by Jayne Bamber
“I am not. I have felt many things, but not anger – not at you, I promise.”
He lowered his arm to take her hand in his. “I am so relieved,” he breathed. “I was afraid I had driven you away.”
“No, I merely needed some distance – some time to think on everything that has happened.”
“And have you?” William held Elizabeth’s gaze. “Elizabeth, I would know what you are thinking.”
She could only offer him a wistful smile as they finally stepped into the drawing room together. “So would I.” In the drawing room, they took a seat together on the sofa, in view of the pianoforte.
Jane and Charlotte had positioned themselves at the instrument, and Richard leaned against it, whispering happily to Jane until he was needed to turn the pages. John sat down in an armchair across the room in a posture of ennui, and picked up a book, while the earl quickly summoned his wife, sister and Sir Edward to make up a game of whist with him. Elizabeth gave them all an arch look, suspecting there was some scheme afoot to leave her with none but William for conversation.
On the other hand, perhaps the strange sense of something in the air existed only in her mind. Determined to simply enjoy her family truly acting like one, for once, Elizabeth smiled at William, hoping they might continue to speak naturally. Jane and Charlotte began to play and sing, and William watched their performance appreciatively for a few minutes, as nobody else appeared to do, aside from Richard. At length, William turned to Elizabeth and whispered, “I hope you will come home soon, to have your share in the wedding planning.”
Elizabeth let out a shaky breath. Home.
“How happy Jane looks – I thought I should never see it again,” he said.
Her heart pounded, and she gazed at William with admiration that she could not conceal – to her relief, his eyes were still fixed on Jane at the instrument, and she was at some liberty to simply marvel at him a moment longer. Of course Mr. Smythe was wrong – so very wrong indeed! She had been wrong, too, for it was clear to her now that William had always wanted Jane’s happiness. He was the very best of men.
He looked her way, and caught her out. Laughing softly, he asked, “Why do you stare at me so?”
“I... I was merely thinking about somebody who annoyed me.”
William raised his eyebrows with a look of alarm. “You were staring at me, thinking of someone who annoyed you?”
Elizabeth gasped with startled laughter, and brought her hands up to her cheeks to hide her face. “No, that is not what I meant to say.” She chuckled to herself at William’s momentary panic, and after a minute he joined in her mirth.
Jane missed a few notes of the song she was playing with Charlotte as she turned to glance back at William and Elizabeth, and Elizabeth could have sworn she saw Uncle Henry, across the room playing at whist, give her mother a roguish wink. She glanced over at John, and her cousin made a great show of raising his book higher in front of his face.
Jane and Charlotte’s duet ended, and Charlotte began a song by herself as Richard led Jane to the furthest sofa from William and Elizabeth, who gazed at her family with affectionate defiance before she turned her eyes on William. Making a slight gesture with her head, she rolled her eyes and clucked her tongue at all their family and then looked back at him. William smirked. “Yes,” he murmured.
Elizabeth shook her head, and as a gust of wind rattled the nearby windowpane, she suddenly stood up and said – rather loudly, for the benefit of her impertinent relations, “My, how it is snowing! It is quite a blizzard.”
The earl drew his attention away from the game of whist for a moment and turned to look out another window near his seat. “Indeed it is,” he cried. “I daresay you shall all have to stay the night!”
“Surely not,” Uncle Edward cried.
“No, no, we insist – is it not so, Phyllis?”
“It would be safest.”
“You and William take the two guest rooms. Lizzy can share with Charlotte, and Anne, you and Jane can take my niece’s room – Catherine and Anne will surely be just as trapped, at the Marquess’s house,” Uncle Henry declared.
Uncle Edward looked at Lady Anne, who gave a little nod of her head, and the earl took that for agreement enough to consider the matter quite settled. Elizabeth glanced over at William; he gave a little roll of his eyes and gestured with his head toward the window farthest from the others. Elizabeth moved that way, peering out the window at the heavy snow blowing about in the wind outside.
