by Heather Moll
“Do you intend to return to Longbourn again before Netherfield is open?” She tried not to betray how impatient she was for an affirmative reply.
He smiled and replied he was eager to call again.
“Then you must bring your sister when you return! I think a household of five daughters sufficient to educate Georgiana on the wonderfulness of sisterly companionship, and she might take a liking to one of them. I have a surfeit of sisters, and she may take one back to London with her should she choose it!”
Mr. Darcy frowned and made no answer, and she was disheartened. Would he tolerate her younger sisters for her sake but not permit Georgiana to meet socially with them? She withdrew her hands from his arm and walked in quiet introspection. His manners may have improved, and he may have promised not to mention his former misgivings, but it all meant nothing should he shield Georgiana from her relations.
No matter the strength of her new affections for Mr. Darcy, she would not allow herself to be courted by a man who could not respect her family. Insufferable man!
***
Darcy was lost in thought as Elizabeth spoke of enjoying Georgiana’s company at Longbourn. He knew Georgiana to have bouts of melancholy and loneliness. She had been eager to throw herself away and threaten her family’s reputation by eloping with Wickham simply because he claimed to love her. Professions of love to an innocent, orphaned girl were a powerful incentive.
He would not allow for the possibility of her encountering Wickham. He might seek to ingratiate himself again, to say nothing of the distress it would cause her to even lay eyes on the scoundrel. Once the regiment was removed, it would be safe to bring Georgiana to Hertfordshire to further her acquaintance with Elizabeth.
Elizabeth had dropped his arm and was striding purposefully towards the house. He lengthened his gait to catch up with her. Darcy felt his heart being trampled underfoot with each step she took and did not know whether to proceed in silence or blatantly ask her why she suddenly avoided him. Nothing had prepared him for how to inquire about the innermost thoughts of a woman with whom he had no understanding and who now seemed disappointed by him. Ultimately he chose discretion, and they entered the house without a word.
Darcy judged that the meal might have gone worse, and other than Miss Mary’s inelegant solemnizing about female virtue, there was little said that would offend. Mrs. Bennet and Miss Lydia spoke of Brighton while Miss Catherine complained of her mistreatment. Miss Bennet engaged him in conversation, and had he not been preoccupied with Elizabeth’s silence, he might have made a better attempt to acquaint himself with the woman his closest friend was likely to marry.
The worst part of the visit, in Darcy’s opinion, was the conversation between Mr. Bennet and Elizabeth in the parlor after the meal. Before Mr. Bennet withdrew to the library, Elizabeth asked to speak with him, and they moved farther from the ladies but nearer to where Darcy was seated.
“I presume you want the next volume of The Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire, Lizzy, but you cannot read farther until you dissuade me from believing that Trajan was the greatest emperor. I am still not convinced Hadrian rivals him.”
“I do want to read it, and I shall argue you out of your opinion if I can, but now I want to talk about Lydia and Brighton.”
“I would prefer a debate about Rome from the only person in this house with an original thought in her head.”
Elizabeth lowered her voice and spoke to him in quiet but earnest tones. After laughing loudly and thereby attracting the attention of most of the room, Mr. Bennet said, “Lydia will never be easy till she has exposed herself in some public place or other, and we shall have no peace if she does not go to Brighton.”
Mrs. Bennet and Lydia appeared either not to hear Mr. Bennet or not to pay him any mind and carried on as raucously as before while Miss Mary was in another room plodding away on her instrument. Elizabeth whispered to her father again, and everyone heard Mr. Bennet’s loud and amused reply.
“You will not appear to less advantage for having several very silly younger sisters! Or a silly mother. Not that my little Lizzy has any interest in making a match and leaving her poor father all alone with them.”
“I fear for our respectability in the world by Lydia’s folly. Kitty will follow wherever Lydia leads, and my mother will support them both. Please do not let her go.”
“You had hoped to marry and leave your father’s house after all! I am glad it came to nothing. Has one of your sisters managed to frighten away your lovers? If that be so, then he who cannot bear to be connected with a little bit of absurdity is not worth your regret. Come, let me see the list!” Mr. Bennet’s eyes danced in amusement.
Darcy could not help but look at Elizabeth, nor could she avoid seeking him out. Her father removed himself, and Elizabeth stood dejected, all the while a ponderous melody came forth from the pianoforte. He would have thought that Elizabeth could find some humor in this. Her lively disposition was one of the things that endeared her to him. As he looked around him, he wondered what his sister would make of this family but decided there could be advantages on both sides.
He was assailed with a poignant realization; it struck him forcibly. Elizabeth had stopped speaking to him when she mentioned furthering Georgiana’s acquaintance with her sisters. Darcy was forced to acknowledge that he had been lost in his own thoughts and had not replied.
That is why her mood is so altered; she assumes I would not allow my sister to know hers!
