“Miss Bennet,” he called, his voice a little stiffer than he intended.
Elizabeth, all too aware of the effect his presence was having on her, briefly glanced over her shoulder at him and then turned back to pull Mr Beresford’s book from the shelf. She let it fall open at a random page and feigned reading it.
That single glance was all the invitation Darcy needed, and he crossed the room in three strides. Now so close, she could feel his warm breath on the nape of her neck; it was almost a caress in itself.
“Elizabeth,” he whispered.
Taking the book from her hands, he dropped it onto the desk and then gently turned her to face him. She was unable to meet his scrutiny for fear of betraying her anticipation of his next action.
Darcy tilted her chin up and waited for her to meet his gaze. When her eyes remained downcast, he again whispered,
“Elizabeth.”
Slowly raising her lashes, she saw the smouldering desire that burnt in his eyes. Her innocent glance fuelled his desire, and finally, he could wait no more. Drawing her into his arms, he kissed her with a passion that left Elizabeth in no doubt as to how much he had missed her. He had meant the kiss to be chaste, to remind her of his love, but her welcoming response had inflamed him.
Surprised by the intensity of her own longing, shivers of pleasure seeped through her every fibre as they explored the delights of each other’s mouth.
Darcy withdrew and began to trace a line of kisses along her jaw, then dipped down to the small hollow, where her neck merged with her shoulder.
Lost in the emotions he aroused, Elizabeth unconsciously pulled him closer, enjoying the firmness of his strong arms as they enfolded her. Willingly, she tilted her head to one side that he might access her sensitive skin more easily, revelling in the delicious sensations it brought forth.
He’d never experienced such desire, such longing, for any woman. Everything about her was intoxicating to him, and though a strong man, he had never felt more helpless in his life.
“Oh dear, sweet, Elizabeth how I have missed you.”
His mouth sought hers again, plundering its depths until she totally surrendered, and a soft moan escaped her. Encouraged by her willingness, Darcy let his hand slide down to lightly caress her back through the muslin of her gown, and her soft, slender form perfectly moulded to his. He raised a hand to cup her cheek, and as he did so, Elizabeth turned to place a kiss on his palm.
As she bathed in his ministrations, her body flooded with a yearning, for what she knew not, but the pleasure his touch brought forth was devastating. Elizabeth felt adrift at each touch he bestowed, and she tried to savour every sensation his hands produced.
He continued to caress her, his thumb circling her hip bone delivering a pulsing in the pit of her stomach, and just when she thought she must surely swoon, his muscular arms tightened around her. As she tilted her head back and moistened her lips, a single word escaped her.
“Fitzwilliam.”
This simple utterance drove his desire to near breaking point, and he took possession of her mouth with a hunger he could not hide. As she tried to match his ardour, she naively probed his mouth with her tongue. For a few seconds, Darcy revelled in the sensation her touch brought forth before tearing his mouth away to hoarsely plead,
“For mercy’s sake, Elizabeth, tell me to stop.”
But Elizabeth did not want him to stop; the sensations that were travelling through her veins as he kissed and caressed her felt like her blood was on fire. The warmth it created was essential to her being and should not be denied. But somewhere in the recesses of her mind, she heard his desperate plea. So before her resolve weakened, and she was once more immersed in the pleasure of his touch, she gently pushed his body from hers and turned back to the bookcase.
They stood in silence for a few moments as both tried to compose themselves. Darcy rested his hands on the books either side of Elizabeth’s shoulders, and as he hung his head, she could again feel his warm breath on the nape of her neck.
At length, he straightened and spoke.
“Forgive me, Elizabeth, I never meant for it to go that far,” he paused, and when she remained silent, he added “I am usually master of my emotions, but where you are concerned I have no self-control, just being alone with you …” his words trail off.
