A Life Apart: A Darcy and Elizabeth Pride and Prejudice Variation

by Harriet Knowles

  “Yesterday, I asked you what you would think if I asked you to remain here, at Pemberley. I was dismayed when I saw you were fearful.” There was pain in his voice. “I cannot imagine there is something here which would frighten you enough to make you want to leave Pemberley.”

  Elizabeth’s throat tightened. She could never tell him. She turned away.

  Chapter 42

  He just had time to see the tears in her eyes before she had turned away from him, and his heart twisted in pain.

  He couldn’t help himself. He reached out and took her hand, turning her towards him again. Her gasp was in his ears, her scent was all around him, the touch of her skin was a flame of heat up his arm.

  He brought her hand to his lips. It took all the self-control he possessed to lower it again.

  “Elizabeth, tell me one thing. Why do you want this? Is it because you feel guilty for your parents’ actions, or because you find living at Pemberley with me too difficult?” He kept his eyes fixed on her face. He must divine the truth of her feelings.

  She looked down and shifted uncomfortably on the bench. “You have a life to live. I will not keep you from it.”

  He shook his head. “I do not think that is the real answer, Elizabeth,” he said as gently as he could. “Why do you want this, Elizabeth?”

  He waited — he would wait as long as it took to find out the real reason for what she said, and what she really wanted.

  Her voice was low. “I — I cannot answer.”

  He waited, but she didn’t say anything else. He shook his head despairingly. “Elizabeth, I hope this does not make things worse for you, but I must tell you how I feel. I ardently desire and love you. Please, will you relieve my suffering and consent to be truly my wife?” He knew his voice was hoarse. He knew he was opening himself to rejection and maybe even ridicule.

  His heart was hammering away. She must hear it. But she was looking up at him, her eyes wide with shock.

  “You do?”

  He smiled, knowing his smile was twisted. “I do.”

  His hand tightened around hers. “All I ask is that you allow me to hope that you can learn to love me. All I ask is that you permit me to stay with you wherever you wish to be. If — if you are afraid to stay here at Pemberley, then I will go wherever you feel safe.”

  She was looking down at her hand, captured in his grasp. He never wanted to let her go.

  Then she looked up at him, met his eyes. “It isn’t Pemberley, sir.”

  He thought his heart had stopped. It must be him. Something about him frightened her. He could not bear it.

  She withdrew her hand from his, stood up and walked away from him towards the edge of the stream. He must leave her with the freedom to think.

  He could not. He got up and followed her, standing as close as he dared. He remembered her in his arms in the crazily tipped-over coach, her heart beating against his chest like a trapped bird.

  Was he going to lose her? He couldn’t bear the thought.

  She turned towards him. “I want to explain, sir, but I confess I am cold. Might we go somewhere warm and private?”

  His smile seemed to be painful. “The hothouse? Or the small sitting room in the house?”

  Her lips curved up in response. “I — the one which is the shortest walk.” She gave him an arch look from under her eyelashes. “I cannot feel my toes.”

  “Elizabeth!” He was exasperated that she had not said so sooner, but his spirits were unaccountably raised by the lightening of her mood. Was she showing her confidence in him?

  He offered her his arm. “We will go back to the house. Then you will not need to go outdoors again.”

  “Thank you.” Her hand was making his arm pulse with her touch and he led her up the steps and around to the path by the bridge where the coach was waiting — and Mr. Reed.

  “Oh!” she said softly. “Thank you for thinking of me and arranging for this.”

  “It is a very cold day.” He tried to keep his mood as hers seemed. They must continue this conversation with the least interruption. He nodded briefly at Mr. Reed and assisted her into the coach. It was only a few minutes, but it saved her twenty minutes of walking.

  He hurried up the steps of the house with Elizabeth silent on his arm, only turning to speak to the steward as he jumped down from the back of the coach.

  “Make sure the fire is built up in the small sitting room, if you please, Mr. Reed.”

  His steward bowed and hurried on ahead. In the hall, there was a flurry of activity and Darcy waited with as much patience as he could muster as Elizabeth went up to her bedchamber with her maid to divest herself of her coat and hat. He took the opportunity of telling Mrs. Reynolds to send tea and a light meal to the small sitting room, too. After only a few minutes, he hurried upstairs and waited impatiently outside her apartments. How he wished he could just go in through the interconnecting door from his own chamber, and for a few seconds he considered it.

  Resigned, he shook his head. It would not do. But fortunately, she wasn’t long. She slipped through the door and smiled at him, sending his head spinning.

  He offered her his arm and they went downstairs to the room he knew she loved. He had to admit it was certainly more conducive to private conversation than the great formal rooms. The flames were leaping in the fireplace and he knew the small room would soon be uncomfortably warm, but he shut the door behind them and they were at last alone again.

  He would not be distracted. He led her over to the sofa by the fire and waited until she had seated herself, before he sat beside her. She looked slightly anxious, but also resigned.

  He was unable to stop his lips twitching and she glanced up at him.

  “I’m sorry.” She smiled openly. “But thank you for allowing us to get somewhere warm, even if you will not permit the conversation to be diverted. And I do not wish for that either.”

