----------------------------------------
The day dawned with a sense of expectation, for it was to be marked by a visit to Longbourn in the company of my dear friend Bingley. We arrived earlier than anticipated, and I noted the look of momentary dread upon Elizabeth’s countenance, fearing we had been informed of Lady Catherine’s overbearing visit. Yet, before Mrs. Bennet could address the matter, Bingley, with intentions transparent to us all, proposed a walk. The suggestion was readily accepted, and thus we found ourselves traversing the familiar paths of Hertfordshire.
As fate would ordain, the party soon divided, allowing Bingley and Jane to indulge in the comfort of each other’s exclusive company. I was left with Elizabeth and her sister Kitty, who, either by design or happy chance, sought to visit Maria Lucas, granting Elizabeth and me a privacy that was both daunting and desired.
Our conversation was initially sparse, the weight of our shared history hanging between us. It was Elizabeth who broke the silence, her voice carrying the unmistakable timbre of resolve as she began, “Mr. Darcy, I am a very selfish creature, and for the sake of giving relief to my own feelings care not how much I may be wounding yours. I can no longer help thanking you for your unexampled kindness to my poor sister.”
Her forthright gratitude, though spoken with a concern for my feelings, was received with a mixture of surprise and emotion. “I am sorry, exceedingly sorry,” I replied, “that you have ever been informed of what may, in a mistaken light, have given you uneasiness. I did not think Mrs. Gardiner was so little to be trusted.”
“You must not blame my aunt. Lydia’s thoughtlessness first betrayed to me that you had been concerned in the matter; and, of course, I could not rest till I knew the particulars. Let me thank you again and again, in the name of all my family, for that generous compassion which induced you to take so much trouble, and bear so many mortifications, for the sake of discovering them.”
Our discourse evolved, and I found myself confessing the true impetus behind my actions. “If you will thank me,” I said, my gaze steady upon her, “let it be for yourself alone. That the wish of giving happiness to you might add force to the other inducements which led me on, I shall not attempt to deny. But your family owe me nothing. Much as I respect them, I believe I thought only of you.”
The admission hung heavily in the air, and I braced myself for her response, which came not in words but in a telling silence that spoke volumes. After a pause, filled with unspoken emotion, I ventured further, laying my heart bare. “You are too generous to trifle with me. If your feelings are still what they were last April, tell me so at once. My affections and wishes are unchanged; but one word from you will silence me on this subject for ever.”
Elizabeth, clearly overwhelmed by the gravity of the moment, was not immediate in her reply. Yet, when she spoke, her words conveyed a shift in her sentiments that I had scarcely dared to hope for. “My feelings,” she admitted, “are so different now from what they were then, as to be unrecognizable. You must believe me when I say that I am grateful for your affections, and that I return them with a sincerity and warmth that matches your own.”
The joy that suffused me upon hearing her avowal was unlike any I had ever known. Our subsequent conversation, as we continued our walk, was a tapestry of earnest declarations and heartfelt admissions. We spoke of our mistakes, our growth, and the light which Lady Catherine’s interference had inadvertently cast upon our understanding of each other.
This novel's true home is a different platform. Support the author by finding it there.
As we neared Longbourn once again, our future lay before us—a future filled with the promise of shared happiness and mutual respect. The task that awaited me was clear: to seek the approval of Mr. Bennet and to begin the journey of a lifetime with the incomparable Elizabeth Bennet by my side.
Today, I approached a task that, in my younger years, I had never imagined would bring such a tumult of emotions—a request for a gentleman’s most treasured blessing, the hand of his daughter in marriage. After the revelations shared between Elizabeth and myself, it was imperative that I seek the consent of her father, Mr. Bennet, a man I have come to regard with a mixture of respect and curiosity.
I requested a private audience with him, which he granted with an expression that bore the traces of intrigue. We retreated to his library, a sanctum of quiet dignity, and I found myself momentarily studying the titles that lined the shelves before turning my attention to the matter at hand.
“Mr. Bennet,” I began, my voice steady despite the rapid beating of my heart, “I come before you today to express a sentiment which, until very recently, I feared might remain unspoken.”
Mr. Bennet leaned back in his chair, his eyes sharp and assessing. “Indeed, Mr. Darcy? And what sentiment might that be?”
“It is one of affection—affection for your second daughter, Miss Elizabeth Bennet.” I paused, gathering my thoughts. “I have had the privilege of knowing Miss Elizabeth for some time now, and the esteem I hold for her has grown into a fervent and committed love. I am here to humbly request your permission to ask for her hand in marriage.”
Mr. Bennet regarded me with a mixture of surprise and contemplation. After a moment, he responded with a measured tone. “You have my attention, sir, and I must say, this is quite unexpected. My Lizzy is a girl of fine mind and lively spirit. Tell me, Mr. Darcy, are you quite certain of her feelings towards you?”
“Indeed, I am, sir,” I replied with confidence. “Miss Elizabeth has honored me with the assurance of her affections, which, I can say with all sincerity, are reciprocated in full measure by my own.”
Mr. Bennet nodded, a slight smile touching his lips. “Well, Mr. Darcy, I will not deny that your proposal comes as a surprise, given the... rocky commencement of your acquaintance. However, I have observed a change in both of you, and it would be remiss of me not to acknowledge it.”
He paused, a thoughtful expression crossing his face. “Furthermore, I must express my family’s gratitude for the role you played in the recent matter of my youngest daughter, Lydia. Your discretion and generosity in that unfortunate affair have not gone unnoticed, and for that, you have my sincerest thanks.”
I inclined my head, accepting his gratitude with a sense of duty fulfilled. “Thank you, Mr. Bennet. It was my honor to assist in the matter. The well-being of your daughter was of utmost concern to me, as is the happiness of all your family.”
Mr. Bennet’s gaze was steady. “And what of your own family, Mr. Darcy? How do they regard this match?”
“My sister, Georgiana, holds Miss Elizabeth in high esteem, and I have no doubt she will be overjoyed by our union. As for my other relations, I am confident they will recognize the wisdom of my choice and the virtue of the lady who has captured my heart.”
After a moment of silence, in which the gravity of our discussion seemed to weigh upon the room, Mr. Bennet extended his hand. “Very well, Mr. Darcy. You have my consent to ask Elizabeth to be your wife. I trust you will both seek to make each other deservedly happy.”
Grasping his hand firmly, I felt a profound sense of relief and gratitude. “Thank you, sir. I assure you, I shall endeavor to do so with every fiber of my being.”
As I left the library, my steps were light, and my future, once shrouded in doubt, now seemed bright with the promise of shared joy. The path ahead would undoubtedly present its challenges, but with Elizabeth by my side, I felt equipped to face whatever may come.
Fitzwilliam Darcy