Page 60 of The Sole Love

Again they both laughed.

“I am outraged!” Elizabeth said, but Darcy did not let her continue. Instead, he turned to his guests.

“Please, let us go to the first-floor terrace.”

It had been a magical night, but nobody could have predicted its end.

Elizabeth saw with wonder that, below them in the park, all the servants were gathered. They were looking not at them but at the sky when a sudden explosion thundered in the distance. The night then erupted in fireworks, glowing flowers of colour that bloomed in the air and fell back to earth in showers of sparkling light.

Everybody exclaimed in excitement. The spectacle was magnificent, and it lasted long enough for Darcy to approach Elizabeth from behind and whisper in her ear, “Elizabeth Bennet, will you be my wife?”

In the general tumult, he could not hear her answer, but he felt the shiver of her body in response. As the final explosion faded in the night sky, Elizabeth turned to face him. They had come a long way from the parlour at Hunsford Parsonage to the glory of that night.

“Yes, I will, Fitzwilliam Darcy. I will be your wife.”

As silence reigned once more at Pemberley, everyone retired from the terrace to a small parlour, barely large enough to contain them all. They admired the portrait dominating one wall, a seated lady with a grown boy leaning against her chair and a small child in her lap. They looked at Lady Anne with reverence, but also great affection. It was unmistakably her; she could easily be recognised in the features of Mr and Miss Darcy, which reflected hers in different ways. Georgiana had her stature and delicate face, while her hair colour and green eyes unmistakably belonged to Darcy.

Elizabeth entered the room on Darcy’s arm, but once inside, he moved so that Georgiana was on his other side. They all looked at the portrait.

“I invited you here to announce another event,” Darcy said, obviously affected. “This is our mother’s parlour, the place we always come to when we wish to be near her.”

He paused as tears filled his eyes. It was rare to see such emotion on a gentleman’s face, but he was not the only one affected. Before Lady Anne’s portrait, they all felt the grief of her absence.

“Mama was a merry person,” Georgiana said, and Darcy nodded.

“Tonight, I asked Elizabeth to be my wife, and she accepted me,” he said to the family and friends around them, but he looked at the portrait as though he were telling his mother.

Just before the congratulations began, he imagined Lady Anne moving her head slightly, a beautiful smile on her face, and giving him her blessing.

∞∞∞

Elizabeth and Darcy remained in the parlour long after the guests had retired to their rooms.

They were sitting hand in hand on the couch when Mr Stevenson entered with a box in his hands. The butler’s face was illuminated by such a warm smile that Elizabeth smiled back. He had been in the Darcys’ service since he was sixteen and had deep affection for his master. In the first years after old Mr Darcy’s death, he had provided some of the determination young Fitzwilliam needed to take hold of his life and honour his father’s legacy. He occupied a privileged position in both residences, as he always accompanied his master.

“Please allow me to congratulate you, madam!” he said after placing the box on a table near Darcy.

“Thank you, Mr Stevenson,” Elizabeth said as she stood and offered her hand to the butler.

At first, the servant was surprised and looked at his master, but then he took her hand and bowed deeply. Later that evening, he would tell Mrs Reynolds, “Our future mistress is like no other lady I have met!”

The admiration in his voice told the housekeeper all she needed to know. Mr Stevenson possessed a rare ability to discern human nature.

Darcy watched the scene with a smile. The former girl with the muddy petticoat was making her own rules in his house. He suspected she was anxious about her new role, but his Elizabeth’s courage would rise to any occasion, and she would enter their marriage like a queen.

He took the box from the table and opened it. Inside was a beautiful necklace set with precious blue gems, the colour of her eyes.

Elizabeth looked at him and then at the box, not knowing exactly what to do.

“It is the necklace my father gave my mother on the day of their betrothal. It is so strange that the gems are the colour of your eyes. In fact,” he said as he fastened the necklace around her neck, “I have carried it with me since Kent…”

She wanted to answer such insolence, but she felt his lips on her neck and his hands around her waist and forgot everything except the man beside her.

She was finally his future bride.

“I need a mirror,” she said, reluctantly moving out of his embrace.

“I see, so the necklace is already more important than my love!” he teased, but immediately acceded to her request.