Mr and Mrs Darcy 02 Suspense & Sensibility (37 page)

"That,
Mr. Dashwood, is up to her. And to you."

He
left Harry in the library and went to the balcony. Miss Bennet was in the hall
below, with Elizabeth and Georgiana.
Kitty laughed at something her sister
said, and Darcy reflected that, during the period of Mr. Dashwood's recovery,
she too, had begun to heal from the injuries Sir Francis had inflicted. He
captured her attention.

"Miss
Bennet, there is someone in the library who wants very much to speak with
you."

Curiosity
crossed her countenance but did not erase her smile. She came up the stairs.
"Who is it?"

He
look her arm and led her into the library, closing the door behind them.
"Receive him only if you wish."

Mr
Dashwood gazed out the window, lost in thought, his back to the door. In his
altered form, which Kitty had not seen in weeks and which had undergone still
more changes since, it took her a moment to recognize him.
When she did. she gasped."Mr.
Dashwood."

He
turned round. Darcy had never seen a face exhibit such a range of emotions in
so short a span. Joy. Regret. Hope. Grief. Longing. Sorrow. Tenderness.

"Miss
Bennet."

He
went toward her. She took an involuntary step back and leaned closer to Darcy.
He stopped.

"You
are afraid of me.' The fact clearly wounded him. but he bore it with
acceptance.

"No."
She withdrew her arm from Darcy's supportive grasp and walked to Mr. Dashwood.
Raising her chin, she looked him in the eye. 'No, Harry." she said
quietly. "I am not afraid of you."

"I
cannot blame you if you are, after all that has transpired."
Darcy retreated toward the door to
grant them some measure of privacy, but he would not leave until assured that
Kitty was easy in Mr. Dashwood's company.

She
studied Harry a long time. "My sister says you have been ill."

"I
was not myself when we last saw each other, and had not been for weeks."

"And
now? Are you once more the gentleman I knew at Norland?"

"No,"
he said. "I fear that, like Norland itself, that man hasa gone forever.
But I hope I am a better one."

Her
gaze danced about the room, as if she were afraid to let it rest on him too
long. His, however, never left her. He drank in the vision of her. cherishing
each expression, each gesture, even those unfavorable to his suit. He had not
seen her in over two months, and, depending on the outcome of this meeting, might
never see her again.

"Mr.
Dashwood, why have you called today? Surely you realize how difficult this interview
is for me. The horrible thing you said at our last meeting--the wicked things
you did--. Her voice broke.

"Miss
Bennet, I--"

"We
were engaged to be married, and you took a mistress!
She shut her eyes against the sight
of him and turned her head. A deep, shaky breath followed. When she opened her
eyes once more, she looked away from him, at the floor.

The
anguish that crossed his countenance at the sight of her distress at least
equaled hers. "Miss Bennet--"

"A
mistress," she repeated quietly. "Have you any idea how much that
hurt me?"

He
swallowed hard. "Yes"

His
own hands trembling, he reached for hers. She let him take them, but she would
not meet his eyes. He dropped to his knees so that he could look up into her
face.

"Miss
Bennet, I have no right to beg your forgiveness, to hope that somewhere in the
heart that suffered so on my account is a corner that does not utterly despise
me. But Miss Bennet, if there is--if any chance exists that you might one day look
upon me without revulsion--that I may someday regain your respect, if not your
love--" He drew in an unsteady breath of his own
"Oh, God. Kitty--if I could but
take your pain upon myself, how willingly, how gratefully, how humbly I would
bear it!"

She
withdrew one hand from his grasp, to wipe tears from her eyes.

"Oh,
Harry, I want to believe you. . .."

Neither
of them heard Darcy open the door and close it behind him. Miss Bennet and Mr.
Dashwood still had a great deal to talk through, and they did not need an
audience. Darcy believed, however, that they eventually would find their way
back to each other.

Elizabeth
waited just outside. "You arc most mysterious this afternoon" She
nodded toward the door 'Who is in there?"
The future vicar of Kymplon."

"You
filled the living? That must be a relief--I know how the vacancy has plagued
you. Whom did you find?"

