Page 81 of The Heroic Mr Darcy's Bad Manners
“I suggest we return to town and wed as soon as possible.”
The expression of heartfelt delight suffused over his face became him very well.
“You cannot imagine the effects your sentiments have on me. I have wished, longed, and prayed for your approbation. Despite my fear of being deemed conceited, I am excessively proud to become your husband.”
Such expression of sentiment could have only one effect on a girl madly in love. She rose, and by default, he did as well. They met in the middle for a violent expression of love. They remained thus engaged until their kiss was broken by the sound of the knocker, which notified them that guests had arrived. Hand in hand they left the library and walked to the entrance hall with nary a thought for what the servants might think.
Miss Eudora Darcy took one look at their joined hands and clapped her own together. “Brava, or should I say bravo. Whoever instigated this happy conclusion, it was about time. Would you not agree, Maeve?”
“Indeed, I am quite tired of scheming to bring the two together. A respite is most welcome.”
“There is still Mary, Kitty, and Lydia,” Miss Eudora Darcy reminded her friend.
“Heaven help us!” Mrs Bennet complained with feeling. “We have come to take you to Edensor, Elizabeth. I see that a change of attire would not go amiss…”
Elizabeth looked down at her sodden hems and shrugged.
“I shall see you in an hour or two.” Darcy spoke as if trying to convince himself that an hour was not that long. “We are to dine at Edensor tonight.”
“Yes,” she agreed breathlessly. Then before she changed her mind, she followed her grandmother out to the waiting carriage.
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Darcy
Darcy approached Richard’s chamber with long strides; his elation was of such a nature that needed to be shared. He rapped on the door and impatiently waited for footsteps to approach, but hearing nothing, he knocked a second time with more force. Finally, the rustling sound of fabric could be heard, then his cousin’s slow footsteps moved towards the door only to open it a fraction to peer out at him.
“What the deuce do you want?”
Richard was in his shirt with bare feet and rumpled hair.
“We are expected at Edensor for dinner in little more than an hour, and you are still sleeping,” Darcy admonished.
His cousin blushed, as he should.
“I was hoping to entice you to have a tumbler of port with me in my study.”
“We need to dress for dinner,” Richard reminded him.
“Formality be hanged!” he growled impatiently.
“I have never thought you would eschew propriety and have me scandalising your servants in my night-shirt.”
“You have never seen me this happy,” Darcy admitted in brutal earnestness.
Richard chuckled but could not be persuaded.
“Go to your suite and make yourself presentable to your betrothed. You should begin by washing that smug look off your face.”
“Dearest, I do not begrudge you a moment with your cousin,” the dulcet voice of Lady Jane drifted from within the room.
Darcy had completely forgotten about her presence. He had appointed them with a suite of rooms, and the idea that she might have joined his cousin in his room had quite escaped him. The thought planted conjectures in his mind for when he was a married man himself, and he turned abruptly towards the master’s suite.
“That will not be necessary. Darcy is leaving to dress for dinner, as should we.”
The door closed behind him as he walked, deliriously happy, to his own chamber.
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