Expecting His Proposal, page 6
Mr. Darcy, who never looks at any woman but to see a blemish, and whom I had theretofore supposed never looked at you in his life, has offered you his hand in marriage, and you, my dearest Lizzy, write to say you have accepted!
Elizabeth paused and reflected on her father’s words. His wit she often admired, especially when directed at others. When directed towards her in such a manner, she found it rather less agreeable. However, in her father’s defense, she rightly understood his sentiments. Never did she let on to anyone other than Jane that she harbored a favorable opinion of the man whom most of the people of Meryton believed was haughty and above his company, and never once did she consider that he and she might find themselves in such a position as this when he took his leave of Hertfordshire.
Recalling her attention to her father’s letter, she read on.
I would ask you if you were out of your senses to be accepting this man; however, I trust you to know what you are about. Pray your acceptance has nothing to do with his being so very rich and everything to do with your liking this man, and most importantly, your respecting him.
I know your disposition, Lizzy. I know that you could be neither happy nor respectable unless you truly esteemed your husband—unless you looked up to him as a superior. Your lively talents would place you in the greatest danger in an unequal marriage. You could scarcely escape discredit and misery. My child, let me not have the grief of seeing you unable to respect your partner in life.
With all that said, if it is indeed the case that you truly esteem this man, I give you my consent, and as he is the kind of man to whom one should never dare to refuse anything which he condescends to ask, I shall give him my consent as well.
There you have it, my dear. I have little else to say other than I hope he knows how fortunate he is to have you.
Her mind now relieved from such heavy weight, Elizabeth nearly lost track of the time she spent sitting there in quiet reflection. All at once, a sharp frisson of panic struck her. Mr. Darcy will think I abandoned him! Jumping to her feet, she folded the letter, tucked it into her pocket, and headed for the door. What if Mama’s exuberance has given him cause to return to the sanctuary of his Grosvenor Square town house? She really did wish to spend some more time with Darcy before he took his leave, even though he was to dine with them at the Gardiners’ home that evening. What if he has changed his mind?
She threw the door open. Her mouth gaped. “Mr. Darcy!”
“Your aunt told me I might find you here.”
“I’m afraid I lost track of time. Are you … taking your leave?”
His countenance clouded with worry. “Should I?”
“If you must,” said Elizabeth watching closely to how well he would react. His grave expression reminded her how much he did not like being teased. She quickly said, “Although, the prospect of your leaving just now is one that I would find somewhat disheartening.”
Taking her hand in his, he squeezed it gently. “What does your father have to say?”
Relieved by his smile, she stood on her toes and attempted to look over his shoulder. Surmising he was alone, she urged him inside the room and closed the door.
Chapter 8 ~ Hope for the Future
His expression eager, Darcy said, “Pray tell me at once what your father has to say. What was the purpose of his letter? Has he given his consent?”
Elizabeth said, “It would appear he has.”
He smiled in relief. “That is excellent news, indeed. May I say that I’m rather fond of your mother’s ideas as regards special licenses?”
“I do not doubt it, for it would mean that much less time you’ll be forced to endure my Hertfordshire family’s company.”
Darcy would have been lying if he denied the past quarter hour had been a formidable test of his endurance, what with the younger girls, Miss Kitty and Miss Lydia, repining about being in London when the militia was in Meryton. He was rather pleased when Miss Mary, who also made it clear she would much rather be in Meryton, openly opined that one of the benefits of being in London was that it afforded some distance between her younger sisters and their want of proper decorum often displayed with the officers of the local militia. Of course, the younger girls didn’t see it that way at all and thus ensued some rather exasperating bickering back and forth. Their complaints about missing all the fun to be had with the officers with no promise of an equal share of fun while they were in London were insufficient to diminish Mrs. Bennet’s enthusiasm for her second eldest daughter’s impending marriage.
