she whispered, releasing him and turning to return above stairs.

Pausing in her departure and looking over her shoulder, she declared, "I will pray for Lizzy, Papa; I am certain she will come back to us. She did last time."

Opening his eyes, and smiling at his daughter's assertion, Mr. Bennet realized impatiently that they were among the roads of Cheapside. Looking ahead in anticipation, he slowly discerned the dim outline of his brother-in-law's home. Inhaling sharply, he looked toward his companion and noticed that he too looked through the pristine glass of the carriage door. When the carriage drew to halt, Mr. Bingley quickly sprang from his seat and descended. While he gave instructions to the driver, Mr. Bennet lowered himself slowly to the ground, his feet landing with a wet slap against the muddied stones beneath them. It had begun snowing again, and moving the collar of his well-worn greatcoat closer to his neck, he quickly climbed the few steps to the door and rang the bell.

Darcy moved his finger along the edge of his brandy glass distractedly, his mind turning over the conversation that was to come. Mr. Gardiner had been gone a full twenty minutes, at least. Once they had arrived in the drawing room, the usually courteous gentleman quickly made known that he must speak with his wife on a matter of importance.

"I will return in a moment," he professed as he bustled from the room.

Glancing toward the clock, Darcy noted unhappily that the hour had grown so late, he had already missed dinner, and surely Georgiana would want news of Elizabeth. He sighed slightly, feeling that he desperately wished to have Mr. Gardiner's reprimands over with, for he wanted nothing more than to enjoy the knowledge of Elizabeth's being his intended without worry. Setting his brandy aside, he passed a frustrated hand through his hair before rising from his seat. He moved slowly about the room, taking in its comfortable furnishings as they glowed in the candlelight. Stopping before the simple pianoforte in the corner, he ran his fingers delicately along the cool ivory, and wondered if Elizabeth had done so as well during her visit. Smiling, he lowered himself onto the bench, adjusting the tails of his coat, and looking over the instrument appreciatively. Raising his other hand, he slid it lightly up and down the keys as he recalled his mother's favorite melody. Curving his strong fingers over the keys, he tentatively pressed down the first few notes. He paused, looking about the room guiltily, but hearing no one in the hallway beyond, and feeling he had neglected his own practicing for far too long, he began again.

The notes lightly filled the room, echoing softly against the walls and filling him with a sense of comfort. He recalled his mother's bright eyes watching him from her place beside him, a small smile of satisfaction spreading across her pale countenance. Even years after Georgiana's difficult birth, she was forced to spend many a day indoors to aid her convalescence. She often called him from his studies to come play for her, and though his father frowned unhappily at his abandoning his Latin, he always relented, and followed him into the music room where he joined his wife on the settee. Darcy played fluently; his talent, though less than Elizabeth's, easily rivaled Georgiana's. He closed his eyes lightly, his body swaying slightly with the sweet chords.

"It is a beautiful story," his mother had always commented when he struck the final chords and she clapped appreciatively.

Pausing in his playing, Darcy folded his hands in his lap and recollected the verses that accompanied the piece. They spoke of a beautiful pastoral setting and the love a young man held for a fair maiden.

His mother always smiled as she lightly sung the words, her sweet soprano swelling above the notes. "It is a most perfect rendering of the emotion," she observed quietly. "It reveals all things seen and unseen, felt and imagined, that love offers us."

Sighing contentedly, Darcy agreed heartily, now that he had experienced such affection. Raising his hands again, he played the final notes, and reflected on his relief in knowing Elizabeth was out of danger at least for now.

‘No,' he corrected himself sternly. ‘We will keep her well.'

He lifted his fingers from the keys and allowed the notes to dissipate. Closing his eyes, he recalled Elizabeth quietly accepting him before gently moving her comforting hands through his hair. His breath caught at the memory of the sensation, and his heart swelled with the realization that such happiness would greet him every day after they married.

‘Not so hasty; you must speak with her father first,' his mind asserted. ‘That is, if her uncle even allows you to, after your rash behavior.'

He laughed lightly, feeling that never in his life had he so entirely flouted the rigid laws of proper deportment. Shaking his head in wonder, he could only attribute it to the paralyzing fear he felt with the possibility of Elizabeth's death. He shivered at the thought, rubbing his arms lightly in an effort to remove the chill. Distracted as he was, he did not hear the approach of the two gentlemen behind him until a familiar voice addressed him from the doorway.

"My God, Darcy; I had no idea you were such a proficient!" Bingley exclaimed in wonder.

Darcy turned swiftly about, his eyes wide, before standing clumsily and bowing his greeting to Mr. Bennet, who stood silent and pale at Bingley's side. "It is good to see you, sir," Darcy said as he studied the man's drawn countenance. "Forgive me for not noticing you there; I became quite distracted."

