Chapters 21 & 22 A Test of Fire

When Elizabeth arrived at Netherfield Park, a carriage waited in the drive. She pulled the reins of Franny to bring the horse to a stop as Mr. Darcy opened the door to the carriage and leapt out. He took the place of groom, before handing the reins to the footman who scrambled down from his post to help his Master.

Her cheeks reddened from the cold and wind of riding so quickly, her forest green cloak askew from where it had been carefully pinned, she cared not about her appearance. Looking down at his waiting strong hands, she beamed at him and allowed the man who had so thoroughly disturbed her peace to gently help her dismount.

“My eyes cannot believe it, you are here,” he whispered.

“My father had a spy,” she explained, realizing he had not released her yet. Frustrated at the slowness of her rider’s dismount, Franny grew restless and stomped on the ground, shaking her neck. Two groomsmen approached as Fitzwilliam protectively shielded Elizabeth from the impatient beast. Giggling as she was ensconced against his great coat, she pushed back to speak clearly.

“If you feed her, she will settle splendidly,” Elizabeth explained.

“But she needs  a cool down, sir?” the groomsman asked Mr. Darcy.

Mr. Darcy looked to Elizabeth and when she shook her head, he echoed her order. “The lady knows her animal. Feed the horse and then allow her a walk in the paddock.”

As Mr. Darcy began to escort Elizabeth to the steps, a voice called out from the carriage. Fitzwilliam cringed and covered his face with his gloved hands briefly. “Forgive me, I must have been distracted,” he said. 

“Yes, you must be,” Elizabeth said, laughing as she waved warmly to the young woman calling for Fitzwilliam.

Double stepping back to the carriage, Mr. Darcy assisted his sister down, and she wasted no time with a silly escort. Laughing, she walked faster than her brother, and hurriedly curtsied before Elizabeth, the antics of the sister and brother granting Elizabeth the most comforting comedic performance.

“You must be Miss Elizabeth Bennet,” she squeaked, so overcome with excitement. “I am Georgiana Darcy,” she said, curtsying again.

Elizabeth nodded as Fitzwilliam hurried up behind his sister, huffing from the doubled efforts of physical exertion.

“Georgiana, you should wait for an introduction.”

“Yes, Brother, I ought to wait,” she said, obediently, then flashed a smile to Elizabeth and leaned in with a conspiratorial whisper, “but he didn’t wait, did he?”

Elizabeth shook her head in agreement.

Exasperated to be outvoted for the first time, Mr. Darcy escorted both of the women inside and Elizabeth suddenly felt a wave of nervousness grip her heart as it was one thing to be so spun up into a need to act, that she rode directly over to Netherfield Park. It was an entirely different problem now that she was in Mr. Darcy’s presence and she did not concoct a plan beyond seeing Mr. Darcy.

Leading the ladies to the first floor parlor in a desultory fashion, Mr. Darcy whispered to the butler, Mr. Nichols, for a message to be sent to Longbourn to alert the household of Miss Elizabeth’s safe arrival. Elizabeth blushed as she caught Mr. Nichols’ eye and was about to look away in shame, but the former valet for Mr. Bennet winked at the young woman he’d known since she was in swaddling clothes.

“Right away, sir,” he agreed. 

To all appearances, the manner in which the staff listened to Mr. Darcy, no one would have guessed he was not lord and master of the home. 

The parlor, cast in the ghosts of white sheets for the last five Christmas seasons, stood decorated as though to make up for lost time. The heavy curtains were drawn to allow in the preciously short winter sunlight, with tallow candles burning in a dozen candelabras to match the sun’s rays in warmth in the corners where the large bay windows did not reach. Someone had covered the mantle in the forest’s offerings filling the room with a scent that masked the candles: a mixture of pine sap and the woodsy earthiness of evergreen branches.

Elizabeth stood arrested by the sight and welcoming smells of the room, before turning around to see Mr. Darcy staring intently at her. She unfastened her cloak and handed the outdoor garment to the maid waiting upon her. Mr. Darcy shed his great coat to reveal the fine cut of his navy blue coat. 

“What a relief we did not leave for Longbourn,” Georgiana announced as the servants left the room. “I shall return right away,” she said, bowing out of the parlor before her brother could say a word.

Suddenly alone, Elizabeth and Mr. Darcy chuckled at each other, looking away briefly in embarrassment. Finally, he approached her, and lifting her hand, led her over to sit near the fireplace.

“Your hands are very cold,” he commented.

She shrugged. “I should have worn thicker gloves.”

Another silence fell as they both struggled with what to say. Elizabeth recalled her father’s observation of Mr. Darcy that he was not one to fill a silence with unnecessary words. At the moment, however, she recalled many words that felt very necessary.

Suddenly, they both tried to speak at once, adding more to the morning’s folly. When they both waited again, Mr. Darcy spoke first. 

“Merry Christmas, Elizabeth,” he offered.

Elizabeth leaned forward in her seat. “How did you know to come?”

He reached into his coat to retrieve the contents of his vest pocket. A tattered piece of ribbon and a simple piece of parchment, folded. Opening it, he cleared his throat and recited. 

“No matter what your aunt says, return here and any question you might ask me, you’ll have my hearty consent,” he said, not daring to look up at her. Folding it and putting it away again, he held the shred of ribbon between his forefinger and thumb. “It was not signed, but my aunt did come to Pemberley with the most horrific tale of her behavior to date. And I’m sorry,” he uttered, his voice cracking as he imagined the worst imaginable and finally braved looking at his beloved. “I am so sorry she ever came to abuse you,” he said.