"A
promising gentleman who plans to take orders soon"
"He must be a younger person,
then. I am glad--there is less likelihood of your having to fill the benefice
again right away.
"How old a man is he?"

Darcy
s brow furrowed. "At present, I am not altogether certain"

"Well,
never mind. I am just pleased we can leave London with that objective
satisfied." She headed back to the staircase and started to descend
On the second step, however, she stopped
and turned around. "But Darcy. whatever does the new vicar want with
Kilty?"

"I
believe he wants to marry her."

She
regarded him in puzzlement. Then sudden understanding lit her expression.
"Mr. Dashwood is in there?" she whispered excitedly.

"He
is."

"And
you've left them alone together? Shame on you, Darcy--'tis most improper."
It was an empty admonishment-- her eyes danced with delight as she returned to
his side. "What is he saying to her?"

"I
am not privy to that information."

"All
right--as a fellow gentleman, what do you think he is saying?"

He
looked into her face and took her hand. "I think he says that if she will
grant him the opportunity, he will spend the remainder of his life proving
himself worthy of her." He raised her hand to his lips and kissed it.
"I think he says that if she can content herself to live on a clergyman's
income, he will treat her like a duchess." He kissed the inside of her
wrist. "I think
he says that--" He whispered the last in her ear.

"Mmm.
I had no idea Mr. Dashwood was such a romantic fellow." She allowed him to
lead her away from the library door. "And what do you have to say. Mr.
Darcy?"

"That
I pray your sister consents, for I do not think I could endure another London
season such as this."

Epilogue

"Think only on the past as it's remembrance gives
you pleasure."

-
Elizabeth
to Darcy,

Pride and Prejudice,
Chapter 58

Elizabeth
gazed out the window, momentarily distracted from her needlework by the
beckoning landscape of Derbyshire in late summer. The flower gardens called,
the majestic trees beckoned, and the warm afternoon sun tempted her to abandon
her needle for her best pair of walking shoes.

But
she wanted to finish the infant gown today, and so would postpone her walk until
later. On the desk, a note to Jane also wanted completion.
Elizabeth thought of her sister often
these days, wondering how her sister fared as the time of her confinement
neared.

Darcy
entered, a letter in his hand. I have just received word that the old vicar of
Kympton passed away yesterday. The living is now Mr. Dashwood's as soon as he
is eligible for ordination."

"That
is sad news for the vicar's family, but Kitty will be glad to hear it. She and
Mr. Dashwood can now fix upon a wedding date."

"Do
you think they will wed as soon as he takes orders?"

"I
imagine so After all, Mr. Dashwood is not getting any younger."

She
added several stitches to the bedgown. The mundane task, undertaken in the
comfort and security of Pemberley made their encounter with the Mirror of
Narcissus seem as though it occurred long ago. However, one had only to recall Mr.
Dashwood's matured countenance to remember that awful
day vividly. She raised her eyes to her husband, grateful for the thousandth
time that she had not lost him to the mirror's curse.

"You
have a distant expression." he observed.

"I
was thinking aboul the Mirror of Narcissus," she said. "I
have often wondered what image held you
spellbound. Where Professor Randolph bade you imagine yourself as you wanted others
to see you, did you create a younger representation of yourself, as had so many
victims before you?"

"No,
older."

"Older?"

"Not
advanced in age, so much as in understanding," he explained. "I
pictured myself the kind of man my father was. A teacher with wisdom to
impart."

"To
someone like Harry?"

"To
my own son. Or daughter."

She
pushed the needle through the muslin and brought it up again. Darcy sat down
beside her, observing "That is a handsome dress--I think the finest of all
you have made for Jane. Your sister will treasure it, I am certain."

"This
one is not for Jane."

"It
is not?"

She
met his gaze and smiled softly. "No, it is not."

He
did not speak, only gently look the dress from her hand, and set it aside so he
could pull her close. As he gathered her into his arms, she looked forward to
seeing him as he had seen himself in the glass--a father to the child who had
been the cause of the mirror's destruction.

A
soul for a soul. That had been the mirror's price, and all it could contain.
But in that terrible moment when it had tried to claim hers, unknown yet even
to herself, her body had held two.

The End