More composed now, Elizabeth realised she too was at fault, and she could not be angry with him. Once Darcy had taken her in his arms, she had longed for his touch, his kiss. Truthfully, she enjoyed the hunger she saw in his face whenever he looked at her, his dark eyes smouldering with desire, his breath coming in ragged bursts. To know that someone found her so desirable, they could hardly contain themselves was quite satisfying, in its own way. She wondered if her countenance had taken on a similar hue, and she blushed anew.
Knowing they must return shortly, and Darcy had yet to read some of the book, she turned to face him and said,
“Well, Mr Darcy, ’tis a good thing we are soon to be wed, is it not?”
Elizabeth realised they must return to join the others, so to lighten the mood, she smiled brightly and spoke in a playful tone.
“Now, you have to at least read a few pages of Mr Beresford’s book for Papa. I believe he observes humour in everyday disappointments,” and she picked up the volume from where it had fallen.
“I can think of a few that will not be in here, Miss Elizabeth,” he said, referring to the misery of unfulfilled yearnings.
Grateful that they were content with each other, he perched on the edge of the desk, opened the book, and began to read.
CHAPTER 7
Darcy had been awake for some time. He wanted to go for an early morning ride before Charles came down, for he would then be obliged to join him for breakfast. In truth, Darcy was quietly enjoying recalling the events of last evening. The look of surprise on the faces of the Bennet family, when he had walked in with Bingley in tow, was a picture. The sudden change of attitude towards him by the mistress of the house, he found especially amusing. One-minute professing to ‘hate the very sight of him,’ and the next he was ‘so charming, so handsome, so tall …’ At least she had shown enough restraint to withhold from saying what she really thought, which was ‘so rich’. But, foremost in his mind, was the time he had spent in Mr Bennet’s book room with Elizabeth. Dearest Elizabeth, to think he once refused to dance with her, citing her as not handsome enough to tempt him. Last evening, when he held her in his arms, her face all aglow with passion and promise, he regretted he had ever uttered such a slight. He had not meant it even then, he had actually thought she was very pretty, but Charles had irritated him with his constant badgering to join in the dancing.
Again, his thoughts returned to their encounter, and he felt the stirring of his memories in a more material form.
Deciding he was mooning about like a lovesick schoolboy, he tried to divert his thoughts. Instead, he recalled his confrontation and subsequent confession with Bingley. He had been shocked at his friend’s reaction, but what had he said that was not deserved.
As usual, Charles was pleased that his distinguished friend had come to call and welcomed him with enthusiasm.
“Darcy, how good to see you. Are you well? When did you get back from Kent? I hope you found your aunt in good health,” he said with a bow.
“I am in excellent health, thank you, Charles, as is my aunt. Although she did express her surprise to see me visit her estate for a second time in one year. I arrived last night,” and Darcy returned his salute.
“And you came straight to see me. Highly unusual, Darcy, is all truly well?” Bingley asked with genuine concern.
“Well, yes and no, to be honest, Charles. I need to talk to you privately, are your sisters still abed, or abroad?” he enquired.
“Neither, well what I mean is that Caroline has spent the last weeks staying with Louisa and Hurst. She said I was not fit company to be around. I concede I have been in the doldrums of late, but I can find nothing to d
ivert my attention in town. Then to top it all you went off to Kent again,” Bingley said reproachfully.
“Well, maybe I can help there. Charles, I need to confess something to you.”
Darcy looked at his young friend and indicated for him to take a seat, which he duly did.
Bingley’s brow furrowed with curiosity as his eyes followed Darcy’s wandering frame.
Finally, coming to stand a few feet from his friend, Darcy stopped, took up his usual stance and said,
“Last November, I advised you to sever all ties in Hertfordshire, both in property and romantically. My impression was that Miss Bennet did not return your affection. Mistakenly, I assumed she was merely enjoying the attention of a wealthy young man.”
“I say, Darcy, that’s a bit mercenary, I do not think Jane …” Bingley started, but Darcy cut him short with a raise of his hand.