She went so far as to proclaim there would be time enough for the younger girls to have their share of fun once she had seen to Elizabeth’s speedy marriage to Mr. Darcy, and perhaps if she were lucky, Jane’s subsequent marriage to Mr. Bingley. All this Darcy endured, thinking it was a small price to pay if it meant having Elizabeth as his wife, which was not to say he did not silently thank Mrs. Gardiner when she made her way to where he sat and told him where he might find Elizabeth. I am forever in Mrs. Gardiner’s debt.
Darcy said, “Actually, that is not the reason. Just as I’m eager for us to be man and wife, I’m equally eager for us to begin our new life together as soon as can be. There will be plenty of time for us really to get to know each other after we are married and what better place for that than Pemberley.
“I’m eager to show you Pemberley—not because I mean to impress you, but because I know you will love it there.” He took her hand in his. “And just in case I didn’t make myself clear when we spoke on this topic earlier, I look forward to welcoming all your family to our home.”
Darcy laced his fingers through hers. “Think of it as an adventure, if you will—a wonderful, magical adventure where we discover all there is to know about each other,” he said, drawing her nearer, “as one.”
Amid the compelling combination of her father’s consent, her mother’s resolve, and Darcy’s reassuring declaration, Elizabeth diverted her eyes in heartfelt reflection. Looking over to where she had been sitting on the sofa, she noticed a folded scrap of paper. As she hadn’t noticed it before, she wondered if it might have fallen loose when she tore open her father’s letter. She drifted over and picked it up.
Darcy joined her. “What is this?”
She tore her eyes away from the note and glanced up uncertainly at Darcy. “It looks to be a note from my father. I must have overlooked it earlier.”
“Shall I give you a moment of privacy?”
“No, I do not suppose that’s necessary. I have no secrets from you.” Throwing her eyes back to the piece of paper, she said, “Shall we read it together?”
Darcy nodded, and Elizabeth unfolded it and started reading aloud.
“My dearest Lizzy, I have but one thing to add to my letter and this is it. Although I have given you my consent to marry your Mr. Darcy, my decree is not without conditions. I have it on good authority that nothing would please your mother more than to see you married by special license. Twenty odd years of marriage have taught me how persuasive your dear mother can be, and thus I am obliged to tell you that so long as I have the honor of walking you down the aisle, I shall have no reason at all to repine, or simply stated, get yourself back to Longbourn as soon as you can.”
Elizabeth burst out in laughter and Darcy did the same. After a moment, Darcy took both her hands in his, raised them to his lips, and brushed a light kiss atop her knuckles. Leaning in, Darcy rested his forehead atop hers. “Is this really happening?”
She nodded. “Yes.”
Placing his hands about her long slender neckline, he lifted her chin with his thumbs. Leaning closer still, their eyes met. Closing his, he brushed a gentle kiss upon her lips. An exquisite moment later, he said, “Well, my dearest, loveliest Elizabeth, what on earth are we waiting for? It seems our purposes are clear. First, let me procure a special license.” His lips met hers once again, and he kissed her ever so tenderly and more intimately than ever before. “Then, let me get you back to Longbourn.”
Her sentiments in perfect harmony with his, Elizabeth released a warm and happy sigh. I’m about to embark upon an adventure with one of the best men I know. And what an adventure it would be—one abounding with the promise of love and joy and wondrous hope for the future.
♥♥♥

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If you enjoyed Expecting His Proposal, you’ll also enjoy As Good as a Lord.
One satisfied reader said, “Imagine Mrs. Bennet finding out about Elizabeth refusing Darcy's proposal... Imagine to what lengths she might go in an attempt to bring the estranged parties together again...”
Imagine, indeed. Enjoy Chapter 1!

Chapter 1 ~ Secrets
Fitzwilliam Darcy rubbed both hands over his face. Will I learn to love again? Is there another woman for me, one who is better suited than Miss Elizabeth Bennet is? Can I open my heart to her and if not my entire heart then enough to marry her and carry her off to Pemberley to share with me the rest of my days?
