“Tempt me no more, my love, for I am only flesh and blood.”
The void her absent body left was like a chasm, and he could not bear to be parted from her. Unrepentantly, he cradled her in his arms once more, placing soft kisses on her brow until they were once more composed.
Elizabeth was grateful to him for putting an end to their encounter. She was unaware that such a burning passion and desire could be felt by a woman. All sense of decorum and propriety had fled as she had enjoyed his caresses. The longing that afflicted her entire body pulsed through her veins, and yet it was not enough. When he had touched her breast, the exquisite sensation that radiated along every fibre in her body had made her dizzy with pleasure. If he could arouse such feelings in her with a few brief kisses and caresses, how would their wedding night unfold? Elizabeth mortified that she could so easily lose her senses while in Darcy’s arms, then let such thoughts enter her head, and blushed crimson. It was past time they concluded this encounter and humour seemed the best method of escape.
“Mr Darcy,” she said, still breathless, “I trust our farewell will keep you fortified while you are away.”
He knew she was teasing, and in an amused tone he replied,
“Miss. Bennet, be assured, my thirst for you will never be quenched.”
They shared one last chaste kiss before parting. Darcy waited for her to signal from her window that her absence had gone undiscovered and then he walked Nelson to the gate before mounting him. Their encounter had been beyond enjoyable, but foolish. His excuse that he was a red-blooded male, with needs and desires, was not good enough. His resolve to be more circumspect when in Elizabeth’s company seemed to evaporate into thin air whenever he was alone with her. As he led Nelson along the track, he berated himself for being weak in both mind and body, a condition that was alien to him. He must stop taking these liberties and behave as a gentleman should. He had only to be master of his own resolve for another month, and then … yes, then life would be as sweet as it could be.
CHAPTER 12
Elizabeth watched the large black horse carry its master out of sight before pulling his letter from its hiding place. She wondered what it could contain for him to risk so much. She twisted her chair closer to the candlelight, tucking her feet up to keep them warm. Turning the letter over in her hands, Elizabeth detected the aroma of sandalwood and pepper radiating from it. Gently, she ran her fingers over the Darcy seal; soon it would grace her correspondence too. Carefully, she broke the wax fastening and unfolded the letter, noting the bold, yet well-designed script in neatly conformed lines. It read,
My Dearest Elizabeth,
This morning, after we had parted, I reflected on what …
Elizabeth was shocked at the letter’s contents. As she read it for the second time, a myriad of emotions coursed through her. She was angry and disgusted that Georgiana had been subjected to such a plan, to be used as a pawn by Wickham to exact his revenge on Darcy, and for a wrong that did not exist! That his accomplice was a woman, one of her own sex, was a double betrayal. No wonder Darcy had not apprised others of the details of their estrangement, his sister’s good name, her reputation, would have been in tatters before she was even ‘out.' It was now clear to Elizabeth that from the onset of their acquaintance George Wickham had knowingly lied to her and her family, drawing them into his web of deceit. The thought that she once imagined herself in love with him now disgusted her. But was she not guilty of complacency in forming her opinion of Darcy? Indeed, she had relished the tales Wickham fed her, confirming her ill opinion of Darcy. Verily, if she had not felt slighted by Darcy’s refusal to dance with her that first night in Meryton, would she have been so ready to believe those lies? She had welcomed and compounded Wickham’s false testimony to justify her own form of revenge on Darcy, by maligning his character to her sister Jane. Although in her defence, she had not known they were lies until now.
It was abundantly clear to her that the only person to have acted with decorum and honour was Darcy. When she thought of how she had refused his proposal, citing his ill-treatment of Wickham as part of the reason, she was mortified. And now, at her insistence, he’d had to recall and recount the deeds that pained him the most. She was aware that Darcy was an intensely private man, who guarded his family with a fierce, and impenetrable protectiveness at all times. How could she face him again after the revelations he had been compelled to share with her tonight? If only she had not pressed him so relentlessly.
