FicWad

By Sunday afternoon the weather had much calmed, however Lizzie's thoughts had not. The perplexing feelings she had felt before the discovery of her love for Mr. Darcy where all the more misconstrued now. She remained baffled at what had taken place by the summer house that morning. How fascinating that things had transitioned so! From near disdain of the man, to the manifest of her true feelings; and his! His willingness to sacrifice the issues at hand that had been a prohibition in the marriage of her sister and Mr. Bingley! That was still questionable and she needed to discover the reasons behind it, but she would find out. Mr. Darcy had promised her a full explanation.

Elizabeth had anxiously been pacing the house, that of which belonged to her cousin, Mr. Collins and Charlotte. The small but cozy rectory abutted Lady Catherine's estate. She had been staying with them for three weeks now and rather enjoyed the visit. Even though she hated to leave her poor sister behind, she had needed the change of scenery along with the company. Her rowdy younger sisters (Lydia and Kitty especially) and her fretful mother had caused her head to ache on more than one occasion. The only persons in the house whom she could reconcile with were Jane and her father. Jane was her favorite sister; so calm and non-condemning, more so than necessary. She was known for being perhaps too gentle on her judgement of peoples' characters. She often acted as an encouragement of Elizabeth's sagacity. She was an abatement to her sister's severity at times, and for this, Lizzie was grateful. There was none who could console her like Jane. Lizzie's father was quiet, occasionally irritable, (mainly resulting from his troublesome wife and youngest kin) but he was unpretentious. Out of all his daughters, Lizzie was his favorite. She missed him, but was sorry to conceive the reactions of partition from her mother were not quite equal...

She was obliged to be visiting Charlotte, whom she had been close friends with ever since childhood. Upon first hearing of Mr. Collins's ridiculous proposal to her, and Charlotte's even more ludicrous acceptance, Lizzie had been hypercritical and biased. However, time had caused Lizzie's discernment of her friend's comfort and happiness, and an affectionate letter of amends to Charlotte, which was promptly accepted, solved the brief strain in their friendship. Hence, at present, she stayed on with her cheerily in the pleasant little house.

It grew later, and Lizzie who had withdrawn to her room to prepare for the dinner at Rosings, (for she and the Collins's were to be there for five 'o'clock and it now was half past four) there was a sudden knock upon her door. Bidding the knocker entrance, she discovered it was Charlotte herself, come to tell her they would be taking leave shortly, as Lady De Bourgh honored punctuality and it was best to be early.

The walk to Rosings was only but ten minutes. They were received at the grand doors, and lead directly into the equally splendid drawing room, whom Lady Catherine herself, her daughter Anne, Mr. Darcy, and Colonel Fitzwilliam diversely occupied. Conclusively, upon the bows of her visitors, the great lady amply approved of the early arrival and said she was gratified to receive them as added company. Charlotte and Lizzie chose seats on a sofa, while Mr. Collins took his place standing near the other men. Some small talk commenced after a long awkward silence. Lady Catherine inquired something of the Collins's home, and of course Mr. Collins took it upon himself to run on with a redundant explanation along with the most minute detail. Lady Catherine had an air of negligence, although it was she herself who had asked. It was rather something to smother the lull that had shortly before, permeated the room. Lizzie could not help but to allow her eye to rest upon the man she had kissed that morning. She was anxious to commence their significant conversation, and by the look that befit his face, he appeared similarly. Both knew very well it would have to wait until after dinner. Perhaps an evening walk in the grounds.

To Lizzie's relief, the party did not long remain in the drawing room. Dinner time was approaching and Lady Catherine then insisted on migrating to the dining room. Everyone seemed to rise stiffly, hardly looking forward to the foretelling dullness of the meal, and especially the unpleasant intonations of her ladyship's eating habits, regardless of her rank. Elizabeth couldn't help laughing softly to herself as they all filed out of the drawing room. It often seemed difficult to keep a straight face around Lady Catherine. For so grand a lady, her attitude was much the opposite. If one were to think of where Mr. Darcy had inherited his seeming crossness, it would be easy to accuse her Ladyship.

Dinner passed painfully slow, and Elizabeth did not speak much except to make small talk with Charlotte. Mr. Collins had the Colonel in a rather ineffectual conversation per usual, and Lady Catherine was attempting to draw out Anne, who sat looking pale and in a poorly state. Her mother's goading was unsuccessful, and Lady Catherine then focused her remarks on Mr. Darcy.

"How is your sister?" required she.

"She is quite well," he answered, his usual grim countenance unchanging.

"I do wish she'd come to Rosing's. I very much enjoy listening to her performances on the piano forte. I've never seen a young lady play as well as Miss Georgiana."

"Indeed, she plays very well. I encourage her to practice whenever she has the opportunity."

"You must bring the young lady here. I insist on her entertainment."

"I will see what can be arranged. My sister has been busy with her education."

"Very well. No doubt her studies come before her musical accomplishments."

"For now, I advise you use Miss Bennett's playing as proxy." In saying this, he suddenly looked at Elizabeth and a smile actually befell his handsome face. She was surprised to hear such admonition from him. She blushed in reticence.

"Oh no, I am sure I could never match your sister's talent. I would not want to torment your Ladyship with any more of my poor playing."

