When she eventually was able to speak again it was with some indignation at not having received the news straight away.
“And when did that come to pass? While Jane was in London, I presume...”
“Actually when she was in Kent to take care of me.”
“Ah, so that was why Mr Bingley did not call on her! Your mother told me all about his neglect while poor Jane has been in town. That he did not call on her once. Not once! But alas that explains a lot. He obviously cannot be in two places at the same time, can he?”
“No,” Elizabeth simply replied, seeing that once again any explanation would make matters more complicated than they already were anyway.
“Does he have any relatives in Kent then? Odd that he should not have said so when he was here seeing that your own cousin must live close by.”
“He has not. He was staying there with Mr Darcy, Aunt.”
“Mr Darcy? Well, I do get the feeling half of our acquaintances were down in Kent while we had hardly anything to do but attend the one or other dinner party. By the by, the last dance at the assembly... - Now you would not believe how charming Mrs Forester's new gown looked despite her present unfortunate figure. Women in her condition always tend to look a little awkward, you know? And besides, I swear that she is quite some months along already. Pretty scandalous, if you ask me, seeing that she has not been married to the colonel for more than three months! But one can already clearly see that she is expecting. There is little doubt about that.”
“I think you are mistaken, Aunt,” Lydia threw in.
“You are still young and innocent in the ways of the world, my dear, but let me tell you, in some months we will see who was right, you or I,” Mrs Philips huffed.
Elizabeth was quite unable to form an opinion. Mrs Forester had always been slightly chubbier than was fashionable at present and besides, she was not a very tall woman, she could just as well have gained a little weight as she could be expecting. She certainly was the type for the former, while the latter might be scandalous, but not so much seeing that she was seemingly happily married. As a matter of fact, her husband positively doted on her, whether it was deserved or not. Elizabeth herself had not formed much of an opinion in regards to the lady, while Colonel Forester appeared to be a very sensible and intelligent man.
They chatted about this or that for the remainder of their visit, though naturally Jane's unexpected engagement resurfaced ever now and then, leading to a lot of talk about new gowns and dressing up bonnets and the like. Nothing that was of much interest for Elizabeth. She was rather wondering whether Mr Bingley upon his return, would bring his friend along...
The thought had occurred to her quite unexpectedly and not wholly welcome for once it had come, she all of a sudden vividly remembered her scandalous dream in all its embarrassing detail. The kisses, the caresses, and something she could not name. It was nothing she had ever encountered before and yet, the warmth she had literally felt between her legs when she had woken up, made her blush over and over again. But surely, it must be impossible that such an intimacy could be this comfortable. Or could it?
When they returned home, the whole of Longbourn was in an uproar and the reason for that was by no means hard to guess. Mr Bingley's chaise and four standing in their driveway was unmistakeable. He was here. Jane's very own Mr Bingley had returned to Hertfordshire. Elizabeth could hardly suppress a grin at so much eagerness on his side.
And while he had said that he would return as soon as he possibly could, that it would be quite this soon, nobody had anticipated. At least Kitty, Lydia and herself had been warned by Mrs Philips, but he must have left London very early indeed to be here already. It was barely past noon.
Whatever it had been, and again that was not difficult to guess, his business had not kept him in town for long. Once Mr Bingley had claimed that whatever he did was in a hurry, and it appeared that he had indeed not been exaggerating. She also, remembered Mr Darcy's reply to it, that hurrying was not always a good thing and could leave many a thing but half finished. Or at least something along those lines. The time when Jane had fallen ill last November seemed like a lifetime away. So many things had happened and yet here they still were much the same as always. Though perhaps not quite. How was it possible that so many things could change and yet everything was still the same somehow? If ever there was a paradox here it was.
Their mother, anxious to show off her housekeeping, dashed back and forth between the kitchen and the sitting room to ensure the offered refreshments were nothing but perfect. Mary had obviously been designated chaperone and with a bored face flipped through a book without doing any actual reading, Jane and Bingley had retreated towards another corner of the room to talk in private, yet still clearly within Mary's line of vision; and their father was sitting in front of the fire place comfortably talking to... - Mr Darcy.
So he had come along, after all. Despite herself, Elizabeth's heart did a little somersault and her mouth went dry, just as her cheeks once again flushed. In her dream Darcy had not looked half so formal as he did now. And yet, where before he had hardly spoken a word to her father, they seemed to get along very well indeed. Once in a while their faces would turn positively cheeky and the occasional chuckle drew her attention to a point of complete distraction, while desperately Elizabeth tried to concentrate on her needlework which she had picked up after a short greeting, if only to occupy her thoughts a little bit. Not that it worked.
“How are you, Miss Elizabeth?” Darcy suddenly addressed her. “You do look much better than when I saw you last. Being back home does you well.”
