Compromised!

by J Dawn King

  Once the countryside beckoned with a siren's call, Elizabeth soon had her coat pulled firmly around her and her gloves tight on her hands. The morning was holding onto the cold of the night with a fierceness that flaunted the ineffectiveness of the sun's rays. The ground was covered in heavy dew which softened the earth and the fallen leaves that lay like a carpet over the carefully cropped grass. Fields beyond the immediate grounds drew Elizabeth and she headed there to stretch her legs and ponder the events of the night before.

  Caroline Bingley had recovered only moments after swooning at Darcy's announcement. Mr. Darcy had carried her to the settee across from the one her brother quickly vacated. When she came out of her faint, Darcy was just laying her down. She had immediately thrown her arm around Darcy's neck and proclaimed herself compromised. She was deeply embarrassed when her memory of the announcement causing her swoon was recalled to mind. There would be no wedding between her and Mr. Darcy. She would not be Mistress of Pemberley and Darcy House.

  Elizabeth chuckled as she remembered the look on Miss Bingley's face as Mrs. Hurst and Mr. Bingley tried to console her. Darcy had backed away from her so rapidly that he almost knocked Bingley off his feet, not realizing the young gentleman was standing right behind him. It was a comedy of errors found to be not at all funny to Miss Bingley.

  Elizabeth wondered if Mr. Darcy had spent his night in restful slumber. Hearing a noise behind her, she looked back to see him approaching. When he came close, she no longer wondered. Dark circles were under his eyes, his cravat was barely tied, and the waves of his hair were already curling tighter in the damp air. He looked wild – unkempt. It was the most attractive she had ever seen him.

  "Mr. Darcy." She gave him a small curtsey to his bow.

  "Elizabeth." He came alongside her and offered his arm. "I was hoping to walk with you this morning. We have much to discuss."

  As she took his arm, Elizabeth nodded in agreement. "I believe we both spent much time in thought during the night. Mr. Darcy."

  "We are engaged to be married, Elizabeth. Might you call me Fitzwilliam or William, as Georgiana does?" His comment was short, like he was upset that she had not assumed she had the right.

  Elizabeth looked at him more closely and could see a small muscle flexing above his jaw. Darcy was tense. She also realized that the muscles under her hand were hard as stone.

  "Fitzwilliam, are you well?"

  "I am." They walked in silence for a moment. And, then he began, "Elizabeth, I am loath to admit that my fervor to settle matters between us yesterday might not have been to our benefit."

  Suddenly, Elizabeth was having a hard time breathing. He was ending the engagement? She had to look away from him as she removed her hand from his arm as if scorched by fire. The feel of him through his coat had burned her, branding her as undesirable. Easily recalled were the words he had uttered at the Assembly, "tolerable" and "not handsome enough". Fanny Bennet had long proclaimed her second daughter as far less pretty than Jane or Lydia; that a gentleman would never be prevailed upon to offer for her because of her intelligent mind and lack of good looks. As her mother's least favorite daughter, Elizabeth had assumed, apparently incorrectly, that it was an insult meant to hurt rather than reflect accurate truth. Now she was unsure and the thought hit her like a blow to the mid-section, knocking the air completely from her.

  Tears of disgust at her own arrogance pooled in her eyes so she turned away from him. Elizabeth bent at the waist, certain she would be sick. What was she to do? Her reputation would be in tatters if the footman gossiped with the rest of the staff. Word of a maiden's ruin at the hands of a gentleman was the thing novels were written about. It titillated the senses and fired speculation of the worst sort. Unless she left Hertfordshire, it would affect the ability of her sisters to remain in local society. Mr. Bingley would not offer for Jane, which would make her responsible for the heartbreak of a most beloved sister.

  "Elizabeth!" Darcy looked on in horror. He rethought his words and could not understand her reaction. Surely, she must have thought on matters as he had and come to the same conclusion. Besides her sparkling eyes, it was her intelligence, her cleverness, which had made her so appealing to Darcy, like no other woman of his acquaintance. He moved to comfort her in the same manner she had done the day prior. Wrapping his long arms around her trembling body, he held her tightly against his chest, whispering soft words of endearment to her; words he did not even know he knew how to use. "Pray, my dear, tell me how I can help you? What has happened to cause you distress? I will do all within my power to vanquish our enemy. Was it Miss Bingley? Did she continue with her unkind words? Just one word from you and I will cut her forever. She will never be welcomed into our homes. Never!"