Lady Catherine acted as if she did not hear any of this conversation, and continued onto another subject. Lizzie was not wounded by the evident disapproval. In the time she had stayed with Charlotte and all the visits to Rosing's, she had grown quite accustomed to Lady Catherine's moods and behavior. Lizzie proceeded in eating her dinner, relieved that she was not required to play for her Ladyship. It only meant a speedier encounter with Mr. Darcy.

At last, dinner concluded. The party was to return to the drawing room. However, Elizabeth dauntlessly said she would take a turn around the grounds. Colonel Fitzwilliam said he would join her, but Lady Catherine requested he come back to the drawing room as she required his company for some unknown reason. Here, Mr. Darcy said he would take the Colonel's place. Things could not have worked in their favor any greater. Nothing was said about Darcy's accompanying Miss Bennett, and the rest of the party dispersed to the drawing room as the two headed outside. The air was still warm, and the sky still light enough to see the beauty of the surrounding land. Lizzie inhaled the sweet aroma of the flowers permeating from the garden which was nearby. Mr. Darcy seemed to notice her delight in the scent, and lead her to the entrance. It was quiet, and perfect for the conference that would soon follow. They walked on slowly, into the garden.

"I must apologize for my aunt," said Mr. Darcy.

"Really, it is of no importance," Lizzie answered. "I am not so easily wounded."

Darcy seemed satisfied with her answer. He then stopped to face her.

"Dinner was torment. I do not know how I dealt the interval..." he smiled blithely.

Lizzie nodded in accord, expressing a little laugh and leveling her pretty eyes with his. He reached for her hand.

"And now, to tell you all."

Elizabeth breathed a sigh of anticipation as the pair continued to walk, her hand now clutched in his larger, warm one.

"My father loved Mr. Wickham as a son. He left him a generous living. But upon my father's death, Mr. Wickham announced he had no intention of taking orders. He demanded the value of the living, which he'd gambled away within weeks. He then wrote, demanding more money, which I refused. After which, he severed all acquaintance. He came back to see us last summer, and
declared passionate love for my sister, whom he tried to persuade to elope with him. She is to inherit £30,000. When it was made clear he would never receive a penny of it, he disappeared. I will not attempt to convey the depth of Georgiana's despair. She was 15 years old."

"How cruel!" Elizabeth declared at the finish of this justification. She now did not know what to think of Mr. Wickham, for he had seemed so genuine, so palpable in his discourse with her before in all of the times they had met. And he had been the one to degrade Mr. Darcy! She felt utterly embarrassed, and was almost glad for the decrease of daylight, for her face grew hot and color burned her cheeks."

"Mr. Darcy, I am truly sorry for my indecency! I had no idea..." she paused in her tracks.

"Miss Elizabeth, please. Do not worry yourself. You were unconscious of the veracity of the situation, and no doubt Mr. Wickham has attempted to injure me in return. You are innocent in your assumptions."

"Oh, but still I am ashamed!"

Mr. Darcy gently pulled her to him, tucking a stray piece of her hair behind her ear, and running the back of his hand lightly down her soft cheek. Chills crept over her skin, and she was immediately en captured by his sudden caress.

"Do not be perplexed." He lifted her slender chin with his forefinger. "I love you." His lips gently and fervently brushed her own. Shivers proceeded down her spine and throughout the rest of her body. The strange sensation she had experienced earlier returned and Lizzie felt herself melting. She also felt hot tears on her cheek. Darcy, suddenly feeling the wetness on his own face immediately pulled back, alarmed.

"Lizzie..."

"Do not trouble yourself," she answered, "They are tears of joy...I never thought one could be so happy!"

A broad smile formed on Mr. Darcy's handsome face. "Neither did I," he agreed.

By this time, darkness had come. However, the pair were not blinded by it's shadow. The moon rose high, it's misty aura of rings seemingly enchanting. A truly romantic night it was. Not just because there were these two beings, very much in love, standing next to one another . Not because Mr. Darcy chanced to look upon a charming and flourishing hydrangea and plucked it from it's source to give to Miss Bennett. There was something in the air, the very atmosphere whom even a stranger, walking by chance in that very garden would not fail to sense. Whether it was the intoxicating aroma of the flowers, the quiet sound of the wind rustling the shrubs, trees, ivories and tall grasses, the appearance of the still and welcoming garden, blanketed in soft and docile moonlight. It is unknown. Perhaps it was the warm and soothing summer air met by one with pleasant refreshment. These four senses of humankind all must contribute.

Mr. Darcy looked upon Lizzie as she stared up at the sky, the white light from the moon spilling over her beautiful features; the long, dark, sweeping lashes, the small and dainty nose, the finely arched brow, the full and relaxed lips...he wanted to taste them yet again. Slowly, he reached for her. She turned to face him.

"I consent to be your wife," she said, surprising him and recalling him to the purpose of this meeting. She reached her small hand up to his handsome face to rest it on the chiseled jawline. He brought his own warm hand up to cover hers, closing his eyes and savoring the feeling of her touch. It was utter torment to be so near her like this, so close in contact. It was impossible not to feel a blaze of desire, to want to show her how ardently he felt for her, to contain the pressure he felt in his groin, the hardness straining against his breeches.