Page 30 of Time Stands Still

Anne nodded, a faint colour rising in her cheeks. “It was time,” she stated, her voice firm. “When my mother declared that I had thrown away my birthright, I found the courage to tell her that I intended to claim it. Rosings is mine by the terms of my father’s will, Miss Bennet. It has always been. My mother acts as its mistress only because my own quiet nature and ill health have made it easier for me to give way to her stronger will. No more. Richard and I have spoken at length. I am travelling to London to stay with the Matlocks, and with their assistance and legal counsel, I intend to take my rightful place as mistress of Rosings. My mother… she will not be allowed to ruin it with her temper, nor to rule my destiny any longer.”

“That is wonderful news, Miss de Bourgh,” Elizabeth said, her eyes wide with fresh admiration for the quiet courage of the woman beside her. “Though the situation yesterday must have been quite dreadful.”

“My aunt’s fury was formidable,” Darcy admitted, taking Elizabeth’s hand in his, his thumb stroking her knuckles in a soothing gesture. “But she found herself outnumbered. Anne, Richard, and I stood united. She is aware that her wishes regarding our union were never shared, and that Anne, with the full support of Lord Matlock, intends to claim her rightful position. All will be well.”

The sun was still high in the sky, casting long shadows down the bustling streets of London when their carriage finally drew to a halt on Gracechurch Street. Their arrival in the early afternoon was met with a flurry of astonishment. The maid who opened the door stared, her eyes wide, and a moment later her aunt and uncle appeared, their expressions a mirror of the surprise they had shown on her last two, equally unexpected, arrivals.

“Lizzy!” Jane cried, her lovely face breaking into a smile of pure delight. She then looked with questioning surprise at the two gentlemen and Lady who accompanied her. “We had not expected you from Kent for another week.”

Introductions were made, and in the comfortable familiarity of her aunt’s parlour, Darcy announced the reason for their abrupt arrival.

“Mrs. Gardiner, Mr. Gardiner,” he said, his gaze finding Elizabeth’s and holding it. “I have come to London to inform you that I have asked for your niece’s hand in marriage, and that she has done me the very great honour of accepting me.”

A stunned silence fell upon the room. Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner looked from Darcy’s resolute face to their niece’s blushing but happy countenance, their minds clearly struggling to comprehend such a rapid and unexpected turn of events. Jane, for her part, simply beamed, her happiness for her sister overriding all surprise.

It was Mr. Gardiner who recovered himself first. “Mr. Darcy,” he said, his voice grave, “may I trouble you for a private word in my study?”

Elizabeth was not surprised. She knew her sensible uncle would require a full accounting of such a sudden engagement. As the two men retreated, her anxiety fluttered. She watched the closed door, her heart pounding, praying that her uncle would see the truth of their affection.

Her aunt, ever the gracious hostess despite her clear bewilderment, turned her attention to her other unexpected guests. “Miss de Bourgh,” she said with a kind smile, “I do hope your journey was not too taxing?”

Anne, seated quietly, offered a small, shy smile in return. “Not at all, madam. My cousins were most accommodating.”

“And you, Colonel?” Jane asked, turning to Colonel Fitzwilliam. “Is this your first visit to London this season?”

“It is indeed, Miss Bennet,” he replied with an easy charm. “An unexpected trip, I confess, but one that has proven most… enlightening.”

The light conversation was a strange counterpoint to the monumental changes taking place. Elizabeth participated as required, but her entire being was focused on the closed study door. After what felt an age, but could only have been a quarter of an hour, the door opened and the two gentlemen returned. Mr. Gardiner’s expression was grave, but Elizabeth could detect no sign of displeasure.

Darcy’s eyes immediately found hers across the room, and he gave her a subtle, almost imperceptible nod. A wave of relief so pure and profound washed over her that she felt her knees weaken.

He stepped forward, addressing the room. “Mrs. Gardiner, thank you for your hospitality. I must now escort my cousin, Miss de Bourgh, to the home of our aunt and uncle, Lord and Lady Matlock. Colonel Fitzwilliam and I shall then retire to our own lodgings.”

He then turned to her uncle, his tone formal but sincere. “Sir, with your permission, I should like to call upon Miss Elizabeth tomorrow.”

“Of course, Mr. Darcy,” Mr. Gardiner replied, his voice betraying a hint of solemnity but no animosity. “We shall expect you.”

With a final, lingering look at Elizabeth that spoke volumes, Darcy bowed to the ladies and departed, his two cousins in tow, leaving behind a whirlwind of questions and the breathtaking promise of a new day.

Chapter Twenty-Two

“My dear Lizzy! Engaged! To Mr. Darcy!” Mrs. Gardiner exclaimed, her hands fluttering in astonishment once the gentlemen and Miss de Bourgh had departed, leaving a stunned silence in their wake. “I confess, from your letters, I had thought you held no great opinion of the man. Indeed, I was quite prepared to dislike him myself upon meeting him!”

“My opinion, Aunt, has been… subject to a most profound revision,” Elizabeth said, a happy blush warming her cheeks.

“A profound revision indeed!” her aunt returned, shaking her head in wonder. “To have secured the affections of Mr. Darcy of Pemberley! Oh, Lizzy, I can only imagine your mother’s raptures.”

“I have no doubt she will be quite insensible with joy for a fortnight,” Elizabeth replied with a laugh, the image of her mother’s predictable hysterics a comforting anchor to reality.

Before her aunt could inquire further, Mr. Gardiner, who had been standing by the fireplace with a pensive expression, cleared his throat. “Lizzy, my dear,” he said, his voice grave but kind. “Might I have a private word with you in my study?”

Elizabeth’s smile faltered slightly, but she nodded and followed him from the room. She knew her sensible uncle, a man who had always been a second father to her, would not be satisfied without a full accounting.

Once the study door was closed, he gestured for her to sit. “Mr. Darcy has been remarkably candid with me, Elizabeth,” he began, his kind eyes searching hers. “He has told me of how he was surprised to meet you again in Kent, whilst visiting his aunt, and of his growing regard for you during your stay. He informed me that he had, in fact, been contemplating a proposal, when he gained the regrettable impression that his affections were not returned. He then endeavoured, during the remainder of his visit, to improve your opinion of him, and he assures me that he succeeded.”

He paused, letting the weight of his words settle. “He did not spare himself in the telling. He confessed his own arrogance, his misguided assumptions, with a frankness I found quite disarming. He then spoke of his continued admiration for you, and of his hope that your opinion of him had softened. But, Lizzy, this is such a sudden reversal. From your own account, you disliked the man exceedingly, and to have formed such a strong attachment in so short a time, I confess, gives me pause. Are you certain of this? Are you certain of your own heart? His fortune is a thing of consequence, I do not deny it, but it should not be the principal inducement for you to accept him.”

Elizabeth considered his words, her heart aching with the impossibility of her situation. How could she explain? How could she tell this man she loved and respected above almost any other, of the strange repetition of the day, of the extraordinary circumstances that had granted her a depth of acquaintance with Mr. Darcy that defied all sense and logic? The truth was impossible, fantastical. It would be met with disbelief, perhaps even concern for her sanity. No, she could not tell them. It was a secret she and Darcy alone must carry. Not even Jane. As much as it pained her to keep such a secret from her dearest sister, her closest confidante, she knew she must. This secret would remain between herself and Darcy, a foundation known only to them.