Page 38 of Saved By Mr. Darcy
“Will you…Miss Elizabeth Bennet, will you consent to being my wife? Will you stay with me?”
“Yes, Mr Darcy. I will.”
Chapter Eleven
Surely, this must be a dream. To stand by the lake in his favourite place in the world, to be told that he was loved just as he loved… No, it must be real, for it was better and sweeter than any dream he had ever known.
“You…you will?” he asked. “You will marry me?”
“Will you not smile at me, Mr Darcy? I thought you would be happier at the news.”
He felt his lips tug into a smile, though he could still not believe that it was true.
“I will do my best to be a fair and honourable husband to you, Miss Elizabeth.”
“I do not doubt that. And I shall try not to tease you too much.”
“You may tease me as much as you desire, if that is what you wish. I am at your service.”
She laughed at that, and he stared in wonder as a tear slipped down her cheek. He reached up, brushing it away with his thumb. She smiled, her hand rising to keep his hand against hercheek. They stayed there in that happy embrace for some time, the world around them melting away.
“Let us keep it a secret until you have written to my father,” Miss Elizabeth whispered. “Let there be no talk of impropriety.”
“Of course. I will write to him today! Now! I will write to him now!”
“I have never seen you like this,” she laughed. “I like it very much, that I could bring you happiness. Take me back to the house, and then write to my father. Oh, I wish there was a way to tell him at this very moment.”
“I am sorry that you cannot.”
“Oh, what will Jane make of all this!”
“She will be displeased?”
“Surprised, I think. Come, Mr Darcy. Let us go back, for you have a very important letter to write!”
He did as he was bid, and they walked in happy silence back to the house. Miss Elizabeth asked to go to her room to rest, and he retired to his study. He could not help the smile that had remained on his face since Miss Elizabeth’s instruction. He wondered if it would ever fade.
He pulled out a piece of paper, readying his quill. His hand trembled as he dipped it in the ink, and he willed himself to be composed. It would not do to send the most important letter of his life stained with dots of ink. Darcy had never composed such a letter - nor had he considered what he might write. Eventually, after the candle had burned down and he had stared at the wall for some time, he decided that he must simply state his wishes as plainly as he could.
Dear Mr Bennet,
I write to you to ask for your daughter, Miss Elizabeth Bennet’s hand in marriage. I understand that this may be unexpected, and indeed unorthodox as your daughter is currently in residence at my home. I can assure you that my intention to ask Miss Elizabeth for her hand is one I possessed long before she came to Pemberley.
I admire Miss Bennet greatly, and to have her as my wife would be a privilege and an honour. I humbly ask for your permission in this union.
Your faithful servant,
Fitzwilliam Darcy
He closed the letter and sealed it with wax. For a moment, he dared to think what would happen if her father rejected the proposal. Elizabeth’s approval was all that mattered, but society dictated that her father had the final say. He rose from his chair and left the room, finding his valet and handing the letter to him.
“See that this letter arrives in Hertfordshire at once. Send a messenger. It is of vital importance and there must be no delay.”
“Yes, sir.”
Darcy did not know what to do with himself. He felt giddy, an emotion he was entirely unfamiliar with. How love could change a man, for he felt light as a feather. He wanted nothing more than to see Miss Elizabeth, even if not a word was spoken. But he must remember himself; now, more than ever, they would need to adhere to proper social etiquette.
At the thought of that, he realised that there were many people he would need to tell. He had been in utter seclusion in theweeks since the accident, focused only on their guests and ignoring all correspondence. It was only a matter of time until word got out of what had happened – and now, a betrothal had emerged in the strangest of circumstances. He was sure that the gossip rags would soon be aflame with the news.
