Seven Days With Mr Darcy

by Rose Fairbanks

  It was almost too much for his honour to bear. Feeling his excitement rise and Elizabeth leaving her inhibitions behind, his courage rose to the front. He slowed their frenzied kissing and loosened his hold on Elizabeth. She looked half-ravaged. Her hair in disarray and cheeks flushed.

  “My Lizzy,” he said and stroked her cheek.

  “Yes, I am yours,” she sighed against him. “Do not ever forget it.”

  “I could never. You are imprinted on my heart.”

  Darcy encouraged her to turn and sit between his legs with her back against his chest. Wrapping his arms around her, he rested his chin on her shoulder as their hearts calmed and breathing returned to normal.

  “Your sister said you were ill while at Longbourn,” Darcy observed. He would not press her for details, but he had wondered about that, combined with her appearance at her first arrival. Elizabeth’s hands idly ran over his, sending shivers down his spine.

  “I had thought I starved your love away. I mourned your loss. I saw Lady Aurora and realised how extreme the compliment of your hand was. You could have had a lady like her—far above me in beauty, rank, and fortune. Who am I compared to all the world had to offer you? I spitefully and wrongly refused you.”

  “Did you think so little of me that I would carelessly offer my heart and then hand it to another within weeks of your rejection? Or did you discredit the depth of my regard?”

  Elizabeth shook her head. “When you proposed—it shocked me. I had not expected it or ever guessed. Charlotte did think you loved me, but I question her understanding of the notion. She saw near as much love from Colonel Fitzwilliam. I had not thought you capable of such deep, intense emotion. Before reading your letter, I attempted to explain it as merely an idle fancy from boredom in Lady Catherine’s home.”

  “I do not know the hour or the spot that set my course. I had started to love you before I knew it had begun. Sometime in Hertfordshire sealed it for me, although I did not recognise it for a very long time.”

  “That is as I had imagined it.”

  Darcy could hear the smile in her voice. “And after you read my letter?”

  “I instantly understood how you were capable of such deep feeling but also able to conceal it so well. I saw the truth of your account with Wickham, and in time, began to accept what you said of Jane and Bingley. By the time I returned to London and was told how you called on my aunt and uncle and clearly restored Bingley to Jane, I saw you in a new light. You had always fascinated me. Now, it seemed the harder I looked, the more I saw good in you.”

  “I did not bring Bingley to Jane. I confessed to concealing her presence in Town, but he decided to call on her on his own. For a time, I thought it would ruin our friendship, but after seeing evidence of her continued affection, he heartily forgave me.”

  “So do I,” Elizabeth said. “It is little different than I tried to do when Charlotte told me she was to marry Mr. Collins. I hope you can forgive my hypocrisy.”

  “I cannot because I do not accept it was a double-standard. In each case, you had a lively interest, and the lady is always in the least advantage in these situations. You know Miss Bennet best, and she is blessed to have your loyalty. But what happened with Marshall after I left Town?”

  “Oh,” Elizabeth said and paused. “After our dance, he hinted very strongly he had something of importance to say to me. I may be slow to catch on but the third time’s the charm with gentlemen, I suppose. I apprehended his meaning and feigned a hurt ankle so I could not dance.”

  Darcy smiled at her cleverness and squeezed her waist for a moment. Elizabeth laughed, the sound going straight to his heart.

  “Over the next few days, I made up excuses to miss his calls or did not give him my full attention. He took the hint and came around less and less. Eventually, it was time for me and Jane to return to Longbourn. Mama believed Bingley would propose at the prospect of losing Jane again. She was right. We went home, Bingley followed, but then my uncle needed assistance in the move. Where Bingley went, Jane was allowed to follow. It was I who had to beg and plead to come along.” Elizabeth paused for a moment. “My aunt and uncle intervened, but I had not thought they suspected anything. Can you imagine why?”