A moment later, William joined her, his hands behind his back as he stood at her side, watching the snow. “They are all acting strangely, are they not?”
“I do love our family, but I daresay they are always rather strange.”
William laughed. “That sounds like something Richard would say.”
“Or our lady grandmother!”
“She misses you, you know. You should come and see her. She has tolerated visits from Aunt Catherine and Cousin Anne every day, and grows crankier at the conclusion of each visit.”
Elizabeth laughed softly, still staring out at the snow. “Do not speak of Anne de Bourgh,” she chided, before biting her lip, wondering if she ought to have said something so rude.
“I shall never disagree with that.”
“Is there anything you would speak of?”
William waited to speak until Elizabeth had turned to look at him. “We could speak of your gentleman caller,” he whispered.
Elizabeth wrung her hands. “Oh dear, only if you do not call him that. To own the truth, when I said before that I was thinking of someone who had annoyed me, it was Mr. Smythe that I meant. I was civil to him because I am fond of his aunt, but he really made me so cross today, and I should not like to see him again.”
William looked concerned, and reached out to place a hand on her shoulder. “Has he hurt you, Elizabeth? I swear to God, I will call him out.”
Elizabeth raised her hand to place it atop his, on her shoulder. “No – nothing like that, I assure you. He only made some impertinent remarks about my family, that is all.” She chewed her lip for a moment. It was odd, for Mr. Smythe had clearly been in jest when he suggested that Mr. Collins might call him out, and it occurred to her now that it had been a rather cruel jest for him to make at her cousin’s expense, for Will Collins was a kind young man and did not deserve such derision from a stranger.
“What sort of remarks?” William asked.
“Honestly, the more I think upon it, the more I find fault in his conversation. He insulted Cousin Will – truly, Cousin Will likes absolutely everybody, but not Mr. Smythe, and that alone is remarkable. Mr. Smythe made a jest at Cousin Will’s expense that was not very kind, nor entirely appropriate. And then, there was a comment in passing about Rose – I cannot quite recall, but that it was unseemly, considering she is not yet out in society.” Elizabeth stopped, not wishing to tell William what Mr. Smythe had said of him, and said only, “I should like not to meet with him again.”
“I cannot like this, Elizabeth. I should go and have a talk with this Mr. Smythe.” William removed his hand from her shoulder and brought it down to his side, where he found her fingers and laced them with his, positioning his body so that the gesture might not be observed.
Elizabeth ran her thumb across the top of his hand. “There is no need, William. He... he does not matter.”
William moved closer, his voice trembling. “You were only civil to him because his aunt is your friend... not because of what happened between us?”
Elizabeth drew nearer the window and stared out at the snow. “No, it was only a chance meeting, and not a pleasant one.”
“And, after what happened, could you ever come home?”
There was that word again – home. “You want me there?”
“I do want you,” he breathed. “I only wonder what this Mr. Smythe might want.”
“What does it matter,” she sighed, “I love you, William!”
Elizabeth froze and clap
ped a hand over her mouth, not able to meet William’s eye; she turned her face away, and found eight sets of eyes fixed on them. For a moment, one might have heard a pin drop in the Matlock Drawing room, and then everything suddenly resumed as if nothing had happened – Charlotte continued playing, the earl and his companions went back to the game of whist, Jane and Richard lost themselves in one another’s gaze again, and John once more picked up his book, in which he’d likely not turned a single page.
Elizabeth let out a shaky breath and looked up at William. “Excuse yourself – say you are going to bed. I shall send Charlotte after you, and as soon as I can get away I shall meet you in the library,” he whispered, giving her hand another squeeze.
“Yes, Charlotte shall cover for me.”
***
Elizabeth paced the length of Charlotte’s bedchamber until at last her cousin slipped into the room. “William sent me to come and speak with you.”
Elizabeth rushed to her cousin’s side, falling into her ready embrace. She buried her face in Charlotte’s shoulder and exhaled. “Good God, what have I done?”
“Delighted everyone who is still downstairs,” Charlotte quipped.