  The conviction of his utterance finally penetrated her turbulent fears and the offer of his protection was the sweetest melody to her heart. "Our enemy?" "Our homes?" He was not breaking the engagement? She let out a gasp and grabbed him tightly around his waist, pulling herself to him. When had the idea of marrying him become something she desired? She had to be sure of his intentions.

  "William?"

  "Yes, dearest." The phrase now flowed easily off his tongue.

  "Do you… are we… do you still want to marry me?" The sound of her voice was soft. She was unaware they held a pleading tone, like a child hesitant to ask for another sweet, confident it would be denied.

  "For a certainty, I do." He was bewildered. "Elizabeth, what is this about?"

  She could feel him pulling back from her to look at her face, to see her as she answered. Elizabeth, rarely without words, kept her face buried in his chest. She shook her head back and forth, as far as she was able without relinquishing her hold.

  "Elizabeth?" Could it be? "Did you think I had changed my mind about our marriage?"

  She quickly nodded her head up and down, causing her bonnet to tangle in the top button of his coat. Elizabeth felt his hand fumble under her chin for the ribbons. Feeling a gentle tug, the narrow fabric strips were freed and so was her bonnet. She was grateful.

  "My dear, I only meant to discuss the date of the wedding, not whether it would take place."

  "Oh!" It came out a squeak. It was that noise which brought Elizabeth to her senses. She was not her mother, though it sounded like it! Taking a deep breath in and letting it out slowly, she asked. "What is your reasoning for a delay, Fitzwilliam?"

  When she looked up at him, Elizabeth saw a small smile appearing as she uttered his name. It was a good beginning to their conversation.

  "My thinking was that rushing to the altar would give confirmation to the speculators that our compromise was much more… much more… well, that it was worse than it truly was." He ran his left hand through his hair, which she noticed he did when he was uncomfortable. She too was uncomfortable with the topic. "If we set a date for the wedding in two months' time we could enjoy the benefits of being an engaged couple, deepening our knowledge of each other. We would quiet those who expect to see a Darcy baby less than nine months after our marriage." He blushed a brilliant red. "I could bring Georgiana to Hertfordshire to become acquainted with you and your family. Your father could have the banns read and might become more accepting of losing you to me." He paused for breath. "Elizabeth, it was this that I wanted to discuss with you, dearest. Nothing else."

  "Oh." Elizabeth closed her eyes tightly, wondering at being so inarticulate. She swallowed and opened her eyes. "May we walk, Fitzwilliam? I think better as I move."

  He obviously understood her desire. They untangled themselves and she wrapped her gloved hand around his left elbow, feeling him tuck it closely to his side.

  "Sir, I believe your suggestion to be sound. Moreover, I do feel you need to spend some time with your sister cultivating a closeness and forging a bond which will see her through the coming years until she is ready to be out in society. You are her anchor, and I believe I would be an unwelcomed distraction to you." Elizabeth thought of how she would feel to be as is
olated from family and friends as Miss Darcy was. It pained her heart to think of the aloneness Georgiana must face every day that she arose and every night she closed her eyes in sleep. "Please, say you will make the effort to do this."

  This stopped Darcy in his tracks. He knew little about the desires and habits of an engaged woman. What he did know was it was looked upon as an opportunity to be squired by her betrothed to social occasions, to plan, and to become more knowledgeable about her future home and responsibilities. That Elizabeth would sacrifice this time for a young lady she had never met warmed his heart and increased his confidence in his decision.

  "You would allow this, Elizabeth?"

  The intensity of his eyes reflected the depth of his feelings. She was mesmerized at the sight. How could she not have known he was a gentle man, one who would respect her opinions? Elizabeth had long been proud of her ability to read people, to study characters, and be confident in her first impressions. Yet, with this man she had been wrong, so very wrong.