Mr. Bennet merely nodded to this, before professing a desperate wish to speak with Mr. Gardiner, and to see his second eldest. Realizing the gentleman was still unaware of his daughter's slow recovery, and uncertain where Mr. Gardiner was, Darcy strode forward.

He slowly laid his hand upon Mr. Bennet's shoulder and declared, "She is out of danger."

Darcy watched as Mr. Bennet started at this news; his grey eyes widening in surprise before filling with a profound show of relief. "Is it certain?" he asked hopefully.

"My physician is with her now," Darcy declared, lowering his hand and moving to turning his ring absently.

Hearing this intelligence for the second time, Mr. Bennet shook his head in amazement that so illustrious a gentleman could offer such service to his family. Reaching for Mr. Darcy's hand, he clasped it surely and declared, "Thank you for all you have done, sir."

Darcy blushed at this open show of gratitude; he had never been comfortable with praise, and averting his eyes, he merely nodded. Sighing slightly, he could not help but say, "Please do not thank me; I believe I thought only of your daughter, and wished to give her comfort. I could have done nothing else, and I expect no gratitude."

Mr. Bennet assessed the young man before him, his suspicions regarding Mr. Darcy's intentions toward Elizabeth resurfacing. "You have my gratefulness nonetheless," he added evenly.

Darcy studied the older gentleman, his dark eyes taking in Mr. Bennet's genuine smile and tired countenance. His mouth fell into a grim line, for he did not wish Mr. Bennet to accept him as a son on the ground of gratitude and pity, but for no other reason than believing him to be Elizabeth's match in every way. Clasping his hands behind his back, Darcy listened as Bingley politely excused himself.

"I shall return to Grosvenor Street, for I am certain Caroline and Louisa are beside themselves with worry. I had only time enough to pen them a short missive of explanation before I departed yesterday," he declared easily.

Offering his hand to Mr. Bennet, he added, "I am most heartily thankful for Miss Elizabeth's recovery, and I wish her continued health."

"Thank you for your assistance," Mr. Bennet said, shaking Mr. Bingley's hand firmly.

Bingley smiled brightly before bowing respectfully, and turning on his heel, he departed. Darcy looked toward Mr. Bennet, his chest tightening nervously as he recognized the transparency of his attentions toward Elizabeth.

"If you will excuse my impatience, Mr. Darcy," Mr. Bennet began. "I would like nothing more than to see my Lizzy, and assure myself that she is well."

Berating himself for not offering to accompany him sooner, Darcy answered, "Of course you do. As I do not know where Mr. Gardiner is at the time, allow me to show you the way."

If Mr. Bennet thought it strange that the young man before him knew the location of his daughter's room, he did not express it, but merely smiled blithely and arched his brow in curiosity. Darcy blushed heavily, recognizing what he had inadvertently revealed, and praying silently that Mr. Bennet would not call him out immediately, he straightened his shoulders and moved toward the hallway. They ascended the stairs leisurely, each thinking on the personality and opinion of the gentleman beside him.

On reaching the landing, Darcy admitted reluctantly that it would not do to go any further, for he feared Mr. Gardiner's reaction, and he declared quietly, "You will find her at the end of the hallway."

Mr. Bennet smirked slightly, and thanking him, added wryly, "It was very lucky that you knew where I could find her, for since my brother and sister are nowhere to be found, I surely never would have found my way."

Turning his wide eyes swiftly to the floorboards, he stammered, "Yes; quite lucky. I will leave you now."

With that, he turned quickly and descended the stairs, gripping the banister tightly in frustration and in an effort to calm his racing heart. Berating himself savagely for his foolishness, his mind screamed, ‘He will think you a perfect rake!'

Shaking his head slightly, his stature remained rigid, and with great effort, he put into place his customary calm and stoic mask. Before he reached the bottom, he heard Mr. Bennet clear his throat loudly and call his name. His fists curling in an effort to contain his fear, Darcy bit his lip and looked up toward Mr. Bennet's form.

"Sir?" he asked, willing his voice steady.

"I hope we might play that promised game of chess while I am in Town," Mr. Bennet answered easily, his grey eyes twinkling delightedly. "It is a pleasure I have long looked forward to."

Darcy remained still for a moment, his mind slowly registering the request before recognizing its perfect sincerity. Breathing deeply, Darcy allowed himself to smile slightly before answering, "I would be honored."

Before Mr. Bennet could continue his slow torture of the man, Mr. Darcy bowed once more and hurried down the last few steps. Mr. Bennet looked over the railing and watched in amusement as he disappeared into the drawing room, and no longer able to contain himself, he laughed lightly. He enjoyed the feeling after the hours of fear he had experienced the previous day, and nodding lightly, he admitted he was very well pleased with the young man from Derbyshire.

"A worthy man indeed," he mused softly before smiling gratefully and moving down the hallway.