Elizabeth could only groan. “I am mortified!”
“Why? Is Jane mortified at being in love with Richard? Is Mary ashamed of her affection for Mr. Bingley?”
Elizabeth shook her head and laughed as she pulled away from Charlotte. “I suppose you are right, only it was such a shocking thing of me to do. Good Heavens, what did Mamma say about it?”
“I daresay they are already planning your wedding at the whist table even now. Poor cousin William!”
Elizabeth sat down heavily on Charlotte’s bed, holding her head in her hands. “I was so anxious at the prospect of seeing him – truly, I did wish to speak with him, but I had no notion that that would come out.”
Charlotte sat down at her side. “I think it a rather good job that it did.”
Elizabeth took a deep breath. “I suppose... I suppose it is a relief to have said it.”
“There now! See, now that you have admitted it, you have nothing to fear. Nothing can hurt you now, for Cousin William’s reaction was most assuring.”
Elizabeth chewed her lip. “He asked me to meet him in the library.”
“Then go, get out of here,” Charlotte said, shooing Elizabeth away with a giggle.
***
The earl and countess were close behind their daughter in retiring for the evening, and John as well. Lady Anne was engrossed in conversation with Sir Edward, as Jane was with Richard, and so Darcy simply slipped unnoticed from the drawing room. He knew it could not be possible that they were all truly so unaware of him, though his demeanor was far more stoic than what he felt inside. Nonetheless, he was happy to be away from them, and let out a deep, discomposed breath as he made his way down the corridor, his mind a whirl.
Elizabeth was waiting for him in the library, and as soon as he shut the door behind him, it occurred to him that he knew not what to say – he ought to have some fine speech to make, yet he was unprepared. She stood in the center of the room, peered nervously up at him, and he went straight toward her, taking her in his arms at once. “I love you,” he said, kissing her face as he held her. “I love you, Elizabeth Bennet.” He kissed her face again. “Elizabeth Darcy.” Again. “I love you, I love you, I love you.” Again, again, again he kissed her face, and finally, her lips.
Elizabeth leaned in, clinging to him, returning his kisses with a force of passion beyond anything he had dared to wish for. His hands were in her hair, on her neck, and finally they slid down her back, gripping her hips as he pulled her closer. Her body responded to his, and in a moment he had lifted her up; her legs wrapped around his waist as his lips trailed down her cheekbones and then down her neck, which she craned back, allowing his mouth to travel lower still.
Only when a moan of pleasure escaped her lips did he stop, feeling a certain stirring himself. He set her down, both of them breathing heavily as they leaned into one another. Finally she looked up at him and smiled. “Did you say, Elizabeth Darcy?”
He gazed down at her, running his hands up her arms until they rested on her shoulders. “Would you like that?”
“Not… not just yet, but... soon, yes. Could you... could you wait?”
Though his body protested otherwise, he said, “For you, Elizabeth, I could wait as long as you wish, so long as I know you will be mine someday.”
Her smile widened, and she kissed him again.
***
Lady Anne and Sir Edward exchanged a knowing look as William slipped silently out of the room. “Jane, my dear, we had better retire.”
“Yes, Mamma,” Jane said, and she stood, smiling up at Richard as he whispered some parting compliment.
Richard bid Anne and Edward goodnight as well, and was granted permission to walk Jane upstairs. As Anne rose to follow them, Edward caught her by the hand. “Stay a while and watch the snow with me, my old friend. I daresay we have much to discuss.”
Anne smiled fondly at him, and extended her hand. “Indeed we have, but not here. Upstairs in the gallery, there is a window overlooking the square – it was my favorite place when I was a girl.”
“Lead the way,” Edward said, taking her hand with an affectionate look.
The house was quiet, the only light upstairs coming from the library as Anne led Edward around the corner, to the gallery. Wide windows stretched from the floor to the ceiling, and Anne drew near them, looking out on the snowy square.
Edward came and stood at her side. “What a night, Anne. Can you believe it? William and Lizzy! And all three of our girls in love, likely to be wed by summer.”