  "Yes, Fitzwilliam. This I will allow." She gifted him with a smile so he would know this came from the heart, that there was no hesitation in her agreement. He responded with a wide smile of his own. Dimples!

  "Elizabeth." He breathed her name before he stepped closer. Reaching towards her with his right hand, she again moved into his embrace.

  Lifting her chin to be able to gaze into the crystal-clear blue of his eyes, she sank into their depths as he lowered his mouth to hers. Her first kiss. Magnificent!

  Chapter Four

  Elizabeth quickly became aware of the danger of spending time alone with Darcy. Emotions poured from her heart to her brain and back so rapidly and randomly that it was impossible to define clearly what she was feeling each time he drew near. Rational thinking disappeared and her body quivered from head to toe. One kiss led to two and then three before he drew back and rested his forehead on hers, trying to calm his breathing. His heartbeat raced in time with hers.

  “Elizabeth,” he whispered. “What you do to me!”

  It comforted her to know he was feeling the same inner tumult. She realized during the night that seeing him so exposed had changed her view of him. She still wondered at the trust he showed by revealing intimate private family matters to her, especially when they were so wholly unrelated to each other. Nevertheless, Elizabeth trusted him as well. She was learning her limits and realized they needed a change of topic that would distract them and diffuse the situation.

  “Fitzwilliam, where might you take your sister for a fortnight? It must be a place you could explore together, a place you can learn to know each other again. Have you a thought on the matter?”

  Darcy put her hand on his arm and they started walking in tandem – comfortable in their conversation. When he asked for her suggestions, she mentioned she had always wanted to tour the Lake District.

  “Then we shall wait until after we marry to travel there as a family, Elizabeth.” Darcy was quick to reply. They would create memories together. “It has been years since I visited the dales of Bakewell. It is close to my home at Pemberley so would be an easy distance. They have small cottages to let where Georgiana and I might enjoy the Peaks, the bath house with the hot spring water, the history, and the pastries.”

  Elizabeth smiled at the mention of the breaded fruit treats. She had recognized his propensity for pastry at breakfast. At the time, Elizabeth recalled wishing he would partake of many more in an effort to sweeten the hard edges of his personality. Now, she knew better. They were not needed.

  “You will be away from Hertfordshire for three weeks, then?” Elizabeth realized she was allowing no travel time between Meryton-London-Pemberley-Bakewell and back to Meryton.

  “Closer to four.”

  She could tell he was mentally adding up his itinerary. One day to London to apply for the license and arrange the marriage settlement. Four days to Pemberley if the weather held and the roads stayed good. Time to pack up his sister and her luggage, plus sort through any business emergencies needing cared for. A day to Bakewell at the longest, added to a stay of two weeks. Then, time to return to Pemberley to repack for their trip south. Four weeks would be closer, but it was not what she wanted to hear. When had he become so necessary to her happiness? Her contentment?

  Disappointment settled on her features and he seemed pleased by it.

  “Elizabeth, I would like to speak with your father after services today. Will you and your sister be in attendance?”

  “No, Fitzwilliam. Jane is still too weak to be amongst so many people. We shall return to Longbourn after your party arrives back from Meryton. Perhaps you might travel with us, sir?” She gazed up at him and was, again, surprised by his ready smile.

  “Or, you might travel with me, possibly?”

  She loved that he teased her. It was unexpected. So much of what she was learning of him was completely opposite to her expectations. She privately agreed with him that there now was a basis for felicity in the future. They decided to return to Netherfield Park to break their fast and prepare for their day - Darcy to services in Meryton, and Elizabeth to help Jane ready to return home.

  A disappointed Bingley met them at the door. The maid who had been attending Jane informed the housekeeper that there was no longer a need to remain at Netherfield Park.

  “Miss Elizabeth, I understand that you and Miss Bennet will be returning to Longbourn this afternoon.” At her nod, he continued. “Pray be unconcerned about your mode of transport. My carriage will be available as soon as we return from services and can carry you both back home.”