Elizabeth woke early the next morning. She wrapped a shawl around her shoulders and crept barefooted along the corridor to her sister’s bedroom. Tapping gently on the door, she listened for a reply. When none was forthcoming, she quietly called to her,
“Jane, are you awake, it’s Lizzie?”
“Lizzie?” her sister asked sleepily, “Have I overslept?”
Elizabeth opened the door and softly padded to her sister's bedside. After putting the candle on the side, she pulled back the covers and slipped neatly in beside her. It was warm and inviting, where Jane had been under the covers, trying to ward off the morning chill. She tucked the blanket around her cold feet and then turned to answer Jane’s question.
“No Jane ’tis a little after six,” Elizabeth assured her, “but I must speak with you before we go down this morning. I have a letter I want you to read but must ask that you do not divulge the contents to a living soul.”
Immediately Jane sat up, a worried frown on her brow. “Lizzie, what is it, you have me most concerned now, is it bad news? Is it from Mama or … oh no, is it from Mr Bingley …?”
“Jane!” Elizabeth cried, cutting her sister off mid-sentence.
“It is a private correspondence from Mr Darcy to me; I would have you read it and advise me. I find myself in a quandary as to what action to take.”
Jane took the letter and gave her sister a bewildered look. Twisting to let the candlelight illuminate the paper, she began to read. Elizabeth watched as Jane scanned the pages. On reaching the end, she opened her eyes wide in shock.
“Oh Lizzie, how we have been deceived; is it true? But it must be true, for I cannot believe Mr Darcy would slander his own sister. How regrettable that Mr Wickham used his friendship with Mr Darcy’s sister to cause hurt and resentment. He always seemed so very pleasant and affable.”
Elizabeth looked at her sister. Jane had not seen past the contents of the letter as she had, reluctantly she would have to point it out to her.
“You are quite right Jane,” Elizabeth said patiently, “while Mr Wickham appears to be all goodness and Mr Darcy does not, it is quite the opposite. No dearest, what we now have to be concerned with is, do we tell Papa? Might he want to warn Mama and our sisters to avoid Mr Wickham’s company or maybe even bid them return home? They are due to stay there another seven nights yet. Do you not see Jane; we must be concerned for Lydia and Kitty now. Papa is right, they are two very silly girls, and I fear insincere compliments may easily turn their heads. Do you think they are safe in the society of Col. Forster and his wife while Wickham is near?”
Jane briefly glanced back at the letter, and after a few moments contemplation, she said,
“I am sure after observing Mr Wickham these past months, he must have seen the error of his ways and has decided to conform. In his dealing with you Lizzie, he has acted within the boundaries set by society, has he not? No, the girls have both Mama, and Col. Forster to watch over them. I do not think Papa would have given his consent if he thought anything improper might occur. What do you think dearest?”
“Yes, Mr Wickham has acted the perfect gentleman whenever we have shared each other’s company. I only hope Mama will be watchful and hopefully curtail Lydia’s enthusiasm a little. Besides, they have no fortune and very few contacts, which seem paramount to Wickham in his quest for matrimony. So we are agreed to say nothing to Papa then?” Jane nodded.
Kissing her sister on the cheek, Elizabeth slipped from Jane’s warm bed and went back to her own room.
With so many tasks to be completed before the wedding, Elizabeth was grateful for the arrangements her mother had completed before leaving for Brighton.
Reverend Muir had been consulted, and the church booked. The hymns were chosen and the bell ringers retained. Due to the growing number of guests, Mr Bingley had offered the use of Netherfield house and grounds, which Mrs Bennet had gratefully accepted. She had then proceeded to thank him profusely saying, ‘to have the use of such a property with a separate ballroom will mean our guests can dine at their leisure while the dancing continues.’ Elizabeth agreed it was a generous offer indeed.
The cooks at Netherfield had been preparing a variety of dishes for Jane and Elizabeth to sample, much to the amusement of Mr Bennet. They had even brought some samples home for him to try, much to the chagrin of Mrs Hill. Everything was coming together perfectly, and if Elizabeth were honest, she felt a little bored. With Darcy away and only her father and Jane in residence, time was passing too slowly. Could she be missing Darcy?