Anne reached out and slipped her hand into his once more, enjoying the warmth of him as her breath frosted over the icy window panes. “I never thought I would see our family so happy again.”
“Nor I, my dear. And yet I must brace myself for what is coming next – endless talk of wedding clothes!”
She laughed. “Oh, yes. I imagine we shall have to ransack your warehouses, Edward.”
“You may take what you like, I am sure.”
Anne gave a sigh of contentment, and wrapped her fingers around Edward’s. “It is strange to think they shall all leave me.”
“Not Lizzy, surely.”
“No, not exactly, but it will be different. I suppose if anyone is to come first in her heart, I am glad it is William.”
Edward squeezed her hand, leaning in until their shoulders touched. “I am glad to hear you say that. I thought… I thought it might bother you. For them to grow up together, and then… well, I was not sure, after seventeen years, that it would be so easy for them to… to add romance to their relationship.”
Anne rested her head on Edward’s shoulder and sighed happily as she watched the snow swirling through the air outside. Her shawl had slipped off of her shoulder and she shivered, but Edward reached around her to fix her shawl and then rested his hand on her shoulder, his arm across her back.
She looked up at him, but he was staring out at the snow. “We have a very strange family, do we not?” Edward chuckled, and she was near enough to feel the deep rumble in his chest. She had not been held by a man in more than three years, and her heart felt as if it would burst open after being closed away for so long. “I love them all so dearly,” she sighed, wondering if she could be as brave as her daughter. “I love you, Edward.”
He wrapped his arm tighter around her and kissed the top of her head before resting his own head there, and staring out the window with her. “I know, Anne,” he breathed. “And I love you, too.”
Anne closed her eyes. She slipped her hand into the pocket of her gown, reaching for the handkerchief she had been carrying with her since Christmas, and, letting out a heavy exhale before drawing in a deep breath of absolute tranquility, she gently ran her thumb over the handkerchief, feeling the embroidery on the initials EG.
***
Elizabeth g
iggled and leaned back against Charlotte’s door after she closed it behind her. Charlotte was seated on her bed, nearly swallowed up by her blankets, with a candle lit on her end stand, waiting expectantly for her cousin’s return. “Well?”
Elizabeth stretched, and feigned a yawn. “I am so tired.”
Charlotte hurled a pillow at her. “Not so fast – tell me everything.”
Elizabeth smiled as she threw herself heavily down on the bed, causing Charlotte to bounce. “Well, we kissed passionately for half an hour.”
“Sounds like an excellent sort of conversation. Pray, did you do any actual speaking?”
“A little – but only as much as was necessary.”
“And?”
“He loves me!”
“Obviously.” Charlotte stuck out her tongue at Elizabeth.
“Indeed not! I was rather terrified, Charlotte.”
“And now you need only fear the wedding preparations – and Aunt Catherine!”
Elizabeth wiggled on her back as she laughed, and Charlotte nudged her playfully. “I am still not ready for all that – not yet at least. I did manage to tell William that I still need time. I know there is still so much we do not know about each other, but I should like to find it all out,” she said with a wicked laugh.
Charlotte hummed thoughtfully to herself. “What was it like?”
“The kiss?”
“Yes.”
“Mmm... wonderful. My whole body felt warm and I wanted to touch him and be touched, and....” Elizabeth suddenly stopped, feeling her face grow hot as she realized she could not possibly give voice to the rest of it.
Charlotte giggled. “Oh my.”
“Oh Charlotte, if only there were such a man for you!”
“Indeed! I daresay if there was, I should not be speaking of waiting for anything – or be speaking much at all,” she laughed.
“I cannot believe it! You are a romantic, Charlotte, and I never knew it!”
Charlotte’s face grew serious. “I should like romance as much as anyone, Lizzy, even though I know well enough to be practical. I may be older, but I am still a girl, and matters of the heart are more to me than just a jest over supper. I do not know why it should astonish anybody that I have not yet resigned myself to either cheerful spinsterhood, or a marriage of convenience.”