  He reached out for her hand. He wanted to touch her, needed it with every fibre of his being. His fear that it was something about himself that alarmed her was preventing him from taking her in his arms as he longed to do.

  He didn’t want to be left with only memories.

  Chapter 43

  His touch sent burning heat through her hand. He could not know how much pain it caused her, knowing she must leave him.

  She looked down at his hand, clasping hers. Would she have to go? Could she believe his declaration of love?

  It could not be. He could not love someone who was part of his downfall. It must merely be because they were trapped together here at Pemberley, and a passing desire of his. It was not fair to him.

  She looked up at him. “I said I wanted to explain, sir — and I do. I just don’t know how to begin.”

  He looked troubled. “You said it is not remaining at Pemberley that you fear. I am mortified that it is something about me that causes you such anxiety.” He had let go of her hand.

  Elizabeth gasped. “Oh, no!” She reached out towards him. “Mr. Darcy, I could never fear you. Never.” She looked down. She would have to tell him.

  “No, what I fear if our marriage continues, is your family.” She raised her eyes to his face. “We can never be together every moment, and I fear being carried off to an asylum.” She tried to stop her fingers twisting nervously.

  “When that doctor was here — I had to sit in that drawing room, knowing that your relative wanted the marriage annulled so much that he would do that — send a doctor all that way. I think it was because he knew that you — you weren’t here. No one could stop them taking me away.” She blinked hard, she didn’t want to show her emotion now.

  “If you hadn’t returned to Pemberley, if you had stayed in London and I at Pemberley, even just another day, I would have been incarcerated with no escape. Ever.” She shivered, remembering the fear and terror beating at her mind. Was that what going mad meant?

  She dropped her gaze again. “Unless the marriage is annulled, I will always be in danger from your fami
ly. Our marriage cannot continue.” She drew a deep, shaky breath. “And I’m so sorry that this time we have had together will have meant your feelings will now cause you pain when we part.”

  There were a few moments of silence.

  She looked up at his features, gathered in sorrow. She smiled tremulously. “I will feel it too, but I cannot regret it, I will always have my memories.”

  He took her hand in his, his finger tracing the back of it and along her fingers. Her heart was beating in her throat, so fast she could barely breathe.

  “If I am able to convince you that you’re absolutely safe from my family, Elizabeth, would your answer be different?” his voice was low, utterly seductive.

  She struggled to take a deep breath and, using every ounce of courage she possessed, she looked up at his face. “What is your wish, sir?”

  He smiled very slightly. “That you permit me to hope that you may, in time, return my feelings and learn to love me as much as I do you. And that you permit me to be with you, always.”

  She shook her head. “It is so hard to believe it, sir. I thought you could never love me because of what my family did to you.”

  He was closer to her now, his lean thigh pressed against her body, fuddling her senses. “You are very different from your family, Elizabeth. You have not sought any of my fortune for them, you have not …”

  “I would not ask! And, even if they asked you, I would not permit you to give them anything! How dare they?” Elizabeth felt a rising tide of shame for her relations yet again.

  His chuckle was warm and comforting. “As I said, you are so different from them. You have captured my heart, Elizabeth. I desire so much that you might soon return my affections.”

  “I must admit, sir, that when we were first married and you left me at Pemberley and returned to London, I was provoked by it. I thought if we were not together, then we could never work out our differences.” She looked down at his hand, clasping hers ever more tightly. “But since you have been here, I have indeed, quite lost my heart.”

  His sharply indrawn breath told her that he had understood her, and his hand lifted to her face, tipped it up to face him.

  “Dearest Elizabeth. Will you permit me to attend you in your chamber tonight?” The longing in his voice echoed that in her heart.

  She was happy she was sitting down, or her legs would not be supporting her. Elizabeth leaned against him. It would have been hard not to want to be held by him and not be married, she thought, bemused. But they were married, so it was all right. Her thoughts were all jumbled. He was just being honourable when he asked her consent to come to her that evening, for he could enter without her consent.

  But his arm was round her, and she felt his heart pounding against the fluttering of her own.

  “Elizabeth,” he muttered, his lips close to hers. “I need you so very much.”

  She felt unutterable contentment. Contentment that she had not felt for so very long, and she rested against him, relief allowing exhaustion to wash out of her.

  For long moments he held her against him, his body still and strong against hers.

  Finally, she sighed, and pushed herself upright. “I don’t suppose this is very proper.”

  He chuckled, and pulled her towards him again. “We have a lot of catching up to do — and we will not be disturbed.”

  She sat in silent contentment for more long moments, until she murmured and turned her face to him.

  “I must ask that we move, sir.”

  His arm tightened round her. “William. Please call me by my given name, or I will believe I am dreaming and all this cannot be true.”

  She searched his face. She had never thought his face could relax so much, his features were so different. She smiled.

  “William. Please might we move? I am finding such proximity rather … difficult.” She swallowed. She wanted him so much, and yet it was so long until they could be alone together in their bedchamber.

  He sighed. “I never want to let you go again, dearest Elizabeth. But I agree. We must wait a little while longer.” He rose to his feet and offered her his hand.