  It was a valiant plan. However, it was not according to Darcy’s desire. He thanked his friend and ordered his own carriage be made ready. He would deliver them to their home. Elizabeth saw a glimpse into her future—one where Darcy would care for even the smallest detail. She wondered how that would work with her nature.

  Growing up in the Bennet household, Elizabeth had been responsible for her own education and her own decisions. Certainly, her father provided guidance when requested or stepped in if he thought there might be a potential for harm. Nonetheless, for the most part, Elizabeth was on her own. She relished that freedom. She discerned it was rare for a woman to have that level of independence. She cherished it like the gift and opportunity it was. Having a man make even the smallest decisions for her chaffed like thick wool on tender skin. It was uncomfortable.

  Her father had no respect for her mother and that lack created a friction in the household which was often difficult to ignore. Elizabeth had much different ideas about what marital relations should be. She longed for affection and tenderness. For respect and a sharing of ideas. Darcy’s penchant for control was an issue to her, something they needed to discuss–later.

  ***

  The meeting with Mr. Bennet started no differently from the one the day prior. Mr. Bennet was angry that a man had taken advantage of his Lizzy and he was unwilling to extend forgiveness especially in view of the fact that it had not been sought. Elizabeth stood outside her father’s study, easily able to hear the rumble of deep voices from within. Neither man was willing to budge or to listen. Elizabeth balled her fists at her sides as she paced back and forth in front of the door, frustrated that two intelligent gentlemen were acting out of pride and stubbornness.

  Without thinking of the consequences, she opened the door and walked in. Her father was seated in his worn leather chair behind the desk, looking out the window, his back turned to the door. Darcy rested his arm against the fireplace mantel, his appearance deceptively relaxed. Elizabeth noted his breathing was shallow and realized he was striving to contain his ire. She rolled her eyes at the two men she most admired.

  “Father, Mr. Darcy, might I be involved with your negotiations?” She rarely addressed her father by so formal an appellation. He raised his eyebrow at her as soon as the word left her mouth.

  Mr. Bennet cleared his throat, but he said nothing. There would be no negotiations where silence reigned. At
least he turned back from the window and faced her. Mr. Darcy had moved to stand at her side as soon as she entered the room. A look of displeasure crossed her father’s face. Elizabeth knew that look, though it had rarely been given to her.

  Moving around the desk, she knelt at her father’s feet. She knew he loved her. He was not one for outright expressions of his feelings, yet he demonstrated it in so many subtle ways. She was unsurprised when he sat forward and caressed her cheek with his large hand.

  “Papa.” Elizabeth gazed up at him, undistracted by the familiar wiry, gray and white eyebrows that stuck up at every angle. “Papa, what would you have me do?

  “I do not know, child.” Mr. Bennet shook his head slightly. “The last mention of Mr. Darcy in my home was that he was arrogant and disdainful of the feelings of others. He called you intolerable and not handsome. Those are fighting words to a father.”

  They both heard Darcy’s indrawn breath.

  “Understand, Lizzy, when this young man came to me yesterday, he spoke only of compromise—of reputations ruined.” Mr. Bennet patted her shoulder and rested his hand there. “Dear girl, how could it not anger me and hurt my heart to know you would be tied to this man for a lifetime?” He patted her shoulder again. “I understand his wealth and power, Lizzy. It often gives young men leave to arrogantly believe the universe centers around only them. You have been my world, child. To give you, willingly, to a man like Mr. Darcy is unconscionable. It is not a thing a father could bless.”

  Elizabeth looked quickly to see Darcy’s reaction to the harsh words. His mask had reappeared and was firmly settled on his face. She understood her father as she herself had those same feelings about the man only two days prior. However, so much had changed. He was not the man he presented himself to be. The man behind the mask was wonderful.

  “Papa, I understand why you hold this opinion.” She heard a sound from Darcy similar to the one she heard in the glen and realized the pain her words caused him. Standing quickly, her father’s hand slid from her arm. She went around the desk and stood before her suitor. Though he stared at a point straight in front of him, she looked at his face, memorizing the lines. Elizabeth rested her right hand over his heart, which immediately captured his attention.