Kara Louise: Only Mr. Darcy Will Do

For a brief moment, Elizabeth noticed a look of grief and resignation pass over Caroline’s features, but just as quickly, she threw back her shoulders and lifted her head high. “May I offer you my congratulations? I hope you will be happy.” She then turned and walked stiffly and quickly away.

Elizabeth waited a few moments before turning to Darcy, who was shaking his head in Caroline’s direction. Elizabeth gave his hand a furtive squeeze. “I feel rather sorry for her.”

“It is because you are not like her. You are not meanspirited.” He turned and looked at Elizabeth. His hand cradled her chin, tilting her face up toward him. “We ought to announce our engagement soon.”

Elizabeth met his gaze. “I believe you are right.”

There was only one thing Elizabeth wished to do, however, before they formally announced their engagement, but she was not sure how to bring it about. Later, as she spoke with Georgiana about the small gathering coming up at Pemberley in a few days, she asked her if she had any ideas on how she could accomplish this.

Georgiana thought a moment and then smiled. “Yes,” she said. “I think I do.”

It was morning, and Elizabeth was already sitting up in bed when Anna tapped at the door. She bid her come in, and Anna quietly and most efficiently helped Elizabeth dress. She was proving to be an exceptional personal maid. Elizabeth not only appreciated her friendliness but her excellence at all she did.

She was not at Braedenthorn, however. She was at Pemberley. After a small gathering the night before, she surreptitiously slipped out of the carriage as it made its way out the circle drive. Unbeknownst to Darcy, Georgiana brought her back in through a side entrance and skirted her up to the room that had been hers on her stay here.

Once Elizabeth was dressed, she put on her mud boots. Then she and Anna quietly took the back staircase down and walked out through Pemberley’s courtyard, to avoid encountering Darcy. Georgiana had taken measures with Mr. Grant, her brother’s valet, to ensure that he would hike up the ridge that morning. Mr. Grant was to have given him assurances that the sunrise “looked to be spectacular,” but he also conveniently delayed him somewhat until he heard the “all is clear” tap. That meant Elizabeth had already preceded him down.

The morning was only just beginning to dawn as she began her climb up the ridge. Fortunately, the sky had cleared, and while the path was slightly damp, it was not terribly muddy. When she reached the summit, it seemed as though nothing, in all directions, was yet awake.

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!”