Page 85 of The Fee Entail

Everyone looked at me, wondering what madness I was planning to perpetrate, so I got right to it.

“Elizabeth Bennet, Love and Light of my Life. Will you do me the great honour of becoming my wife?”

She just nodded, smiled, and cried; and we were all most satisfied.

I was unable to resist adding, “At your earliest convenience.”

She just laughed along with everyone else, and I shifted in my chair to help her to her feet and was surprised by an unexpected command.

“A moment, if you please, Nephew!”

We all turned our attention to Aunt Catherine, sitting there looking quite pleased with the afternoon, with Kitty and Mary standing next to her. All three looked as lovely as any three women I had ever seen in my life… well, aside from Jane, Charlotte, and Anne standing next to them.

“That was an excellent proposal, Fitzwilliam. Well worded. Succinct. Proper. Heartfelt. Truly, all a proposal should be.”

I smiled in gratitude.

“Elizabeth, your answer lacked verbosity, but made up for it with expressiveness, so I applaud the entire endeavour.”

Elizabeth nodded in appreciation, but then I caught her small grin and a look of mischievousness in both ladies and wondered what was coming next.

I braced myself for a storm, which is exactly what I got.

“Yes, a most excellent proposal, and I will allow that special circumstances required a slight bending of the proper forms since your intended was already on your lap.”

Now, everyone looked perplexed.

She looked around at the rest of the group. “I expect the other two to be done properly on their knees!”

I just laughed along with Elizabeth, who did not look as surprised by the declaration as you might have thought. Apparently, she knew my aunt better than I did, which was hardly surprising.

Richard was the first to take a knee, despite having to extract his arm from Charlotte’s, as she had already been clinging to him so tightly it would have been considered a compromise in ordinary circumstances, and despite the fact that he still could not quite bend one of them and nearly pitched into the dirt much like he reportedly had that first day.

He still beat Bingley to the ground and proved his mettle with his next words.

“Miss Lucas. I believe happiness in marriage is entirely a matter of choice. Were you to marry me tomorrow, you would know as much of my character as if you studied me a twelvemonth. Every day of our life together, we can choose to be happy, to be kind, to be loving, to be good and loving parents. Should you accept me, that child you carry shall be mine, regardless of any past circumstances, and loved and honoured exactly the same as the rest of our children for all the days of my life. I lay my heart at your feet, for you somehow captured it in the first five minutes of our acquaintance, and I have never repented the loss. Miss Charlotte Lucas, will you do me the great honour of becoming my wife? Will you choose to be happy with me?”

I would like to say I could describe the look of delight on Charlotte’s face in some detail, but to be truthful, both Elizabeth and I were crying so hard by the time he was done that all we could hear was Charlotte’s affirmative response.

“Richard Fitzwilliam, you are an honourable and loving man, and I can now see the kindness you have shown all around you and the love you have shown me. I will be your wife with all my heart and all my love, if you will kindly get off your knee and help me back to the carriage. My back is killing me!”

Did I ever tell you that Charlotte is my very favourite sister!

Wonder

Elizabeth

My wonder at the events of that special afternoon, when all the bad things in the world went up in smoke right in front of my eyes, while all the good things in the world were standing around watching, was so complete that I left the world of the rational entirely. In that magical time, the thinker my father had created through deep reading, discussion, and an education that probably rivalled Fitzwilliam’s was cast aside. My unbounded faith in my perspicacity and ability to sketch characters—which typically vacillated between conceited arrogance and abject, abysmal failure—was cast aside. My knowledge, training, skills, and intelligence were completely redundant and unnecessary. For around an hour, I was entirely driven by my heart, and my heart wanted Fitzwilliam Darcy more than I had ever wanted anything in my life.

I have no idea whether his almost joking request for all the dances of my life was intended to be an actual proposal, a statement of future intent, the start of a courtship, or something entirely different. I had no idea if he was ready to chain himself to me for the rest of his life, though I at least had enough sense to know that if he was trying to avoid the parson’s mousetrap, he was not putting much effort into it. Back in Hertfordshire, I could convince myself he stared at me to find fault, or he asked me to dance for his own amusement. No such illusions were allowed for a man who lifted me from the phaeton by the waist exactly as I would expect him to place a future daughter on her first pony, and a man who did not like me would not have held me against his chest exactly like I would hold that selfsame babe to my breast. No, the day was confusing enough, but I would have had to be very silly to not see that he loved all the Bennet sisters in general and me in particular.

When he said the first thing that could even vaguely be considered by any stretch of the imagination as a statement of honourable intentions, I decided that surprise and wonder were not my only emotions, nor even my primary ones. My strongest feeling at that moment was impatience, and I simply staked my territory with the implacability of a lion, and much to my satisfaction, but not to my surprise, my territory was happy to be staked.

Sitting on his lap was like coming home after a long journey involving rain, snow, brigands, and pirates to find your beloved awaiting you by a roaring fire while the wind blew and the rain fell outside your cosy cottage with your children arrayed at his feet listening to a favourite story while their loving father did all the voices perfectly. It was the most intense feeling of comfort I had ever experienced in my life, and I wanted more. I wanted it all. Most importantly, I wanted all of it at once.

Charles’ story was nearly my undoing, but the love of my life knew how to give comfort when it was required, and I could feel his tension melt out of him when I offered it in return. We were two pieces of a puzzle that just fitted together, with glue on the edges so once fitted together, we could never be broken apart again.

I recognised the mischievousness in Aunt’s eyes right after his entirely redundant but ever so wonderful proper proposal (as if the two of us ever did anything proper), and just grabbed the lapels of his waistcoat tighter, hoping I would get a better start with the housekeeper at Pemberley than I was likely to get with his valet that evening, and waited for the storm to begin.