Elizabeth sat as far away from him as the room allowed. A bitterness and fury fell over him that was devastatingly similar to what he felt after she refused his proposal in Hunsford. Was she so quick to judge that she did not consider that Wickham’s regiment was still encamped nearby and all that could mean for his sister? She continued to think the worst of him. And more insulting, she doubted his regret for abusing her relations and his attempts to act with greater civility. Insufferable woman!
Chapter 6
Elizabeth stood in the paddock apart from Mr. Darcy while he readied his horse. His motions were slow and deliberate, and she could not be sure whether he was simply fastidious or whether they were an occupation that allowed him to avoid her. They had not exchanged a word since their walk, but she regretted his leaving, however necessary it was. Elizabeth felt too heartbroken to be angry that she would have to let Mr. Darcy go after she had come to appreciate and admire him. He was a good man, but she could not marry anyone who did not feel that his sister and hers should be acquainted.
Mr. Darcy’s unyielding voice interrupted her reverie, his expression stern and serious as he mounted his horse.
“Your mother may be the silliest husband-hunting butterfly I have ever encountered. Your father is incorrigible regarding his breach of both marital obligation and decorum, and your youngest sisters remain idle and ridiculous. That being said, I respect all of them because they are your family. I desire to understand them better because of your love for them. I love you too well to allow their actions to deter me.
“I am wounded that you continue to doubt me. Could you not infer my reluctance to bring my sister to a small country town that is still quartering Mr. Wickham’s regiment?” Elizabeth only had time for a blush of surprise, still focusing on “I love you too well” and ashamed that she had hurt him again. “You persist in thinking the worst of me, and my dignity cannot handle your continued disparagement of my character.”
His lips parted, but he said nothing further. He abruptly turned his horse and rode away. She wanted to cry out to him not to leave, but he was already too far away for her voice to carry.
Elizabeth stood outside Longbourn, silently cursing her headstrong ways. He had every right to be angry, and she could not blame him for losing his patience. It frightened her to think how rapidly she had come to love him. Yes, those precious feelings that had been steadily building since she read
his letter could be nothing less than love. Her feelings had changed from real dislike to real love, and it wounded her self-respect to acknowledge how quickly her opinion had altered. It was easier to believe that Mr. Darcy remained arrogant and unkind than to believe she could find herself irrevocably in love.
Elizabeth had never been in love before and had never experienced such pure and elevating passion. Now, when she considered what she felt for Mr. Darcy, she was certain that she was as in love with him as he was with her. She had never been indifferent to him, even before his proposal. She was often frantic for news of him and talked about him at every opportunity. Although she had once spoken of him only to criticize, he was always near to her thoughts, and now that he had become dear to her, he was a constant presence in her mind and in her heart.
Not feeling equal to conversing with the others, she left the lawn for the seclusion of the trees and the privacy to sob.
***
Darcy rode his horse hard for a mile until he was out of sight of the village of Longbourn. He would be hard-pressed to maintain this pace, but he was furious and despondent and determined to put as many miles between them as quickly as possible. Darcy would have continued in this vein had his horse not been frightened by an animal darting out of the wood. The gentleman was not attending when his horse reared, and he was nearly thrown. “What the devil!”
Darcy dismounted and allowed the spirited horse to tramp its forelegs in protest of their near-accident. His attempt to remount made the animal rear again then bound away. Giving up for the moment, Darcy surveyed his surroundings and realized he was on a hill west of Netherfield. Darcy peeled off his gloves, tore off his hat, and raked his hand through his hair. He stormed and paced and, exhausted, leant against a tree with his arms crossed over his chest, glowering at the earth in front of his feet.
The vehemence of his emotion, stirred by grief and love, was claiming mastery over his self-discipline. She doubted his constancy, doubted his ready willingness to act with civility towards those outside his circle. He struggled for the power to rid his heart of Elizabeth Bennet and found it could not be done, not now that he had seen some hint of affection for him.
He had not intended to highlight her family’s foibles, rather illustrate that he would love them unconditionally because they were her family. He should have remained instead of allowing himself to be ruled by his temper. He ought to go back to apologize for his outburst, but how much more could his pride suffer?
She continues to believe I have a propensity to hate everybody! He resolved not to return to Longbourn today or next week. He might return with Bingley in June, but if Elizabeth had such little respect and regard for him, what did it matter?
Returning to Longbourn would be the nail in the coffin of his self-respect. He could not doubt that he was a better man for heeding her reproofs, but he had nothing left to give if Elizabeth chose to think the worst of him. He felt tempest-tossed and almost gave in to the desire to sink to the ground and hold his head in his hands.
“Devil take me!” he muttered to the trees.
***
Her tears had dried by the time she saw him leaning against a tree near the top of the hill. His hat was near his feet and his horse was nowhere to be seen. His wavy hair was appealingly disheveled and looked lighter in the afternoon sun. His forbidding countenance was focused intently on the ground. Despite his stern demeanor, Elizabeth found him striking. She recalled the strength of his arms when they danced, and she wished they were now wrapped around her.