A proud man accustomed to having his way, Darcy sat opposite his cousin, Colonel Richard Fitzwilliam, as the stately carriage pulled away from the changing station in Bromley. After putting off his plans to return to London several times, the events of the prior day had rendered further delay pointless.
How could I have been so mistaken about her feelings for me? I went to her and offered my hand in marriage with every expectation of a favorable reply, only to have my offer spurned with undue malice and unmitigated contempt.
Learning the heart of her animosity towards him was rooted in falsehoods leveled against him by the likes of George Wickham—a childhood friend whom he now abhorred—and knowing she held that scandal in such high esteem was cause for him to realize he never really knew her at all. He brushed a hand across his face once again, wishing to rid himself of the unpleasant memory.
He likened his fate to having dodged a bullet, but that did not make it any less painful. The truth was, despite his objectionable, ill-worded, and poorly conceived proposal, he cared deeply for Elizabeth. He wanted to spend the rest of his life with her.
The colonel, who had been observing his cousin in silent wonderment, said, “Come now, old fellow. Surely you are not lamenting the unpleasant scene with our aunt this morning. Soon enough she will accustom herself to the truth and learn to accept it.”
“I should have told Lady Catherine years ago that I had no intention of honoring her favorite wish that Anne and I would marry.” Not that she would have listened. His aunt Lady Catherine de Bourgh had an uncanny knack for hearing only that which conformed to her own view of things. “However,” Darcy continued, “if I am to be honest I would have to say that my present attitude has nothing at all to do with our aunt’s wounded expectations.”
The colonel sat up straight, his interest piqued. “Pray would it have anything to do with the lovely Miss Elizabeth Bennet?”
His cousin knew him very well. They were, after all, the closest of friends. However, Darcy had gone out of his way not to give a hint of his preference for Miss Elizabeth to anyone—not until he had entirely made up his mind to offer his hand to her. Apparently, I hid my feelings a little too well as far as Miss Elizabeth is concerned and not well enough so far as my cousin is. Perhaps Richard knows nothing and is merely baiting me, as he is wont to do.
“Miss Elizabeth Bennet?” Darcy said, his eyes questioning. “Why would you suggest my mood has anything to do with her?”
“Don’t think I did not notice your hasty departure from Rosings last night when you realized she would not be joining our party. I could only assume you went to see her.” The colonel arched his brow. “Or am I mistaken?”
“I would rather not say where I went or what I did last evening.”
“As that is not a denial of my assertion, I shall then assume I am correct in thinking you went to see the lady.”
“What you do or do not think is none of my concern, just as where I went and what I did is none of yours.”
“You are rather testy, Cousin. Well, you shall keep your secrets.”
“Thank you for respecting my privacy.”
“You will not mind if I ask of your plans when we arrive in town, I pray? It is the height of the Season, after all, and with that comes a fresh wave of young debutantes in want of husbands. Are you prepared for the onslaught, or do you mean to eschew those gaieties at which you might find yourself on display?”
“On the contrary. I intend to throw myself into the London scene upon my return—to smile at every simpering debutante and dance with them to their hearts’ content.”
Surely one of the young women will attract my fancy now that I am resolved to fill the empty space in my life that can only be occupied by a wife.
A feeling of resignation mixed with regret washed over him. I begin to consider that the greatest part of me will always love Elizabeth. However, she does not love me, and thus I must start anew. It is time I choose a wife.
Thus resolved, Darcy closed his eyes as if wishing to block out the world, but his innermost concerns would not be repressed. I may not love her at first. I dare say it will be impossible as my heart belongs to another. However, if I choose prudently, as I indeed intend to, then surely love will follow.
