Revelations

by Kirsten Bij't Vuur

  She had already closed the distance between them, and with kind concern helped him out of his very fashionable coat. It was so tight that he would have been hard put to remove it by himself, and it was impossible to put on really well by himself, he had to have a servant help him to do that. Of course Elizabeth was not used to helping a gentleman out of his unpractical coat, and she didn't know the trick, but she was clever and she soon had him in his shirtsleeves. A very flattering shirt, fortunately, less formal than those he usually wore in London, he packed to go hunting after all, and one he knew was very becoming on his tall frame, broadening his shoulders and

  accentuating his narrow waist.

  Elizabeth seemed rather taken by the sight of him, she was frozen to the spot, his heavy coat still on her arm. Darcy suddenly realised she must have those moments of wanting to touch him, too, and she was having one right now. But she didn't just suppress it without consideration, she was actually enjoying it, looking her fill of him, wait a minute, was she relishing his scent? He had been sweating like plowhorse in that abominable coat, a judgement on his pride no doubt for wanting to wear his most becoming coat even though he knew it might be too hot for the day, but she didn't seem put off by that at all, on the contrary, she took a step towards him and was clearly enjoying the smell of something. Maybe it was the autumn woods?

  'I'm glad you wore a woollen coat today, I've been wanting to see you without your coat, and it will still be so long before we're married. You smell just heavenly, I've never been this close to a man before you, well except my father of course.'

  And she was not leaving it at that, she was closing in even more, and embraced him, her face on his chest, like in his dream! He felt his own body freeze, his last defence, for the touch of her arms on his body and the feel of her face on his chest, her warm breath penetrating the fabric of his shirt, the smell of her hair and her body, they were making him mad with ardour, and he was seconds away from losing control and just grabbing her.

  Of course she noticed his reaction and looked up at him with mild surprise.

  'Is there a problem, Fitzwilliam, do you mind being touched?'

  He couldn't speak, he needed all his energy to regain his control, and when he finally managed he heard himself say, coolly, 'I don't really, you just took me by surprise, that's all. I'm not used to being touched by a lady, and certainly never this personally.'

  What part of him did that, answer her so unaffectedly? His body screamed for more, why didn't his mind stop her, beg her to wait?

  'You're not?'

  She was truly surprised.

  'I didn't expect that. So this will be your first kiss too, then?'

  Kiss? What kiss? She was on her toes now, arms firmly wrapped around his neck, and her lips touched his ever so softly. There was no use in fighting anymore, he couldn't do it, he had to give in, they were engaged to be

  married, one little kiss wouldn't do any harm. And he surrendered to her wishes just the tiniest bit and answered her kiss slowly, feeling her soft mouth against his, holding her slight shape close. And when she didn't break off their little kiss but made it larger instead, he tasted her as well, the rest of the world forgotten for a few moments, just the two of them, more intimate than either of them had ever been.

  When they broke off their first kiss for lack of breath, Darcy strangely enough felt a lot calmer, not totally heated and out of control as he feared.

  Elizabeth looked up at him with actual devotion, and at that moment, life had nothing better to offer him. He was perfectly content. Of course they repeated that kiss, and they stood together for a good ten minutes.

  Emboldened by Elizabeth's forwardness, Darcy dared to nuzzle her bare throat, causing her to shiver with feeling, and she opened up a few buttons of his shirt to bare his throat and do the same. He felt the same shiver.

  When they parted once more, with great reluctance on both sides, Darcy noticed that Elizabeth still had his coat over her arm, and he offered to take it from her, then took her hand in his. Together they climbed the path until the trees opened up and they could see the fabulous view over the rocky fields below, and the wooded hills in the distance.

  After sitting side by side in total silence for what seemed to be hours, hands still firmly clasped, they started to get hungry, it was time to turn back. At the edge of the wilderness, just before they re-entered habitation, Elizabeth helped him back into his coat rather deftly, and took the opportunity to kiss him passionately once more. He submitted to her intimacy, and again didn't feel heat rise up uncontrollably, giving him some faith in himself. As they walked back they resumed their conversation, and this time he told Elizabeth about Georgie's indignation at Miss Bingley's coldness and nastiness during Mrs Gardiner and Elizabeth's visit to Pemberley.

