MR. DARCY'S VALENTINE by Anne-Marie Grace © 2017

Happy Valentine's Day!

This story is already published on Amazon, but I will be sharing the chapters here as well.

I will upload a new chapter every Friday. I hope you enjoy!

Love,

Anne-Marie Grace

CHAPTER 1 - Elizabeth

Even the shadows cast by the flickering candlelight could not hide the expression of pure happiness on Jane's face. Elizabeth smiled softly as she watched her sister recount her proposal from the good-humoured Mr. Bingley.

"Mamma will be impossible now, you know," Elizabeth said as she pulled the brush through Jane's long hair. "If she has the telling of it, all of Meryton will be under the impression that she is the sole reason for your current betrothment and future felicity."

Jane laughed gently. "Oh Lizzy, I care not! Mamma can tell whatever tale makes her happy. There is none in the world as happy as I on this night, and I wish the same for all!"

"You are good-hearted, my dear sister, to be concerned for everyone else on this day." Elizabeth laughed. She continued to brush, then braid, her sister's hair as Jane relayed every moment of Mr. Bingley's long-awaited proposal.

"Mamma does deserve credit; she cleverly orchestrated that Charles and I should be left alone in the sitting room," said Jane, colour rising to her face.

"Charles?" Elizabeth asked, a teasing note in her voice.

"Mr. Bingley," Jane quickly amended. "While you were nowhere to be found, and the rest were taken up with cards, we found ourselves very much alone," Jane rushed on. "It was terribly wonderful to be there with him, though I started to worry when he began pacing the room."

Elizabeth nodded, picturing in her mind the scene Jane described. Being familiar with both her sister and the newly-engaged Mr. Bingley, it was not surprising that Jane's proposal had included a small amount of preparation on the part of Mr. Bingley.

"In my mind, I knew what I was hoping he would say," Jane continued, as she and Elizabeth switched places, and she took up the brush. "But after so much time and patience for him, I did not want to raise my hopes too high."

Jane began to let down Elizabeth's hair without a pause in her story. It was a dance the sisters performed every night, and they knew the steps by heart. Elizabeth felt a small pang of sadness. Tonight, the familiar ritual brought a certain sense of poignancy.

While their mother had been preparing them for marriage for some time, tonight was the first time Elizabeth truly realised what Jane's marriage to Bingley would mean for their sisterhood. While giddy with delight at Jane's good fortune, she also felt the beginning of a small loneliness creeping in. These nights together were fast coming to an end.

"When he first asked me to marry him, he spoke so softly! Barely above a whisper," Jane laughed. "I immediately knew what he had asked, and I felt my heart begin to race, but I had to ask him to repeat himself. I wanted to be sure I had the right of it." She paused, smiling to herself.

Elizabeth watched her in the mirror, pushing her burgeoning melancholy away and focusing on Jane.

"And did he?" She prompted, gently pulling Jane away from her reverie.

"Of course he did! He cleared his throat and asked again with surprising firmness in his voice. He had barely finished his question before I said yes. The look in his eyes is one I will never forget. I can still feel the touch of his hands on mine." She sighed to herself dreamily. "And that's when you walked in."

Now it was Elizabeth's turn to colour. Walking into such an intimate moment between Jane and her newly betrothed was the very definition of awkward.

"What did Mr. Bingley whisper to you just before I came in?" Elizabeth asked. "Right before you hastily broke apart?"

Jane began to brush Lizzy's hair more quickly, and she cleared her throat daintily before answering.

"Just that he would ask Papa for his permission that very moment."

"And so, he did." Elizabeth smiled although she wasn't quite sure whether her sister was telling the whole truth of it. "I will say that I do not know that I've seen both Mamma and Papa so pleased at the same time. You have made them both very proud, my dear sister."

"Lizzy, I'm just so happy! I do not think I've stopped smiling since this morning. And to think, if not for Mr. Darcy, none of this would have happened at all!"

Elizabeth felt her jaw drop an inch before she caught it.

"Mr. Darcy? Are you quite sure?" She asked, barely concealing her shock. "I would think that encouraging Mr. Bingley to renew his attentions towards you to be quite opposite to Mr. Darcy's character."

Elizabeth could still clearly remember how, all those months ago at Rosings, she had discovered Mr. Darcy to be involved in the very act of separating Mr. Bingley from her dear sister. And although she now knew he had done it out of the kindness of his heart towards his friend—confirmed of Jane's indifference to the man—the thought sent a pang of emotion through her chest.

Or rather, the thought of Mr. Darcy did.

"Really Lizzy, do you think so?" Jane asked, oblivious to her thoughts, although her voice carried a puzzled note. "After you related the pleasant time you, aunt, and uncle Gardiner spent with him at Pemberley last summer, I'd quite thought you had changed your opinion."

Elizabeth started, surprised that Jane had so accurately perceived her changing feelings towards the man. After she had refused him, she'd thought herself rid of Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy. But during her travels with their dear aunt and uncle, a chance encounter and dinner at his estate had begun a reversal of thought. Very much so.

She was saved having to respond by Jane's continued narrative.

