She walked over to the bench that sat atop the ridge and took a seat. Her heart raced relentlessly as she waited. It was but a moment later that she heard the sound of twigs cracking from the path. She sat very still, keeping her eyes on the place at the summit where the path would bring him up.
She turned her head slightly when Darcy appeared. He stepped toward the edge of the ridge and looked down the other side. She could see that he looked toward Braedenthorn. It even appeared as though he looked down toward the paths that came up from there. She smiled quietly as she wondered whether he thought she would actually hike up all that way in the darkness.
He seemed so riveted as he looked out at the valley that Elizabeth wondered whether he would ever notice her. She finally decided to take matters into her own hands. “Ahem.” She cleared her throat, prompting Mr. Darcy to spin around.
He did not take the time to greet her or even ask what she was doing there or how she got up there. In a few long strides he came to stand in front of her and took her hands, pulling her to her feet. He wrapped his arms about her in a firm embrace and fervently pressed his lips to hers.
Elizabeth was so completely astonished by his fervour, so enthralled by his ardent display, that she felt she would collapse to the ground if she did not grasp onto him more firmly. He must have sensed this, for his grip tightened about her.
At last, reluctantly, he slowly drew away. “Pray, forgive me, Elizabeth.” He took in two deep breaths. “I have come up here so often, thinking of sharing the view and the sunrise…” He lifted her chin with two of his fingers, “…with you. Consequently, when I saw you, I could not even utter a polite, ‘Good morning,’ or ‘I am pleased you have come!’”
He leant over and briefly kissed her lips again. He drew back and said, “I am delighted to see you here, but heavens! You must have hiked up here in the complete darkness!”
“I wished to keep my promise.” Elizabeth lifted her fingers tentatively to push back some strands of hair that had fallen across his forehead. “However, I did not climb up from Braedenthorn. I stayed at Pemberley last night. Your sister helped me so you would not find out.”
“You spent the night at Pemberley?” he asked as he studied her face in the predawn morn.
“I did. Now, come, sit down. I thought we could sit on the bench just as we did in Town.”
“In Town?”
Elizabeth nodded at him. “Yes, we can sit exactly as we did there.”
Darcy narrowed his eyes at her, pondering her meaning. They sat down, and Darcy took her hand.
“Good,” Elizabeth said. “You remembered.”
Darcy’s brows rose. “Ah, yes. I took your hand.” He sat quietly for a moment and then asked, “Are we now to talk of apologies for my aunt’s behaviour and then Georgiana?”
Elizabeth shook her head. “I think not.”
Darcy pursed his lips. “Rosings?”
“Definitely not!” she laughed.
Darcy smiled. While it appeared he was trying to subdue the elation he felt, in case he was in error, Elizabeth knew that he had comprehended what her words and her joining him meant.
He grasped her hand tightly and looked at her. Their eyes remained fixed on each other. “Elizabeth,” he said softly. “I fear I cannot do all things exactly as we did in London!”
With wide eyes, Elizabeth looked up at him. “You cannot?” she asked, her heart suddenly lurching with alarm.
He cradled her hands in his. “Not precisely.” After a pause he added, “I neglected to do this.”
He slid off the bench and knelt before her on one knee. “Elizabeth…” He looked down to reach for her hands when he suddenly stopped and began to chuckle. “Elizabeth, what is this?” He pulled the hem of her dress up slightly to reveal her mud boots.
“You know precisely what they are! Now… what were you about to say?” she asked coyly.
Taking her hands, he lifted them up and kissed each one, a smile still displayed on his lips. “My dearest Elizabeth, I would be the most honoured man of all Derbyshire, of all England, of the entire world, if you would consent to be my wife. Will you marry me?”
Elizabeth grinned and nodded, leaning toward Darcy to kiss both of his hands. “Of course I shall! With all my heart I accept your offer… to watch the sunrises, to explore the paths around Pemberley…”
“In your mud boots,” Darcy interjected.
“Yes, in my mud boots… and to read Cowper’s poems and Shakespeare’s sonnets… with you.”
Darcy chuckled. “Yes, all those things.” Very softly, he added, gazing intently at her, “And more.”
Elizabeth’s heart stirred within.
Raising a single brow, he asked, “May I finally announce it to the whole world?”
Elizabeth nodded. “You certainly may, Fitzwilliam.”
At that moment, the top edge of the sun appeared, shining its light upon the couple. They both turned and watched as it made its slow ascent over the dark silhouette of the mountain, painting the sky in reds, oranges, and yellows.
Darcy walked over to the edge of the ridge looking down on Pemberley. He cupped his hands around his mouth and began to shout, “I AM GOING TO MARRY ELIZABETH BENNET!”
Elizabeth let out a hearty laugh. “Fitzwilliam Darcy! What will everyone think?”
He walked over and lifted her face to his. “I truly care not what anyone thinks!” He took her hand. “Come, we shall make sure everyone at Pemberley is awake and tell them the news. Then we shall go to Braedenthorn and inform everyone there!” Smiling, he added, “I wish the whole world to know!”
Chapter 29
The bells in the steeple at Pemberley church sent their chimes tolling across the countryside. Darcy paced back and forth in his chambers. He had been ready for more than an hour, but another hour still remained before he needed to set out for the church. For the third time in as many minutes, he stood in front of the full-length mirror, fingering his neckcloth and tugging at his coattails to straighten them.
His valet entered. “Is there anything further I can do for you, Mr. Darcy?”
Darcy shook his head. “Thank you, no.” He filled his lungs with a breath and then in a soft whisper said, “I just wish this was over with!”
“It shall be, sir. Very shortly.” Mr. Grant smoothed Darcy’s coat with his hand. “Just keep your eyes on Miss Bennet, sir. I guarantee everyone will have their eyes on her, as well.” With a smile, he added, “The groom is never as appealing as the bride.”
“This is most reassuring, Grant,” Darcy muttered.
The dependable valet reached up to Darcy’s neckcloth and tightened it in one place and straightened it in another. “May I say, sir, that I am quite certain she will make you a delightful wife!”
Darcy gave a tug on his coat. “Of that, I am most persuaded.” He then turned to Grant. “You may go. I should like some time to myself.”
“Yes, sir.”
Upon his valet’s departure, Darcy walked to the window and gazed out. Bracing his arms on the windowsill, he looked out over the front grounds of Pemberley, feeling a great surge of contentment. He let out an audible sigh and gave another tug on his coat.
Without bothering to knock, Colonel Fitzwilliam barged in. “Darcy!” he exclaimed. “Come join your family downstairs before the nuptials. You have spoken barely two words to my mother-in-law since we arrived. I have spent a great deal of energy since your engagement was announced making her see the good in it. And that,” the Colonel gave a tug to his cousin’s neckcloth, “after doing everything in my power to convince her to see the good in my marriage to Anne!”
“You are correct. I have neglected them far too long. I am just not inclined to participate in idle talk, as they will be of a mind to do.” Darcy paused as words escaped him as to the violence of his feelings. Softly, he said, “My heart is so full. I am happier than I can even believe myself to be.”