  'You know I never thought of it that way. Your sister is very gifted, Fitzwilliam, she must have great natural delicacy. I didn't know Miss Bingley any differently, so I just tried to ignore her, like I used to. But since I did care what you, and Georgiana, thought of me this time, it was indeed harder.'

  'I'm sorry to hear that, Elizabeth. When I called on you the next day I wanted to apologise to you on Georgie's behalf for Miss Bingley's behaviour, and assure you it would not happen again during dinner that

  evening. But of course that never came to be. I was devastated, I was so glad to see you again, and then we were pulled apart.'

  He could see she wanted to put a hand on his arm hearing the emotion in his last sentence, but she controlled herself, they were in the middle of the village after all, and merely said, 'That, too, is all in the past, Fitzwilliam, your efforts and determination were not in vain, please don't let memories pain you any longer.'

  'You are right,' Darcy replied, 'I have bigger worries. I'll have to face your father tonight. And should I survive we'll plan our wedding together, how splendid do you want it?'

  He smiled at his own question for he knew she would not want a big affair, she was not the kind to show off her catch. And now a bit of the real Elizabeth emerged, together with a cheeky smile.

  'I suppose we will have to keep it small, since my family is not large and yours will censure, slight and despise me.'

  She didn't seem to care at all, but still he asked, 'Do you mind?'

  'I don't, Fitzwilliam,' she replied, he hadn't expected anything different, and she added, 'I just want you.'

  With a sly smile she continued.

  'Do you suppose Miss Bingley will be strong enough to attend our wedding?

  It must come as a complete surprise to her.'

  'I'm afraid I may have given her a little hint of things to come, Elizabeth, after you left Georgie at Pemberley that afternoon. Miss Bingley said some really offensive things about you, causing me to lose my temper and I may have kind of told her I admired you. Not in those words exactly, but let's say that by the time we get married she will have had a few weeks longer to grow used to the idea. Too bad cousin Fitzwilliam has a very good taste in women, or she might move her attentions to him.'

  The very idea made him laugh, and Elizabeth showed him that her ready wit was returning.

  'But what will your aunt Catherine think of that? Miss Bingley is an heiress, but is her lineage good enough for a member of your family, even if he's just a second son?'

  With excellent humour Darcy replied, 'I'm sure that twenty thousand pounds would make a positive impression on my aunt, more than a sense of humour, superb intelligence and great sensibility. Of course that's just for a

  second son of her least favourite sibling. Had I loved Miss Bingley she would have reacted as aversely as she will now.'

  He hoped Elizabeth would feel the compliments, for he found himself still able to fall in love with her even deeper, the more he got to know her.

  That evening, dinner was fast losing its attraction for Darcy, and he asked himself why he had this apprehension of Mr Bennet. Bingley faced him easily enough. As he studied Elizabeth's father from across the table he
saw just a regular country gentleman, dressed well, with perfect table manners.

  What was it that frightened Darcy about this elderly, rather ordinary looking man? He sat at the head of his family and listened to the conversation around him. But he was not participating. And why would he be, to have a nice chat with his wife? Or his two younger daughters? What could they ever say that would be interesting for him to hear? Could it be that Mr Bennet had as much disdain for other people as Darcy himself used to have?

  Except that his disdain was not based on rank, but on intelligence? Was Darcy himself afraid of being judged on Mr Bennet's scale of interesting conversation, and found wanting? Not smart enough? Just another person never to be taken seriously, and to be laughed at openly? The way Elizabeth used to laugh at Darcy's weaknesses, especially that really funny one of considering himself to be without weaknesses. Was Darcy really that afraid to be laughed at?