"Well, as it happens, Mr. Bingley was totally ignorant of my being in London last spring! I had not thought it possible, but it seems Mr. Darcy had come to know about my presence later on and had informed Mr. Bingley of it!"

A light frown creased Jane's forehead and she paused for a moment. "It must have been his sisters' doing. They were certainly no friends to his acquaintance with me, which I cannot wonder at, since he might have chosen so much more advantageously in many respects. I can only hope that with time, they will see that their brother is happy with me, and we shall be on good terms again; though we can never be what we once were to each other."

"Good girl!" Elizabeth said, her eyebrows rising at her sister's insightfulness. "That is the most unforgiving speech that I ever heard you utter."

Jane smiled at her, her mind obviously moving past Miss Bingley and Mrs. Hurst and back to her recent engagement.

"Would you believe it, Lizzy, that when he went to town last November, he really loved me, and nothing but a persuasion of my indifference would have prevented his coming down again! He told me he was quite hesitant to return to Netherfield, believing that—after so many months apart—my feelings were no longer for him."

Jane's face coloured once more, but she continued on. "But Mr. Darcy is quite the insightful man and saw the true feelings Mr. Bingley and I share for one another. He encouraged Mr. Bingley to come here again and renew our acquaintance to the happiest of conclusions!"

Elizabeth struggled to keep her expression neutral. She was in shock. After hearing Mr. Darcy's words on her sister and Mr. Bingley when the man had proposed to her, she could hardly believe he would have interfered in such a manner now!

She wondered, might her own words have affected his change of verdict?

As she and Jane climbed into bed, Elizabeth found herself dwelling upon this new information about Mr. Darcy. She continued to think on it long after the candles went out and Jane began snoring softly beside her. The pang of sadness she had felt earlier was beginning to grow, and it confused her.

She was overjoyed for Jane, she thought as she stared at the ceiling through the darkness. There was no doubt in her mind about that, so why did she feel so much more pensive when Mr. Darcy's name had entered into the story?

Even as she thought the question, she knew the answer. But the answer terrified her.

For long months, she had pondered and dwelled upon Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy. At times, she had found herself furious at his arrogance, only to have her anger turn towards warm regard as she remembered the kindness and hospitality he has bestowed upon her and her dear aunt and uncle at Pemberley— even after she had so thoroughly dismissed his proposal.

Mr. Darcy had been so kind to her as she had visited his estate with the Gardiners—quite the opposite of the man he had been when he'd proposed to her! And it was all kindness she hardly deserved after her incredibly crude rejection of him.

When she considered his attentions to his sister, the care he showed for his tenants and servants... Even the beauty of Pemberley itself, for no man could invest in such loveliness without it touching his heart and character… It all only provided more evidence that she had completely and entirely misjudged Mr. Darcy's character.

Jane's revelation sealed it all in her mind.

Mr. Darcy was indeed a man of great pride and singular self-assurance. However, to condemn him as arrogant was a sin of which Elizabeth must repent.

But the months separating the wonderful days she had spent at Pemberley and this day were proving a chasm between her and her apology.

To prove her contrite heart, she needed a gesture that went beyond a simple apology hastily given. Fortunately, she had no doubt there would be ample opportunity for that—they would both undoubtedly attend the upcoming celebrations at Longbourn and Netherfield in honour of Jane and Mr. Bingley.

Unbidden, an image rose in her mind of a card she and her sisters had seen at a shop in Meryton the week before. Beautifully wrought in red paper and lace, the card had proclaimed the romantic words some lovers were unable to compose. Kitty and Lydia had giggled, as they were wont to do, and they had both declared that they would have no need for others to write their messages of love.

As Kitty and Lydia had sighed over their imagined suitors, Jane had undoubtedly thought of Mr. Bingley. And Elizabeth had shocked herself to realise that she had thought of Mr. Darcy.

A valentine, she thought. That would certainly be a gesture.

Even alone, in the dark, with no one able to hear her thoughts, she felt slightly scandalised. A single woman sending a letter—not even a letter—a valentine, to a man she was not betrothed to…

It was simply not done. Certainly not by respectable ladies from good families. And certainly not by ladies with no dowries who still hoped to make a good marriage. No, it simply would not do.

She tossed and turned on the bed, hoping sleep would provide inspiration for another idea—a respectable way to show her repentance and change of opinion. But sleep was elusive and no other idea came. No other gesture seemed worthy enough. Her mind kept going back to the card, the lace, the valentine.

She sighed to herself, making her decision. A valentine it would be.

It's not as if he would be shocked by her lack of grace and respectability, she thought sadly as she rolled onto her side. He had only proposed to her against his better judgement and this was yet another piece of evidence to that claim.

She felt a small stream of tears begin to roll down her cheek and disappear into the fabric of the pillow. She was exceedingly glad Jane was not awake to ask her what was wrong. Whether her tears were because he thought of her so, or because she knew that no matter how she repented, he would never propose to her again, she truly did not know.

After long hours of tumbling in the bed, sleep finally began to overtake her, as if it had only been waiting for her to make the decision. Slowly, the blackness of the room enveloped her mind.

Her last thought was of Mr. Darcy and the valentine…