“Perhaps it does, Mr Darcy, but after a mere day, perhaps that cannot be established for certain.”
“Perhaps not. And yet, I have to admit that I always feel so much better when returning home that it might very well be the joy alone being back where one can be oneself without any pretence,” was his thoughtful reply as he sat down beside her, admiring her work.
Or at least pretending to, for she had not gotten very far and besides was not exactly accomplished at embroidering cushions.
“I have to say that I am quite surprised to see you here again so soon,” Elizabeth admitted.
“Pleasantly so, I hope,” he smiled, before quickly casting down his eyes and blushing in a way that was so very appealing and touching, it was hard not to stretch out her hand and caress his burning cheeks.
“I... - I mean, that I hope I am no bother,” he at last stammered.
“By no means. I am glad you came. And besides, I had not had the chance to thank you properly for all your assistance. It was very kind of you to send for your physician on my behalf and to ask Mr Bingley to deliver the draught was quite ingenious,” she added quietly as to not be overheard.
Though there was little danger of that, since her mother had just stepped back into the room and was chattering animatedly to the couple by the window.
“Well, let us say it was a lucky thought. I also sent Dr Kendall to Mrs Turner, by the way, and she is now on the mend, as I have been informed by Mr Collins.”
“You did?!”
“Yes, why not? My aunt should have paid head to Mrs Collinses advice and sent for the apothecary a long time ago, seeing that the poor woman could hardly afford it herself.”
“But as I understood it, she is not one of your aunt's tenants...”
“No, she is not, but her husband had worked at Rosings all his life and his wife still helps out whenever an extra hand is needed. It is a matter of decency and I have to dearly apologise on my aunt's behalf. It was an oversight that I am certain stemmed from the conviction that it was nothing but a cold Mrs Turner suffered from and it was. It is just that at her age, these things can take forever if not properly taken care of and especially under such harsh conditions, with her house in some need of repair, damp and cold. However, that has been taken care of, too. - What are you making?”
Again he had blushed, when he realised that he sounded as if he e
xpected some praise from her, when it was actually quite clear that he had merely intended to set her at ease after she had worried so over the poor old basket maker.
“A cushion. That is, it will be if I ever can bring myself to finish it. I have to admit that I am not much of a seamstress.”
“There can be a surplus of cushions on a sofa...” he remarked dryly.
“Indeed and then, where are the people to sit?”
“Well, as long as there is the odd chair left, that might not be much of a problem, but...”
“I take it you have had the misfortune to spend many an evening standing due to the unfortunate circumstance of there being too many cushions?”
“Once in a while, perhaps. The other occasions were that standing was simply more comfortable than sitting down seeing that the design of the had taken precedence to its actual comfort,” he replied wryly.
As odd as it was that they chatted about such nonsensical things as cushions and uncomfortable seats, it showed his sense of humour like barely any of their other conversations ever had. And if she was honest with herself, she quite liked it.
“But I have to say, these chairs are perfectly comfortable and with just the right amount of cushions,” he concluded with some sincerity, though the amused glint in his eyes was still there and bound to take her breath away.
Other than Mr Wickham's insincere grimace, Darcy's smile was definitely an honest one.
“As you can imagine, my friend has been very eager to return here and I agreed to join him to help with the preparations at Netherfield. Not much was done last time he had been here and while the house is perfectly habitable, he insists that some improvements have to be made to welcome the new Mrs Bingley. Sunday next the first banns will be read and there are only two things left to do, one is to draw up a wedding contract, and the other is for my friend to inform his sisters of his upcoming nuptials.”
“Oh dear!”
“Indeed.”
Chapter 20
The next morning Darcy once again woke up from a rather titillating dream, just that this time around his usual strategy of walking his desire for Elizabeth off did not do its trick. Their little chat as nonsensical it had been for the better part of it, her smile and sparkling eyes the previous day were still so vividly in his mind that in the darkness of his chamber he could almost imagine that if he stretched out his hand, he could touch her.
If only that were true! He could pull her close and kiss her deeply until she would be moaning in his arms ready for more. If only he could run his hands over her body instead of his own. At long last he gave in to his physical need, tentatively reaching down to stroke his throbbing length. It was but a small relief, for sure. No matter how much he tried to imagine it to be her hand, he was still acutely aware that it was his very own that gripped himself firmly slowly but surely increasing the pace until with a small and fairly shameful sigh he went over the edge.