  That couldn't be, or he wouldn't have chased Elizabeth for six months, he knew she was going to make fun of him whenever she could, as soon as she felt secure of his attachment. And he was looking forward to it, to fence with words again, to sharpen his wits to match hers. But Elizabeth was not as sarcastic as her father, she had always had her father and her sister to talk to. Her father must have spent years without ever hearing a sensible word spoken, knowing it was all his own fault for marrying the wrong woman.

  Until his eldest daughters grew up and gave him some relief from being constantly surrounded by silliness. And now Darcy was taking his favourite away from him. No, Bingley had had it easy compared to himself, Mr Bennet would undoubtedly unleash his wrath on him.

  He just could not conquer his apprehension, not even the thought of Elizabeth loving him could do that, but his ordeal would last only for half an hour at the very most, so he would get over it eventually. And the prize was worth it, for Elizabeth he would do worse things than talk to her father.

  Better get ready, Mr Bennet was getting up and leaving for his library.

  As soon as his beloved's father had closed the door, Darcy got up and followed him. Passing Elizabeth, he could not see much encouragement in her demeanour, she seemed as anxious as himself actually. But he was a grown man, and he had won the love he had already given up on, so he was going to do his duty as was expected of him. He knocked on the door and heard his host call out, 'What is it now? Come in then, if you must.'

  Darcy entered, not feeling very welcome, but as Mr Bennet discerned him, he sounded surprised and actually excused himself.

  'I beg your pardon for my discourtesy, Mr Darcy, I expected it to be some servant or my wife with complaints about something or other. Please do come in and have a seat in my haven of quiet. Will you have some coffee?'

  Accepting a cup of coffee, Darcy seated himself in a very comfortable but rather threadbare chair.

  'I suppose your library chairs don't look like they've been through several battles against the French, Mr Darcy, but please consider, these have been my friends for years, and one doesn't just discard one's friends, not I in any case. And they are very comfortable, aren't they?'

  Darcy couldn't help smiling, and he admitted, 'They are that, Mr Bennet, and a man's library is supposed to be the place where he not only keeps his books but also has his true home, with every right to furnish it as pleases him.'

  But now Mr Bennet came to the point rather frankly.

  'I didn't expect to ever have the pleasure of receiving you in my library, Mr Darcy, so please tell me what business brings you here, for I suppose you have business with me?'

  A bit disconcerted at being spoken to so curtly, Darcy just stated his business, as if this counted as such.

  'Mr Bennet, I have come to see you on an errand of great importance to me and your daughter Miss Elizabeth. Yesterday I have begged her to accept my hand in marriage, and she has seen fit to say yes, making me the happiest of men. I now want to ask you to give us your consent as well.'

  Well, Mr Bennet certainly didn't expect that. No sarcasm was forthcoming, just very obvious shock and a shade of fear. Fear? What did Elizabeth have to fear from him? He loved her to distraction. But Mr Bennet regained his composure quickly, and asked in a rather grave tone, 'Why would you want

  to marry Lizzy, Mr Darcy? She has no money, no connections, no fashionable manners.'

  Darcy could practically hear him add in his thoughts, 'and why in the world would Lizzy want to marry you?'

  But it was only up to Darcy to answer the question that was expressed to him, and he didn't hesitate.

  'I love her, Mr Bennet, and I don't care about those things anymore. Your daughter is the most intelligent, feeling woman I have ever met, and I thank providence she has found love for me in her own heart.'

  Now it seemed that Mr Bennet was quite impressed with Darcy's display of feeling, but still he pushed.

  'The very intelligence that you admire will make her question you always, and she will tell you frankly when she disagrees with anything you say or do. Her sharpness may offend you sometimes, or even your family and friends. Can you accept that from a woman, Mr Darcy? She may be smarter than you, you know.'

  Mr Bennet was seriously worried about his favourite daughter! Of course he believed that Darcy was a haughty, arrogant man who valued appearances over genuine feeling, and Darcy couldn't prove himself otherwise in one or two sentences. Elizabeth would be in danger of getting into serious trouble with the man Darcy seemed to be, and of course that was something Mr Bennet wanted to avoid at all costs. What could he do to convince Mr Bennet that he knew Elizabeth's 'weaknesses' and that to him they were her assets?