  Darcy chuckled. “The first time I met your uncle he had figured out I fancied you. Rather than putting him off, I decided to confess that I loved you but knew I had no chance for you. He suggested to me multiple times—as did Bingley and Richard—that I attempt to win your hand, but I would not listen. It seems we were each blind regarding the other. They saw what we were too afraid to believe.”

  “Never again, though,” Elizabeth vowed. “I hope I do not appear inconstant for having changed, so extremely, my opinions from only a few months ago. I was blinded by my judgment and misunderstood your character. Now, I know the truth, and nothing can ever break my heart from yours.”

  Darcy said nothing and only squeezed her tighter. After years of loneliness and isolation, hearing that this woman loved him and would not give him up, filled his heart to bursting. He had never known such love and contentment could exist in the world. A feeling as though every trial he ever went through had led to this moment, making it all the sweeter, filled him.

  “I do not doubt you, Lizzy, if you do not doubt me. I left you three times.”

  “They hardly count as that,” she scoffed. “The first you did not understand the strength of your attachment if I understand what you said earlier. The second time I refused you! Lastly, another man courted me, and to many, it looked as though I encouraged him. I was too preoccupied with thoughts of you, with attempting to show you my changed opinion and to earn a second chance from you, that I did not realise I spent so much time in his company seeming to listen to his words. I thought only of you.”

  Darcy grinned so broadly, he believed his face might crack. “Come, let us return to the house. I must speak with your uncle.”

  As they walked back to Pemberley, hand in hand, they made their plans for the future. Darcy felt, at last, the cold grip of the past had left him.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  As the days passed while the Gardiners stayed at Pemberley until their home was entirely put together, Darcy and Elizabeth continued their private morning walks. Mr. Gardiner had been so delighted with the news of their betrothal, he agreed to allow them as much privacy during daytime hours as they desired. Sometimes they walked to the meadow, at other times they explored various parts of the estate. Darcy could see Elizabeth’s enchantment with her future home growing. Contentment and pride filling him in ways it never had before. He also explained his endeavours for assisting the poor and orphans of his community.

  “You really are the best man I have ever known,” Elizabeth said one day.

  Darcy flushed. He had longed to hear such words from Elizabeth, and as much as a part of him thought to push the compliment away, he knew she would not give him idle praise. Not when she had been so honest in every moment of their acquaintance. He still felt unworthy to carry on the Darcy legacy, but the sting lessened. He could visibly see and tangibly feel the good he now did; something that mattered more than perfectly balanced books.

  “You make me want to be a better man,” Darcy confessed. “Before that night at Hunsford, I had merely gone through the motions of what I had been taught. A good master would do this and would do that. I did not apply myself.”

  “Could my words have meant so much?” Elizabeth shook her head. “I have understood since reading your letter that you have depths of sensitivities and vulnerabilities I never realised, but I had never thought you would esteem me so much.” She met his eyes even as her cheeks flamed. “Seeing you in London, how you went out of your way to talk with my friends—to be friendly with me—it made me feel the weight of your compliment. I accused you of pride, but I was puffed up as well. Seeing your behaviour humbled me. Who was I to take you to task?”

  Darcy lifted Elizabeth’s knuckles to his lips. “You were and are everything to me. I co
nfess if it had been anyone else I might not have listened.”

  Elizabeth pulled one hand from his grasp and placed her palm on his cheek. “I see that now. I see behind your mask. Will you tell me all now?” She licked her lips. “About your dream?”

  Darcy inhaled sharply. Instinct screamed to keep the hurt to himself, to not open the wounds again. Elizabeth’s eyes looked pleadingly at him, and he began to drown in the love and concern her brown depths contained. Recalling how he felt after he confessed the truth of his birth to Elizabeth, Darcy slowly nodded. Yes, sharing it with her would rid him of the pain. She was to be his partner in life, not a child for him to protect. He led her to a bench and wrapped his arms around her. With Elizabeth’s head over his heart, he told her all the dreadful details.