“Charles, please, let me finish ’tis difficult enough. I thought her countenance too serene, and she smiled too much. Indeed, the smile she bestowed on you was freely given to all; therefore, I concluded she did not return your sentiment. I have since learnt that she does, in fact, hold you in the utmost regard, and would have responded positively, had you made her an offer. Also,” seeing Bingley about to speak, Darcy continued quickly, “I have to confess one other thing. After we returned to town, Miss Bennet also journeyed to London, where she stayed with her family in Cheapside. I believe she was there for some three months. A few days after her arrival, she paid a call on your sisters. I regret to say, on my advice, they discouraged her interest in you and then severed the acquaintance.”
As he spoke, Darcy heard how bad his confession sounded; indeed, he felt disgusted at his own actions. Expelling a hearty sigh, he continued,
“If you are of a mind to end our friendship after what you have heard, I could not blame you. My interference in your affairs may have stripped you of a chance of happiness, and with a woman you care deeply for. I have maligned Miss Bennet’s character most unjustly. I am deeply ashamed and profoundly sorry for my actions. Though in my defence, you must remember Charles, I thought I was acting in your best interest.”
Bingley’s face had turned a dark shade of red, and his jaw and lips were clenched tight, making him seem about to explode.
And that was just what he did.
Getting to his feet, he glared at Darcy and roared,
“How dare you, Darcy. I have a mind to throw you out on your ear. Do you know what your meddling has cost me, DO YOU?” he reiterated in a louder voice. “Not only have you condemned me to months of misery, and desolation, but you have also consigned Miss Bennet to the same. She will have been open to the derision of society, for disappointed hopes after my marked attention did not bring forth an offer, an offer that you talked me out of making. You implied Miss Bennet to be a fortune hunter. Well, I don’t give a damn; I have more than enough money for both of us. If society wants to think I brought her regard, we will live without society. I would rather that than live without Jane. And you say Caroline and Louisa were part of this subterfuge?” he asked sharply.
“They were,” Darcy replied quietly.
“Well, fear not, they will also know the full extent of my displeasure. And I will thank you to mind your own business in future.”
Bingley rose and went to leave, but as he neared the door, he stopped, a thought had struck him. Without turning, he curtly asked of Darcy,
“How do you know she would have accepted my offer?”
Taking a deep breath, Darcy knew he must reveal that Elizabeth was his source.
“I have it on the best authority, Charles, her sister Elizabeth told me. In fact, she gave me much the same tongue lashing as you have.”
“When Darcy, when did she tell you this?” Bingley asked with unmasked irritation as he turned to glare at Darcy.
“In Kent, while she was staying with Mrs Collins. Charles, I know you are incensed at my actions, but if you come and sit down, I will tell you everything. You may even take pity on me when you hear the irony of my story.”
Seeing the indecision on his friend’s face, Darcy entreated,
“Please, Charles.”
Reluctantly, Charles came and sat down again, but remained upright and rigid while glaring expectantly at his former mentor.
Darcy took the seat beside his friend and began his narration.
On hearing of Elizabeth’s brutal refusal, Bingley could not stay mad at Darcy. Especially once he knew the particulars. Also, knowing that he had ridden to London, with the express purpose of reuniting him with his beloved Jane, softened his rage. He was still angry, but knowing for sure that Jane returned his love, was the potion he needed to restore his zest for life.
Darcy was pleased to see his friend’s good humour return.
Bingley had hardly slept all night. As the autumn rays peaked over the horizon and danced on the window panes at Netherfield, he decided to get up. After completing his ablutions, he selected his attire with care. After all, he had two very important addresses to make this morning.
On finding himself quite alone in the breakfast room, he began to rehearse the speech he had devised while unable to sleep. He wanted it to convey the depth of his feelings, but with eloquence, and sincerity. He knew that on occasion, the words ran from his mouth in a jumble, making no sense at all, but this was one time he must be articulate. Aware that Darcy was also an early riser, he hoped he would soon join him, and offer an opinion.