Elizabeth blanched, but watched his fingers earnestly rub the ribbon. She suddenly understood how his worry and anxiety had matched her own, taken out upon the poor token of her esteem. She forced herself to look at him and gave him an honest smile.

“It is well, now that you are here.”

She reached out and placed her hand over his, holding the ribbon so fiercely. Her touch stilled his fingers, and she heard him gasp. But this was as far as she could go, she had sent the note and rode to Netherfield Park. He had to close the final gap in their understanding. 

Thankfully, he understood the pleading in her eyes.

“Our separation tormented me every moment, I worried needlessly, thanks to the hope my aunt granted to me, that your regard for me, what little existed before I left, would dwindle.”

“Quite the opposite! You had not quit the county but a few hours and I began to suspect I was the most foolish woman in all of England to warn you off.”

“I knew enough of your disposition to be certain that, had you been absolutely, irrevocably decided against me, you would have acknowledged it to Lady Catherine, frankly and openly—”

Again, she allowed her nerves to overtake her into an outburst of humility. “Yes, you know enough of my frankness to believe me capable of that.”

He looked at her with a conflicted expression on his face. Still, setting the ribbon aside, he reached out for her hands. “I dearly love and admire your frankness, from the first night I ever met you. Everyone wears a mask to curry favor, and neither of us performs for strangers.”

Elizabeth sucked in her breath at such an admission and this time, held her tongue to see what else he might say.

“But I also am enraptured by your wit, kindness, and loveliness of spirit,” he added. At these accolades, she again found it difficult to accept.

“You can hardly believe me all of those things,” she said.

He released her hand and tapped the side of his nose. “Your father is a most helpful correspondent. Did you not paint a likeness of your friend and her sister for her family?”

“Yes, but with your kindness,” she said, squeezing his hand that had held onto hers. Turning the tables on him, she began to enumerate his flattering qualities. “From you, I have learned what true selfless behavior and the burden of responsibility for others looks like in a gentleman.”

She gazed fiercely at him to make sure he understood the contrast she was making.

When their eyes met, each knew there was never any reason to doubt the other again. Slowly, Mr. Darcy took a knee before her.

“Please, Elizabeth Bennet, will you consent to be my wife?” he asked.

“It shall be my honor. Yes!” she exclaimed, allowing him to pull her up from her seat as he rose, and into an embrace.

Mr. Darcy leaned his head down, but did not force a kiss upon Elizabeth. He barely nodded down in her direction than he suddenly felt her lips pressed against his, and then again, and again as the two learned the rhythm of this new exchange of affection. Finally, they both laughed just as the doors to the parlor opened, with Miss Bingley and Georgiana entering.

“Mr. Darcy—” Caroline Bingley started, before halting midstep to find Miss Elizabeth Bennet in a scandalous embrace with the gentleman. Georgiana rushed forward, jostling the shocked Miss Bingley with her shoulder as she maneuvered around her, caring not for the offense to her hostess.

“Is it done? Am I to have a sister?” she eagerly asked, approaching them both as Mr. Darcy refused to relinquish the woman who agreed to be his bride after such a test of fire.

“Yes, I have secured her consent,” he explained, grinning to Miss Bingley and Mr. Nichols who silently poked his head into the parlor.

Elizabeth accepted Georgiana’s hug, and the woman’s remonstration of her earlier words. 

“Five. I shall have five sisters!” she remembered, earning a nod from  the sister she knew she would love best. “Fitzwilliam,” she said her brother’s name in a most serious voice, “you waited awfully late to deliver your Christmas gift!” 

“Yes, yes he did, but it was the best gift of all, wasn’t it?” Elizabeth said, earning an imperceptible squeeze from the man that would be by her side for the rest of her days. 

As they made preparations to ride to Longbourn and share the happy news, with a groom riding Franny back so Elizabeth could ride in the carriage, she couldn’t wait to tell Jane her greatest hope had come true. And her sister had been entirely right, as her lips still buzzed from the exchanges she had with Fitzwilliam. Kissing was indeed a dangerous behavior, and she could not wait to do it again! 

The announcement of Mr. Darcy’s engagement to Elizabeth Bennet on Christmas Day of 1811 cheered all of the hearts of those closest to the couple, save for Miss Caroline Bingley. She thought to perhaps thwart Mr. Darcy’s engagement with Elizabeth, as she coveted the man for herself. Thankfully, Mr. Darcy took another idea from his aunt and applied the day after Christmas for a common license from the same vicar who observed their first understanding weeks ago in his churchyard.

From the ashes of the fire that consumed so much rose the beautifully bonded Bennet sisters and their beaus, united in a double wedding that lifted the spirits of their neighbors. No one forgot their loved ones lost on the fateful night of the Assembly, but a wedding reminded all that new beginnings were yet to come. Perhaps happiest of all was Mr. Bennet, as he helped his wife into the carriage after the wedding breakfast at Netherfield Park.

“I told you those two gentlemen would do good for our girls. And you were entirely wrong, Mr. Bennet, about the dark coat,” Mrs. Bennet said, waving her handkerchief one last time to her daughter, Jane, now Mrs. Bingley standing upon the top step with her husband.

“Indeed, indeed, the man suits Lizzy nicely and even spared me the trouble of a second ceremony!”

The End