Some weeks later, Hertfordshire
Each night that passed found Elizabeth more restless than the one before. Troubling thoughts of what had unfolded in Kent haunted her days and invaded her dreams at night. Making matters worse, she and her dearest sister, Jane, had been reunited for weeks. Still, she had not breathed a word to her about what actually happened in Kent. Would Jane even believe her? Elizabeth could hardly believe it herself.
Mr. Darcy offered his hand in marriage—to me!
Besides the obvious reason of no one believing her, Elizabeth had kept her silence on the matter for other, more compelling, reasons as well. For one, her mother, Mrs. Francis Bennet, would be livid if she were to learn that Elizabeth, the second eldest of five daughters whose marital prospects were wanting, had spurned yet another marriage proposal. Mrs. Bennet’s ensuing vexation would throw the entire household into utter turmoil for weeks, if not months.
Mrs. Bennet’s scathing protests when Elizabeth rejected her cousin, Mr. William Collins, last autumn would be nothing compared to how she would bear the news that her daughter had refused the hand of a gentleman with ten thousand pounds a year.
Elizabeth’s second reason really had to do with protecting her sister Jane from being hurt. If she were to tell Jane that one of the principal reasons she refused Mr. Darcy’s hand was because of the part he had played in separating her from Mr. Bingley, it would only give rise to hurt feelings, the likes of which Jane had spent the past weeks endeavoring to overcome.
She would never forget how heartbroken Jane was when Charles Bingley left Netherfield, a neighboring estate. Jane had gone to London shortly after that with the hope of seeing the young man, but his sisters and Mr. Darcy himself had thwarted her efforts.
“I have no wish to deny that I did everything in my power to separate my friend from your sister, or that I rejoice in my success.”
Such was Mr. Darcy’s adamant avowal when Elizabeth confronted him with the truth she had gleaned from an earlier conversation with Colonel Fitzwilliam, Mr. Darcy’s cousin. The colonel’s account alone had been enough to bolster Elizabeth’s dislike of the proud Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy. Nothing he had said since arriving at the parsonage that fateful evening served to sway her in that regard. His confession of admiring her most ardently gave her pause, yet his admission of liking her against his will put an end to that.
“Towards him I have been kinder than towards myself.”
Those nine words might undoubtedly have cemented her heart against him were it not for the letter he’d handed her that next day. Despite the impropriety in such a gesture, he had sought to address the two harshest accusations she had leveled against him in refusing his hand. The weightier of her accusations against him regarded his supposed misdeeds towards a Lieutenant George Wickham and the other appertained to his part in separating her sister Jane and his friend Charles Bingley. By the former, he painted a more telling portrait of the man whom she’d once believed to be everything that was good. In truth, Wickham was everything but good. He had persuaded her and anyone else who would listen that he was a victim of Mr. Darcy’s cold, cruel nature when it was Wickham himself who was no more than a lying, mean hearted opportunist and one who blamed others for his misfortunes.
By the other, Mr. Darcy had persuaded her that his intentions had been pure. He had acted in service to a friend whom he had no wish to witness surrender himself to a disadvantageous alliance. He said he had seen no evidence that Jane’s heart had been touched by his friend. How could Elizabeth fault him in that?
Jane rarely shows her true feelings to anyone. Anyone who does not indeed know her as I do must certainly share a similar opinion to Mr. Darcy’s.
Elizabeth was nearly one and twenty and Jane older than that. Then there were the three younger sisters: Mary, Kitty, and Lydia. Five daughters who were not eight years apart. Five daughters who were all out. Things could not go on that way, especially not for the two eldest—living a carefree existence in their father’s home. The estate was entailed to the male line of the family. A distant cousin, Mr. Collins, whose hand Elizabeth had spurned last autumn, stood to inherit everything. He might very well turn all of them out as soon as Mr. Bennet passed, and then where would they be?
Elizabeth was a sensible woman. She knew she must marry. It would be reckless of her to assume otherwise. Having rejected two gentlemen’s proposals in less than six months, she might well be obliged to accept the next offer of marriage.