At least it was considerably later than the time he normally woke up and as the sun was rising in the east, Darcy dressed himself without the help of his valet, and rather informally at that, and sneaked downstairs for a little walk before breakfast to quench the remaining ardour running through his veins. How was it that Bingley seemed to suffer no such desires? It was not as if Miss Bennet was not likewise a very beautiful woman, there was little use denying it. But she was not her sister. No, Elizabeth Bennet was different, perhaps not as beautiful in the common sense, and yet more so in his eyes. Perfect in every sense. And the more he knew of her, the more he wanted her by his side as his wife. Nothing more and nothing less. It was not just that he desired her physically, by no means, her company was enthralling, even when neither of them spoke a word and was it not the best of signs that one could sit together in comfortable silence without the slightest hint of awkwardness?
The morning was fresh but lovely as the first rays of early sunshine broke through the clouds that had gathered in the sky overnight bringing with them a slight drizzle that had only just ceased. The grass was dewy and lush, the first green leaves sprouted from the trees and here and there some early flowers peaked through shyly dotting the landscape with their cheerful colour. In the trees birds were singing in sear of their mate and it was plain impossible to not feel perfectly content.
Climbing up a steep hill, much to Darcy's surprise, he became aware of a figure moving in the same direction as he was. A figure he knew well and while he knew that Elizabeth was in the habit of walking whenever she had the chance, to see her out this early, was still a surprise. As yet, she had not spotted him and with a smile he watched her scampering along the path that was hard to make out from his position but that he knew was there. He had walked it once before, when he had first come here and had needed some time away from Miss Bingley and her equally annoying sister. But no, not thinking such unpleasant thoughts, when before him the sight had his heart swell. Elizabeth looked well this morning as if she had never been ill at all. Well, she had a sturdy constitution and was an active kind of person who would never take to bed for long. At least not because she had been ill. That perhaps she might be tempted to stay in bed for some time after...
With a small sigh Darcy stopped his train of thought and instead ambled over towards the second oldest Miss Bennet.
“Mr Darcy!” she cried out in some surprise when finally she became aware of him, seemingly roused from some deep thoughts of her own.
“Good morning, Miss Elizabeth. How are you?”
“I am very well, thank you. And you? I mean, what brings you out this early in the day?”
“I could ask you the same question, but to answer your questions, I am very well, too. And as for me being out and about already, that is easily enough explained, I simply could not find any more sleep after I woke up early this morning, as I do most mornings, actually. I am not much of a man for town hours, I have to admit.”
“I would not have thought you to be,” she laughed back before suddenly looking slightly sheepish. “And I could not sleep either. The sun just peeked into my chamber and tickled my nose until I was wide awake and so I got up and sneaked out of the house to ramble around a bit until breakfast.”
“Shall we ramble together then?” Darcy asked gathering his courage.
At Rosings they had come across each other so naturally that there had been little cause for awkwardness and there had always been something to discuss somehow, now, however, things were different. He did not even know what to say. For a moment he even thought she would decline but after some inner dialogue she accepted with a shy little smile. Miss Elizabeth Bennet shy? Who would have thought? Was she not always bold and brave?
Offering her his arm she took it, this time without any hesitation and so they ascended the rest of the small mount. The prospect from the top was a marvellous one. No wonder she had ventured so far from home even this early. But as the sun slowly but surely climbed over the hills in a symphony of gold, red and purple, the only sight even more beautiful was the woman standing by his side.
It was on an impulse that he drew her closer to him and when again she did not pull away, he did the unthinkable as he bent down and placed the softest of kisses on her lush lips. A small gasp escaped her, yet she did not pull away. If anything she drew closer and as his arms snaked around her slender form, hers were wrapped around his neck, pulling him ever so much closer. The reaction to her being so close was inevitable as he could feel himself harden and it was only when she became aware of his manhood rubbing against her middle that she finally pulled back, her eyes wide in surprise, shock, and shame. Goodness, what had he done? What he had always feared would eventually happen had happened. He had lost his grip on himself and now he had startled her to a point where she would surely never want to have anything to do with him again.
“I... - I think I should return home before I am missed,” she all but stammered.
She certainly had a point but no, he could not have her leave just like that. He had to explain himself
.
“Miss Bennet, please, forgive me, I did not mean to offend you. As it is, I have struggled for so long, but in vain... - I... - I cannot help it. I love you!” Darcy blurted out doltishly.
Well, congratulations, he had just managed to make it ultimately worse. Where before she might have thought him to be a fool, now she must know for certain that he indeed was.
“You do?”
Her soft astonished voice made him look up again and into her eyes so full of hope and doubt at the same time. Could it be possible?
“Of course I do, Miss Bennet. With all my heart. I know I was not exactly recommending myself when we first met and quite honestly I thought if only I would not see you for a while, I would be back to my old comfortable and occasionally grumpy self. But I was wrong. All those weeks without you made me long for you and when we met again in Kent I knew that I would never be happy without you. When you told me how heartbroken your sister was, I knew exactly how she must feel, though I have to admit that it took me seeing you again that made me realise what exactly it was I was missing.”
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