  'Mr Bennet, I understand your fears for your daughter. But please believe me that I know who she is and love her for it. I'll never fault her for questioning me, or making fun of me, or being smarter than me. I can't wait, actually.'

  And now the moment of truth had come, Mr Bennet looked Darcy in the eye with his most penetrating gaze, and it was very disconcerting indeed. But Darcy knew he was the right man for Elizabeth, and she was the right woman for him, so he managed to hold that gaze without trying to challenge his interrogator, Mr Bennet was only protecting his daughter after all, and Darcy had just realised how right he was to do so. Darcy's old self might not have accepted Elizabeth as she was.

  Long before his gaze turned into a contest of wills, or cruelty towards his

  son-in-law, Mr Bennet let go of Darcy's eyes and said, 'All right, I give you my consent to marry Elizabeth. You're the kind of man no-one would dare refuse anything he condescended to ask. But I can't say you're the man I thought she'd promise herself to. Still I must trust her decision.'

  And a bit warmer, 'Welcome to the family, my son. At least you know what you're getting into there, after two family dinners. Now, off you go, and please send Elizabeth in here for a moment.'

  And with that curt dismissal it was done. Though different from what he expected, the result of his interview was the same, Darcy felt wrung out and his legs were still shaking a little. What a character! He walked straight to Elizabeth, smiling to let her know his success and to encourage her for her own interrogation.

  After nearly an hour she came back and actually sat with him, that had to be a first, her father could not have gone easy on her, he must have talked to her as seriously as he talked to Darcy, but she seemed very much relieved.

  'My father was not pleased, Fitzwilliam, he tried to dissuade me at first, but I think I managed to convince him of your good qualities in the end. I think you're safe now.'

  She looked at him with infatuation, then added, 'From him. He did warn you against me, didn't he?'

  There she was, emerging once more, the girl who had held his heart for almost a year now, he felt himself go soft, he must look like some kind of sheep but it didn't matter, for she loved him, and tomorrow they would set a date for their wedding. He wished they could kiss again, unfortunately the little drawing-room was filled with people, but he saw Bingley holding Jane's hand, and tom
orrow Darcy would be so bold as to hold Elizabeth's hand as well.

  Chapter 10

  Of course Bingley and himself rode over again the next day, and from the first moment it was clear that something had changed. No longer did Darcy have to fight his way inside through the asphyxiating chill of Mrs Bennet's icy hospitality, instead he was welcomed heartily, with a generous compliment on his coat, a less fashionable one but still rather becoming, and a warm handshake. It appeared that Mrs Bennet had been informed of her daughter's engagement and she was eager to show her approval.

  His consciousness of Mrs Bennet's sudden acceptance of him probably having more to do with his fortune than his personality was not painful, he had as little affection for her as she had for him, and in a month or so their paths needed to cross very rarely anymore. But it was certainly much easier to be civil to a friendly person than to a frosty one, which would make Elizabeth's and his courtship that much more enjoyable. And fortunately Mrs Bennet's changed opinion of him did not cause to her claim his attention all the time, she clearly still favoured Bingley for that office.

  They did not walk out that day but rather found a secluded spot in the garden where they talked business mostly. Elizabeth agreed that a long courtship was not very desirable, with Darcy's sister in London and his estate even further away they would be separated often when he was away to do his duties, a situation neither liked very much. Therefore Darcy suggested that he would get a special licence, allowing them to marry within the month the law proscribed for an engagement to last. Since the time of the year meant a wedding outside was more or less out of the question, they decided to have the ceremony in London and stay there for the winter season, if Elizabeth could adapt to city life. When Darcy told her about Georgiana's hope to do without Mrs Annesley and stay with them for most of the time, Elizabeth wished very much to be of service to her new sister, and living in town all winter was ideal for Georgiana's budding aspirations

  to become the best piano player she could.