Jane felt the tremors of fear pulling at her, but managed to keep her
courtly gaze serene until Elizabeth closed the door.
She silently rebuked herself- for it was only Mister Bingley, and it had already been decided that she was capable of being perfectly amiable with him.
Though not, apparently, on this day. Try as she did to raise her glance to meet his, she found herself only glancing into his eyes for a moment, before her gaze slipped to that of the wall again.
Mr. Bingley seemed equally uncomfortable. His usual stately yet kind countenance was slightly tinged with nervousness, and his fingers wound together quite distractedly.
Finally, he settled for a direct approach. "Miss Bennet," he began, but found his reserve lost as Jane's eyes met his.
Words and actions ceased for a moment, as both parties stared at each other, before bemusedly dropping their gazes at once.
Mr. Bingley dropped all pretense and propriety to gently reach down and clasp her hands, to prevent her further alarm.
"Miss Bennet," he began again, holding her hands tightly within his own, as she gazed at him with astonishment.
His heart cried out, entreating him to continue. "I know not where your feelings lie. But I can assure you as to my own feelings," he said.
"I have loved you from the moment we danced together. I've abhorred these months I've strayed from your beautiful presence. I. . .I cannot stand not knowing any further. I shall prevail upon you no more, should that be what you desire. But should it not. . ."
Bingley cleared his throat at this, pausing to brace himself. When he looked back into her eyes, his own were filled with nothing but love. "I love you and desire greatly for you to. . .be my wife, if you shall accept me," he finished quickly, as his hands began to tremble.
Jane herself was trembling, not only in hands but also in heart. For this was what she had dreamt of hearing for so long, and she feared that she'd somehow mistaken his intent.
Rising quickly, she found her hands freed now and immediately pressed them together. She felt the warmth still left from Bingley's own, and her breath caught.
He'd stood up as well, and whilst Jane struggled with her own thoughts, his gaze was that of a tortured man. Mastering her courage, she spoke.
"I. . .Mr. Bingley, nothing would. . .please me more than to be your wife," she whispered, gaze wandering up slowly from the floor to meet his.
But Mr. Bingley's look had not changed, and Jane feared that she had *indeed* mistaken his proposal- for perhaps he had meant for her to refuse? And thus be done with her? For what of his sister's wishes, and her own state of unworthiness. . .
She felt herself start to melt under the pressure, and his arms quickly came about her own. Bingley's look soon turned from that of fear to one of astonishment and utter happiness. Jane found herself quite unable to resist smiling back, even as she was still unassured. His hands had slowly descended to rest, once again, in the security of her own.
Mr. Bingley seemed to still disbelieve this blessing of fortune. "You consent to be my wife?" he asked again, as if to be sure, and this time Jane's smile rivaled the brightness of the sunlight in the room. "I quite believe I do, " she managed to reply, and the love in his eyes nearly overwhelmed her.
The door opened behind them, and both realized that they were most improperly standing with hands still entwined. As Elizabeth entered, she realized that the situation, and attempted to make apologies.
But Jane stopped her, and Bingley allowed himself the pleasure of giving Jane a small whisper of his regards and a kiss on her cheek before exiting the room. He knew that the good-hearted Elizabeth would forgive his indiscretion.
Jane felt Elizabeth's gaze on her, but could only linger on the kiss Mr. Bingley had given her. She felt loathe to break her mind from it, but she was then reminded by her thoughts that soon she'd be allowed such pleasures as his wife.
The thought made color rise to her cheeks, as she turned to face her sister.
She silently rebuked herself- for it was only Mister Bingley, and it had already been decided that she was capable of being perfectly amiable with him.
Though not, apparently, on this day. Try as she did to raise her glance to meet his, she found herself only glancing into his eyes for a moment, before her gaze slipped to that of the wall again.
Mr. Bingley seemed equally uncomfortable. His usual stately yet kind countenance was slightly tinged with nervousness, and his fingers wound together quite distractedly.
Finally, he settled for a direct approach. "Miss Bennet," he began, but found his reserve lost as Jane's eyes met his.
Words and actions ceased for a moment, as both parties stared at each other, before bemusedly dropping their gazes at once.
Mr. Bingley dropped all pretense and propriety to gently reach down and clasp her hands, to prevent her further alarm.
"Miss Bennet," he began again, holding her hands tightly within his own, as she gazed at him with astonishment.
His heart cried out, entreating him to continue. "I know not where your feelings lie. But I can assure you as to my own feelings," he said.
"I have loved you from the moment we danced together. I've abhorred these months I've strayed from your beautiful presence. I. . .I cannot stand not knowing any further. I shall prevail upon you no more, should that be what you desire. But should it not. . ."
Bingley cleared his throat at this, pausing to brace himself. When he looked back into her eyes, his own were filled with nothing but love. "I love you and desire greatly for you to. . .be my wife, if you shall accept me," he finished quickly, as his hands began to tremble.
Jane herself was trembling, not only in hands but also in heart. For this was what she had dreamt of hearing for so long, and she feared that she'd somehow mistaken his intent.
Rising quickly, she found her hands freed now and immediately pressed them together. She felt the warmth still left from Bingley's own, and her breath caught.
He'd stood up as well, and whilst Jane struggled with her own thoughts, his gaze was that of a tortured man. Mastering her courage, she spoke.
"I. . .Mr. Bingley, nothing would. . .please me more than to be your wife," she whispered, gaze wandering up slowly from the floor to meet his.
But Mr. Bingley's look had not changed, and Jane feared that she had *indeed* mistaken his proposal- for perhaps he had meant for her to refuse? And thus be done with her? For what of his sister's wishes, and her own state of unworthiness. . .
She felt herself start to melt under the pressure, and his arms quickly came about her own. Bingley's look soon turned from that of fear to one of astonishment and utter happiness. Jane found herself quite unable to resist smiling back, even as she was still unassured. His hands had slowly descended to rest, once again, in the security of her own.
Mr. Bingley seemed to still disbelieve this blessing of fortune. "You consent to be my wife?" he asked again, as if to be sure, and this time Jane's smile rivaled the brightness of the sunlight in the room. "I quite believe I do, " she managed to reply, and the love in his eyes nearly overwhelmed her.
The door opened behind them, and both realized that they were most improperly standing with hands still entwined. As Elizabeth entered, she realized that the situation, and attempted to make apologies.
But Jane stopped her, and Bingley allowed himself the pleasure of giving Jane a small whisper of his regards and a kiss on her cheek before exiting the room. He knew that the good-hearted Elizabeth would forgive his indiscretion.
Jane felt Elizabeth's gaze on her, but could only linger on the kiss Mr. Bingley had given her. She felt loathe to break her mind from it, but she was then reminded by her thoughts that soon she'd be allowed such pleasures as his wife.
The thought made color rise to her cheeks, as she turned to face her sister.