“Miss Bennet, Jane. Since our first meeting at the Meryton Assembly, you cannot have failed to notice my particular attention in seeking you out.”
He paused to repeat this opening line in his head, and then continued aloud,
“During the many months we have spent apart, my regard for you has not wavered, and I have come to believe you return my sentiment still. I have long realised that my future happiness lies with you. Simply put, my dearest Jane, I love you most fervently, and would beg that you put a forlorn bachelor out of his misery, and consent to be my wife.”
He spun round as he heard the sound of slow applause coming from the door behind him. There he found Darcy, lolling against the door frame, eyeing him with amusement.
“Really Darcy, ’tis not polite to creep up on a fellow like that,” he reprimanded.
“Besides, I only intend to do this once, so it had best be perfect, don’t you agree?” he asked, now seeking his approval.
“Do not fret so Charles, it was a perfectly pretty speech, and I have no doubt that Miss Bennet will be most happy to receive it,” Darcy said, trying to alleviate some of his friend’s fears.
Knowing he would now have to forego his morning ride, Darcy entered the breakfast room and joined Charles.
“You think she will still accept me then?” he asked, unable to keep the hope, from shining through in his voice.
“Remember, I have it on the most reliable authority, the lady is as enamoured with you, as you are with her.”
“Really Darcy,” Charles exclaimed.
Darcy had hoped to leave it there, but clearly his friend was in need of further reassurance. He had hoped to put all this behind them and move on. Every time he recalled the pain he had caused his friend and Elizabeth’s sister, he was once more filled with remorse. And so, he would indulge Charles yet again.
“Yes, do you not recall my words of yesterday? You have no fears in that regard, for it was Miss Elizabeth who told me of the depth of Miss Bennet’s feelings for you. I am convinced I will be wishing you happy before the first course is finished. Though goodness knows what she sees in a flame-haired young buck like you,” he said playfully, a glint in his eye.
Bingley ignored Darcy’s unflattering characterisation and continued,
“So, my address is decided; Now how to deliver it? Should I take her hand and make my offer standing up, face to face, or do you think she would prefer if I go down on one knee? I believe the ladies like that sort of thing, do they not?” he asked.
Darcy was in no mood to discuss the mechanics of a proposal. It reminded him of how woefully inadequate his own had been. He decided a speedy conclusion to the conversation was necessary and replied impatiently,
“Dashed if I know man; take stock of the situation on your arrival and then deliver it appropriately. If she is seated, it is best not to tower over her, don’t you think?”
“Yes, quite so, I had not thought of that.”
Charles knew his friend was becoming irate, but still, he pressed on.
“I value your advice and insight Darcy; you are better versed than I. Why, twas less than a week past that you offered for Miss Elizabeth, was it not?”
Beware, Bingley, Darcy thought, that is one route we will not be travelling, today or any day.
If you but knew what a wretched occurrence that was, you would not be seeking guidance from me. I, who succeeded in pointing out all the reasons why we were not a good match, yet still I expected Elizabeth to accept me. As he recalled his words, he shuddered; Elizabeth had every right to feel insulted and affronted by his address. He had not used sweet words of endearment to entice her. No, he had bluntly informed her, in deciding to make her an offer, he had chosen below his station, in both his and society’s eyes. With swagger, he had told her that he had managed to overcome his aversion to her appalling family, could disregard her lack of fortune and connections, solely in the pursuit of his own happiness. Dear God, what an arrogant ass he had been. He had assumed that any female he declared an interest in would be so honoured by his attentions that she would accept him without hesitation, to be grateful even.
Shamed by his own words, he felt the colour rise to his cheeks.
“I said what do you think Darcy?”
Realising that Bingley was asking his advice, wearily he rubbed his brow and turned his attention back to his friend.
“Sorry Charles, I was wool gathering. What was your question?”
“My attire man, is it suitable for the occasion? I say, Darcy, are you quite well? You’ve gone the most peculiar colour?”
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