Later that day, a courier arrived from Brighton with a number of packages from her mother. Jane and Elizabeth opened them excitedly; they were delighted to find some gowns, hats, and several reticles for each of them while another contained fans, gloves and undergarments. Mrs Bennet had even included extra material for the cobbler to make matching footwear. Finally, in the last parcel, they found a letter from Mrs Bennet.
Dear Jane and Lizzie,
I have no time to waste writing letters really, yet feel I must give you instructions, even though it is from afar. You must make haste and try on all these garments. Check that they fit and look well. Comfort is secondary. If they are in need of alteration, I have arranged for the Roberts sisters to be at your disposal. You may discard only the turbans if you feel so inclined; truthfully I detest them, for they remind me of Caroline Bingley, all plumes and vinegar.
Is it not fortunate that your Aunt and Uncle Gardiner are here? They came to escort the shipment of the new fabrics for their warehouse in Cheapside? It is from their stock I have selected the materials for your gowns. I hope you are as delighted as I am with the selection I have made, and at a discount too. Mr Gardiner has agreed to keep the material back until after your nuptials, that way everyone will be looking at you with envy. Although my dear Jane, they would have to go very far to find a girl as pretty as you.
Now, I trust you are both doing all you can, to encourage the affections of your betrothed, especially you Lizzie.
Pass on my regards and affections to Mr Bennet (though I doubt he has poked his nose out of his study to notice I am gone).
Your sisters send their love; though they are far too busy enjoying themselves to write.
Your affectionate mother,
Mrs Fanny Bennet.
Elizabeth read the note aloud and smiled when Jane rolled her eyes at the mention of their fiancés. Both expected and ignored the reproof aimed at Elizabeth in regards to Mr Darcy. Happy to have something more to occupy their time, they both rushed upstairs with Hill and Cissy following close behind.
CHAPTER 13
Darcy’s journey to his Derbyshire estate had taken only two days. He had elected to ride through the night, much to the irritation of Fletcher. If he tarried too long, it would add another day to his journey and another day away from Elizabeth. Truthfully, he was eager to see his sister and spend some time at Pemberley, but at the moment, Hertfordshire held a jewel far more appealing.
Glancing over at Fletcher, an easy smile creased Darcy’s face. Fletcher’s head was rolling from side to side, mimicking the rhythm of the carriage. Every so often, he would struggle to open his eyes, but the lack of a comfortable bed and a good night’s sleep meant fatigue had won the day. Darcy was less fortunate and had managed to sleep only a little. He had so many questions and concerns that his mind would not be still long enough for slumber. What would Georgiana’s reaction be to his news? Would she be happy for him? Would she like Elizabeth? Had Elizabeth read his letter, and if so, had it been enough to banish Wickham’s lies? Maybe it would soften her heart in his favour, even a little? Looking over at the sleeping Fletcher, Darcy envied him his simple life. His only duty was to cater for Darcy’s needs and to ensure his comfort. In return, Fletcher enjoyed a comfortable home, a generous wage, and three meals a day, although he might disagree with that statement today. Darcy was aware Fletcher enjoyed a certain status below stairs, but he was well liked by the other servants too. It was a shame he had no son to follow in his footsteps, but he did not seem unhappy with his bachelor status.
They had been on Pemberley ground for more than an hour before nearing the house, and Darcy looked out of the window expectantly. They emerged from the forest that had been planted by his great-grandfather, and Pemberley came into view. A wave of happiness washed over him as he looked down at his ancestral home.
An impressively large stone building that was situated on the high ground amidst a natural valley. To the rear of the house were the formal gardens and a pretty meadow area. This then led to a large wooded area that was home to a well-established deer herd. While to the front, it boasted an impressive expanse of lawns and a lake. Slowly they descended the hill and then crossed the bridge that traversed the lake. The driver pulled the horses to a stop, and a footman jumped down to open the door for his master.