  Elizabeth listened without interruption, and when he had finished, she tilted her head up to kiss him. Tears had come as he recounted his grief and as her lips found his, the salt of her own tears mingled with his.

  “I am here, William,” Elizabeth said as she clung to his cravat and pressed herself against him. “I am here. Alive. Yours.”

  Each press of her mouth against his, each word, each stroke of her hand on his body broke a chain around his restraint. Their kisses became frenzied and passionate. He pulled Elizabeth to his lap, where they could be even closer, the heat of their bodies mingling together. He thrust his hand into her hair, dislodging pins. The other trailed down the softness of her neck, then her arm. Breaking his lips from hers, they followed the path of his hand. Elizabeth gasped, and her head lolled back, giving him greater access. He sucked on her pulse point, feeling its rapid beat for him.

  “Look at me,” he commanded and pulled back. Elizabeth obeyed, and his nostrils flared in appreciation. Through the years, many ladies had approached him with lust and desire in their eyes. Whether for his body or his wealth, he was never sure. What he saw in Elizabeth’s gaze aroused him more than any seductive look he had seen before. In those glittering brown orbs, he saw love and trust.

  Pulling her to him once more, Darcy captured her lips and parried with her tongue. His arms tightened around her, and his hands itched to wander. One day, he told himself. They had the rest of their life to explore each other, to enjoy their passion. Instead, he focused all of his energy on discovering the texture of her mouth, and memorizing every breathy moan with each flick of his tongue. Drowning in it, he slowed their kiss. Finally, his lips left hers and climbed to her forehead. Elizabeth let out a shaky but content sigh. She settled her head on his chest once more, and one hand drew lazy circles down her back while the other stroked her hand.

  When Elizabeth had recovered her breath, she asked in a small voice, “Will you tell me about what it was like when you came to Pemberley?”

  “I…I did not know the truth for many years,” he stroked her hair, keeping his mind anchored in the present even as he told her of the night he last saw his mother.

  “When did you find out about your parents?”

  “Just before Eton. Father had thought they covered it all well. My mother needed the sea air for her health. Ayr was not the typical choice but they claimed they wanted a house near one of the family estates and Mother did not like large towns.” Darcy shook his head. “The opposite was true; she craved people and the energy of constant activity. At any rate, he told me in case there were rumours about my birth. We never knew if my true father told stories.”

  “Who was he?” Elizabeth squeezed his hand which still stroked hers.

  “I never asked,” Darcy shrugged. “He had no legal rights over me. Mother never made it sound like he desired contact with me.”

  “There were never any male visitors?” Elizabeth pressed. “Georgiana…”

  “I found out when I was older that Father would visit Mother. I was never there when they met—kept home and occupied by the maid. They had to pretend to be a happy couple, but I do not think they ever…” Darcy was unsure how to say such things to maiden ears. “That is, he seemed certain Georgiana could not be his.”

  “She does have a certain Darcy look about her.”

  Darcy shrugged. “I had never thought about it, but I suppose you are correct.” Darcy furrowed his brow. “When I first met George Darcy, he seemed cold and imposing. He had just lost his heir, had to face his adulterous wife, and take on her bastard as his own. I was so shy, so uncertain—he had no idea what to do with me. But he was never cruel. Even with Mother, he did not divorce her. Our cottage was not lavish, but all our needs were met. I do not think he would treat Georgiana as he did if she were his.”

  “When did she find out the truth?”

  “What makes you think she knows?” Darcy tensed.

  “When she thinks no one is watching, she has a hint of your uncertainty. It is not mere shyness, and it is more pronounced here than in Town.”

  “I did not know,” Darcy planted a kiss on Elizabeth’s temple. “I knew you would be perfect for her.” He sighed. “I told her after Ramsgate and she had nearly eloped with Wickham.”

  “That must have been a very hard conversation,” Elizabeth stroked his cheek.

  “Not nearly as bad as you would imagine.” Sighing, Darcy explained, “She had long felt something strange about our family composition. The worst was, she seemed to think she was fated to make the same choices as our mother. That she agreed to elope with Wickham due to something bad in her blood.”