  She extended her hand and he bent over it, kissing the back of it, sending urgent longing cascading through her. “Mr. Darcy!”

  His eyes, warm and loving, supported her. His smile, understanding. “I love you so much, Elizabeth. I will not ask too much of you.”

  He squeezed her hand. “We must compose ourselves. Come, I have something I need to show you before lunch.” He assisted her to stand, and offered her his arm.

  “Perhaps after lunch, we might ride out in the carriage. It will help pass the time.”

  Elizabeth smiled, she knew her husband was as impatient as she to be finally alone together that night.

  “So, what is the something you wish to show me, William?”

  He tipped her face to his. “I will show you the letters I have, the evidence that my uncle and that so-called doctor were colluding on their plot regarding committal. This evidence would be enough to cause them much trouble were they ever to consider any such course of action against you again.” His smile was almost fierce. “I will call on my uncle. He will not be pleased.”

  Elizabeth stared at him. “If I can be assured of that, sir, I will feel most relieved.”

  “William,” he laughed. “I may need to remind you often, dearest Elizabeth.”

  Chapter 44

  The day had passed so very slowly. Elizabeth could not believe that the time had finally come to retire for the night. Her heart was hammering within her as she climbed the great curving staircase with her husband beside her.

  Suddenly the great ancestral portraits didn’t seem to be glaring down at her, but rather gazing approvingly. She hesitated and looked up at them. Her husband glanced over.

  She shook her head, and smiled. “It is the first time they haven’t been looking disapprovingly at me,” she told him. “Tonight, they seem to be content with my presence.”

  “I will have to speak to them very firmly in the morning,” he said. “They are not permitted to disapprove of my choice.”

  “Perhaps you had better refrain from it, sir.” Elizabeth felt almost as light-headed as he sounded. “I would not like anyone else to note such strange behaviour.”

  “Perhaps you are right, Elizabeth.” He was climbing the stairs right beside her, closer than he had ever been, and she was sure he must be able to hear the urgent beat of her heart.

  Then they were at her chamber door, and she hesitated.

  He smiled at her. “Don’t be anxious, Elizabeth. I will attend you shortly.” He lifted her hand to his lips briefly and turned for his own suite.

  For a second, she imagined how he would come to her, the thought of seeing him in a nightshirt, his collar open, sent her almost into faintness. She drew a deep, shaky breath and entered her chamber, where Emilie waited to assist her.

  It seemed a long time before she was alone again, standing at the window, holding the curtain open slightly. She had wrapped a shawl round her shoulders and her feet were bare. She stared out at the darkness of the park, her memory telling her what she would see if there was any light, trying to gain some peace from the tranquil beauty she knew was out there.

  There was a quiet knock on the door from the master’s suite and she turned to face it as it opened quietly.

  Her husband was there. He closed the door silently and crossed the room towards her. She could not draw her gaze from his face.

  Suddenly she was in his embrace and he groaned. “I have wanted to hold you for so long, Elizabeth. Promise me that you will be mine forever.”

  She could hardly breathe. “I cannot believe this is really happening to me.”

  He nuzzled into her shoulder and kissed her under her ear. “Let me help make it real.”

  Her legs were turning weak beneath her and she clutched at him, trembling. In an instant he had swept her up into his arms. The heat of his body against hers, the steady pounding
of his heart, and she knew she was where she’d longed to be.

  Gently he placed her on the bed, drawing the covers back over her. “I want to look at my beautiful wife so much — but I don’t want you to get cold.” He stood beside the bed and stripped off his robe before climbing in beside her.

  “I might have to get to know you by touch.” His voice was full of mingled laughter and passion and he groaned again. “My own Elizabeth, you don’t know how happy you have made me.”

  She could feel his mouth on her shoulder as he pushed aside her nightshift, and her senses inflamed.

  “Mr. Dar… er … William?” she gasped, and he lifted his head. In the flickering dimness from the dying fire, his features were dark with passion, his eyes hooded.

  “Yes, Elizabeth?” His murmur almost made her swoon.

  “I … please tell me what I should do, I do not know how to please you best.” She tried to control her breathing, tried to pretend a calm she did not feel, and he sank down beside her.

  His hands cupped her face. “Elizabeth, you please me most by being my own dearest Elizabeth. Do not be anxious, we have as much time as you want.”

  His lips touched hers, the breath of his murmur more than the sound. “I will be very gentle.”

  Her thoughts became a jumble within as the sensation of his hand as it trailed down her body and she knew only that she never wanted to leave his side again, never wanted to lose the expression of his love.

  She woke later, warm and comfortable, curled in his embrace. She moved slightly and glanced up at his face. The remaining light was very faint but she could see that his eyes were open and he was regarding her with amusement.

  “Oh, I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to go to sleep like that.”

  He chuckled. “It is all right, Elizabeth. You must sleep at night.”

  “But, are you comfortable? Have you slept, sir?”

  “William,” he reminded her, amused. “I am very comfortable, especially thinking that I can hold you in my arms every night now. And I am enjoying watching you relax in my arms.”