Mr and Mrs Reynolds stepped forward to greet Mr Darcy.
“Welcome home sir, we were not expecting you until tomorrow,” said Mr Reynolds with a bow.
“Thank you, it is good to be home,” he said, acknowledging their welcome, “we travelled through the night. All is well. Mrs Reynolds? Where is my sister?”
“All is as it should be sir. Miss Georgiana is waiting for you in the sitting room,” she said with a small curtsy and a big smile.
“Tell her I will take tea with her in thirty minutes. Oh, and Reynolds,” he said as he walked up the front steps, “Rouse Fletcher, will you. When he has regained his wits, send him to me directly, thank you.”
Darcy almost made it across the atrium and to the foot of the stairs, before he heard, rather than saw, the approaching dog. He spun round just in time to be greeted by two large paws, which came to rest on his chest. Trafalgar attempted to smother his face with a very long and very wet tongue.
“So, monster, you have found me. Have you been behaving yourself?” Darcy said in a stern, yet playful voice. Then he bent down and whispered close to his ear, “Have you been watching over all that is dear to us, my trusted friend?”
Eventually, he pushed the animal down and scratched behind his ears. Trafalgar showed his appreciation by the thunderous wagging of his tail. After several minutes, Darcy straightened and began to make his way up the stairs. With a single click of his fingers, Trafalgar fell into step beside him.
Normally, Darcy would have gone directly to see Georgiana, but after wearing the same clothes for two days, he was in no fit state to be received. He would bathe fully before dinner, but for now, a quick wash and change of clothes would suffice. Trafalgar sat before the fire enjoying its warmth, trailing his master with adoring eyes.
Darcy tried to struggle out of his tailcoat and cursed the latest fashion for wearing them so snug. Suddenly he felt the expert hands of Fletcher tugging at the cuffs, and miraculously the accursed article then slipped off with ease. Turning so Fletcher could unbutton his waistcoat, Darcy noticed his bloodshot eyes. Fletcher was a good man, but no longer a young man. Although nothing, or at least very little, stopped him from voicing his opinion. Thankfully, Darcy knew when such a moment was coming, for he precluded it with, “Well, begging your pardon, sir,” or “I am sure I know my place … but,” Darcy smiled. He knew one day he would have to find a replacement, but hopefully not for many years yet.
“I see the hound wasted no time in seeking you out sir.” Fletcher gave the now sleeping dog a scowl. It was not that Fletcher disliked the dog, but through necessity, they had come to an understanding. As long as Trafalgar did not s
teal, or chew up the master’s boots, Fletcher would not chase him out of Darcy’s rooms. They had struck an accord.
“Yes, the monster came upon me before I had even climbed the first step,” Darcy confirmed, “I will take a bath before dinner Fletcher, and then wear my easy jacket and black trousers to dine. I will not need you after that.”
He hoped Fletcher would use the opportunity to catch up on his rest.
“Thank you, sir,” Fletcher replied, his weariness evident in his voice.
Darcy’s long strides made short work of the reception area, and after turning the ornate handle, he entered the sitting room. It was lofty in height, but a well-proportioned room suitably furnished to the fortune of its owner. Nothing gaudy, but decorated with tasteful elegance in lemon and cream. His eyes went straight to the young woman sitting on the blue and yellow divan.
He called her name,
“Georgiana.”
Forgetting that she intended to show him how much she had matured since he had last seen her, Georgiana rushed into his outstretched arms and held him tightly.
“Oh, William, it is good to see you, I have missed you so much,” she cried.
“I have missed you too, dearest. Are you well?”
“Oh yes, I am very well thank you, Brother. We did not expect you until the morning, but I am so glad you have come home early.”
She lifted her face to look at him. Unshed tears glistened in her eyes, and Darcy wished he had not left her alone for so long. Placing a kiss upon her forehead, he resolved to be more attentive in the future.
Mr Darcy's Struggle Page 9