  Darcy dropped his voice to a whisper. “I know that feeling intimately.”

  “Do you still feel that way?”

  Darcy could tell by her voice her tears had returned. A desire to protect her even from his own feelings rose up. He could lie and tell her he no longer felt inadequate or unworthy. He could put on his armour and try to be invincible. Or, he could let her in. All she had ever wanted was to see the real him. Such a simple request for any other man, but she had asked it of him. Elizabeth said nothing more. She did not push or pry. Her patience told Darcy that she understood how difficult it was for him. He loved her even more for that. “Sometimes, but I am learning to see the blessings of it. I think I am making Pemberley stronger for the future in ways another man with different experiences would never dream doing.”

  Elizabeth squeezed her arms around his waist. “I think that is exactly right.” She sighed. “Did you ever find out what happened between your parents? What caused her to stray?”

  “I…I do not think it was just one thing. Nothing so simple. Did Father have mistresses? Probably; I think so. Was he unfaithful first? Maybe. But did she love him enough to be jealous of that? I do not think so. I think their temperaments never suited. She loved the Ton and Father despised it.”

  Nodding, Elizabeth said, “I think I understand what you mean. My father and mother are such extreme opposites with so little respect between them.”

  Darcy agreed. “It made me over-anxious about my own mate.”

  “You thought we would not suit?” Elizabeth asked.

  “At first. Your liveliness attracted me, but I am aware that I am dour and stand-offish. In time, I saw your seriousness. I saw your sensitivities and insecurities.”

  “You saw me so much easier than I saw you,” she confessed. “I do not think another person understands me in that way.”

  “I love you,” he said and pressed another kiss to her temple.

  “I love you, my William.”

  A smile came to Darcy’s lips. “I have waited my whole life to have love.”

  “Many others love you,” Elizabeth said. “Georgiana, Bingley, Colonel Fitzwilliam. Mrs. Reynolds adores you,” she added saucily. “Your mother must have loved you.”

  “After I left her, I resented her. Even when Father was taking me away, she said nothing about doing whatever was necessary to come along. She seemed to have no desire to see him or return to Pemberley. If she loved me—if she really loved me—then why did she allow me to go? In all the years that followed, why did she not earn back my Father’s trust?”

 
Darcy squeezed his eyes shut against the pain that threatened to well up. He had learned to think about it logically. “In time, I learned to think about it differently. I know she loved me, but it does not mean she could show it so unselfishly. Whatever drove her to her affairs might have infected all her relationships. Lord knows her brother and sister have issues displaying their affection and love in their families.”

  Elizabeth nodded as though she understood. Given her family, she likely had similar experiences: parents that loved her, but with conditions as they battled their own fears.

  “I will always love you,” Elizabeth said, pulling his head down to hers and meeting his eyes. “And I will never leave you or allow us to be parted.”

  As Darcy worshipped her lips once more, he acknowledged his heart feeling complete. Elizabeth would fight for him. She would never leave him. Everything he had ever wanted was now within his grasp.

  *****

  Finally, the day of Georgiana’s birthday ball had arrived. Darcy grinned to himself; they had actually managed to keep it a surprise. She had asked after the plans for the day at breakfast, and could not contain her astonishment when he explained the masquerade in the evening.

  “Oh! But what will I wear?” she exclaimed after a few moments of profuse thanks to her brother.

  “You may thank Mrs. Gardiner and the Miss Bennets,” Darcy laughed. “They have made all arrangements with your maid, and I think you will be most pleased.”

  “May I go now to see it? Oh! And the ballroom. When was the last time it was used, do you think?”

  Darcy chuckled at her excitement. “Some thirty years or more. I am not sure, none of our current staff was around then. However, yes, you may go now.”

  “Come, Lizzy, Jane!” Georgiana jumped from her seat and tugged Elizabeth by the hand.