Summary: After reading Mr Darcy's letter, Elizabeth acts on impulse and runs after him to ask a question regarding something she read in his letter. One-shot
Genre: Humour, romance.
Characters: Mr Darcy, Elizabeth
Rating: K
Chapters:1
Status: Complete
I had just finished Mr Darcy's letter, and was still thinking over its contents.
There was no doubt that what he had said was the truth; nobody but a madman would make up a story like that about his past. This letter in my hand contained so many answers, and yet provoked so many questions.
In a rash, impulsive act, I turned back and flung open the gate that lead to the grounds of Rosings, and ran in hopes of finding that confusing gentleman from Derbyshire who had given me this equally confusing letter.
I did not have to run very far, for Mr Darcy was pacing about a clearing in the densely grown trees of the Rosings Park plantation, just out of sight from the gates. He was clearly determined to calm his agitated self down before facing his formidable aunt again.
So agitated was he in fact, that he didn't realise my presence for a while, and I had a moment to catch my breath.
But that was only a moment.
He suddenly became aware of my presence, and looked as if he was seeing a ghost. I had not realised earlier, but he looked rather disheveled and rugged this morning. He still wore his clothes from yesterday, his large greatcoat looking almost unrecognisable when not impeccably washed and pressed as always. He had a dark stubble which made his extreme masculinity even more pronounced than usual.
I had but a moment to observe all this, as he strode to me in three large steps. Never before had his tall gait and presence been more keen.
Overwhelmed by his proximity and still fatigued from my mad dash, I blurted out, "Why?"
He looked puzzled, and well he should. Here I was, the woman who had shamelessly refused and berated him not even one day ago, standing before him, asking the vaguest question that could be asked under our current circumstances.
"My apologies madam, but I don't have the pleasure of understanding you."
Oh, that was Fitzwilliam Darcy all right! Always the most polite example of a gentleman, even when suddenly confronted with unexpected events. And that brought me back to my present question.
"Why were you named after your mother's maiden name?" I blurted out.
It was easy to see that this was the last inquiry he was expecting to hear from me. Strangely enough, of all those questions I had wanted to ask on first reading his letter, this was the one which was first on my mind.
Because he was so unprepared for my question, it took a moment for him to hide his confusion. As soon as he had composed himself, he answered in the most nonchalant tone he could muster, "We Darcy's have a family tradition of naming the firstborn son after his mother's maiden name."
That seemed like an adequate answer, but strangely enough, something deep inside prompted me to continue this topic of discussion.
"But wasn't your father's name George?"
Mr Darcy smiled at that, whether because of the silliness of my question, my remembering his father's name or even the remembrence of that deceased parent himself, I do not know.
"Unfortunately, that tradition skipped a generation with my father." he gave a slight chuckle and continued, "It wouldn't do to have the heir to Pemberley named Gotobed, now would it?"
I couldn't contain my mirth at that, and we both burst out laughing. It sounded strange and melodious in the usually silent, solemn atmosphere of Rosings.
After our initial mirth had died down and the awkwardness of our situation was realised, I added in a more solemn, thoughtful tone,
"Naming your child De Bourgh would not be very desirable. I guess the tradition would have to skip another generation."
Darcy's countenance suffered an immediate change for the worse. He looked agitated and started pacing again.
"I do not know where you heard of that imaginary betrothal between myself and my cousin Anne, but please remember that it is only a figment of my aunt's crazy imagination, and will never take place. Ah, what a foolish cad you must have thought me for proposing to you, and in such an abominable way, while believing me to be attached elsewhere. That only added to-"
But before he could continue his self degrading monologue, I cut him off short by observing, "Of course, the name Bennet would sound rather nice. Yes, I can picture that. Bennet Anthony Darcy. I've always liked the middle name Anthony."
Fitzwilliam Darcy, newfound love of my life, was stuck speechless at that. He looked so adorable in his disheveled state, mouth slightly agape, his expressive eyes staring wide and disbelievingly at me.
I smiled and decided to end his agony of uncertainty. So I covered the distance left between us and stood on my tiptoes so that our foreheads and noses nearly touched.
"You Darcy's aren't the only ones with family traditions. For many generations the Bennet women have given their own proposals to their fiancées, usually after, but occasionally before their gentleman's proposal."
I stood back and knelt down on one knee before him. "As I am not one for breaking a tradition as this, here we go." I cleared my throat and went on,
"For minutes I have struggled, it will not do. My feelings will not be repressed. You must allow me to tell you how ardently, and quite recently, I have come to admire and love you."
My smile turned mischievous as I continued, "I will say no more, in fear that I will mess it up like someone I know. My letter writing skills are rather bad, and so I might not be able to change your mind should you refuse after that. So without further ado, I ask you, Fitzwilliam Darcy, to make me the happiest woman in England and accept my hand in marriage."
By this time, my Fitzwilliam was nearly bursting with joy, with the most brilliant smile I had ever seen gracing anyone's features.
Without thinking, he fell down on his knees in front of me, nearly knocking me over in his loving embrace. I laughed as I saw how shocked he was at his own forward actions.
To assure him of my approval, I dragged him down to lay on the ground beside me, and pinned him in place with my arms.
Right then and there, we had a first kiss that neither of us shall easily forget.
After our heated first kiss and another few additional ones, he helped me up and we started strolling around the grounds of Rosings, perfectly content. Anyone who could have seen us then would never have guessed the course of our earlier activities, except for our disarrayed clothing, which I think might have given it away.
But luckily nobody saw us, and we had a while to enjoy each others company.
After a while, my fiancé enquired, "So when did you first realise that you loved me?"
I thought for a moment and then answered, "I believe it was while we were laughing together at your grandmother's ridiculous maiden name. The way we laughed together in harmony, made me realise that we would also be able to live happily and in harmony with each other for the rest of our lives.
"After that it was only a case of eliminating the possible hurdle of your engagement to Miss de Bourgh. It was smooth sailing from there."
The next day saw us both on our way to Hertfordshire for my father's consent.
Two months later saw Mr and Mrs Fitzwilliam Darcy happily on our wedding trip.
A month after that saw us attending Jane and Miss de Bourgh's double wedding to Mr Bingley and Col. Fitzwilliam respectively.
Now, exactly two years after that fateful day at Rosings, I am here at our wonderful home, with little Bennet Anthony Darcy sound asleep in the Pemberley nursery, and my husband in his study.
But I am not sitting alone from where I am writing here in Fitzwilliam and my shared chambers.
We have been thinking that our dearest Bennet would grow quite lonely without a playmate. Luckily, Fitzwilliam and I have been working very hard in trying to correct that.I have been writing this down while trying to come up with a way to tell my dearest husband that our attempts have not been in vain.
I wonder if the Darcy's have any family traditions regarding the naming of a second child...
A/N: Thank you so much for reading my very first fanfiction! I would like to hear what you guys think and get some feedback.
A very special thanks to Wade H for beta reading, and inspiring this fanfiction. If you like PP fanfiction, go check his stories out, he's an awesome writer!
Wade, thanks again. I couldn't have done it without you.