Elizabeth stayed in the shadow of the trees and hoped her tread might not betray her presence. Remembering all the times Mr. Darcy followed her with his eyes, she allowed herself to indulge in the same activity. His form was as tall and noble as she remembered, but now he looked more hard-hearted than she had ever known him to be. Elizabeth knew she had hurt him, and she could only hope she had not lost him forever.
She heard him curse and knew she must approach him, but Mr. Darcy was so deep in thought he did not notice her. Elizabeth avoided his hat and was able to stand directly in front of him before he looked up, startled to find her so near. She gently laid her hands on his upper arms that were still crossed over his chest, tilted up her head, and lightly pressed her lips against his cheek. She pulled away to arm’s length but kept her hands softly touching him, feeling the fabric of his coat more so than the limbs underneath.
Mr. Darcy had done little to react to her presence other than raise his eyes from the ground. She felt shy of him, but he had already put forth all he could for her. She gathered her courage and drew on her love for him. “Please do not send me away.”
Mr. Darcy only stared, alternating his gaze among her hands, her lips, and her eyes, but he said nothing. Elizabeth, fearful of his resentment, began to ramble.
“I know you said your temper is too little yielding, resentful perhaps. I have been just as easily offended and unforgiving. What must I do for you to forget my folly? How can I earn your forgiveness?”
Still the gentleman did nothing but look on her with dark, fathomless eyes. Amazement, resentment, indignation? She knew not what he felt so she continued to speak, and became more hurried and anxious as he did nothing but stare. She dropped her hands from his arms and took a step away from him.
“I once said implacable resentment was your greatest fault, and a propensity to hate everybody your ultimate defect. I have long regretted my actions towards you, but never more so than I do at this moment. My self-respect has been challenged. You must see that! Not a month ago I hated you! And now my soul aches at the thought of separating from you. You were the arrogant man who disdained all who were close to me, who would not lower himself to dance with me, who separated my beloved sister from Mr. Bingley, and who willfully blasted the prospects of a man who flattered me.
“Can you not imagine my surprise to learn that, despite my efforts to provoke you, I had attracted your attentions? My love for you has come upon me so suddenly and so powerfully that I was frightened by its dominion over me! In a short time, you have come to mean very much to me, so much so that, when I envision my future, you feature prominently in every picture I imagine. When you did not answer me regarding our sisters’ association, it was an excuse for me to deny my affection for you. It was easier to believe that you remained conceited and callous than believe that I could so suddenly be completely in love with you.”
The trees and sky in her field of vision unexpectedly blurred past her. Elizabeth recalled a similar sensation when once, as a child, she trotted on horseback, and when the animal rushed forward, she fell to the ground. One moment the scenery was smoothly passing by, and the next, the world had turned sideways, and she felt the hard unyielding impact of the earth. This time she saw her environs glide past her but, instead of a crushing blow, she felt the warm pressure of Mr. Darcy’s lips against hers. He had uncrossed his arms and used them to pull her into his chest and kiss her.
Her eyelids fluttered closed when one of his hands wrapped around her waist and the other lightly traced along her cheek and jaw. Elizabeth was deliriously happy, and she gave in to the wondrous feeling of his lips lingering against hers. One of her arms wound its way around his waist beneath his coat while the other rose to rest on his shoulder. Mr. Darcy moaned against her lips as he pulled her tighter, so close that she could feel the pounding of his heart.
***
The moment Darcy sensed her relax into his embrace, he allowed himself to drown in the feel of her. The feel of her full lips on his and her hands touching him was exquisite. He indulged himself in the hope that Elizabeth might want him as desperately as he did her. All reserve was gone as his hand moved from her cheek and down her back to pull her closer. He would have continued in this vein had not the moan of desire that escaped her lips reminded him of their present location.
He had been caught unawares when she appea
red in front of him, and it was not until she begged his forgiveness that Darcy realized she had kissed his cheek. After he heard her words “my love for you,” he decided to ask her to be his wife as soon as she ceased speaking but, upon hearing her declaration of love a second time, he could not help but take her into his arms and kiss her soundly.
Darcy pulled his mouth away and rested his forehead against hers as he caught his breath. He was not capable of speech, but he held her close and bestowed kisses everywhere. Her hair, her eyes, her cheeks, her jaw, and her neck begged for his attentions, and they were received while she dreamily smiled. After such a sharing of pure intimacy, Darcy was unsure what to say. He longed to tell Elizabeth the value he felt for her, but as she gazed lovingly on him, he supposed she might already know.
“My purpose in riding to Longbourn today was to see you, to show you that I am properly humbled and do ardently love you, and that I shall do anything in my power to earn your love.”
“I am the happiest creature in the word if you would love me as I love you!”
“Tell me at once that you will consent to be my wife and I shall endeavor to love you as you deserve to be loved for the rest of my days.”
“Yes, you have my affection, my devotion, my love. Nothing would make me happier than to marry you.”
The happiness that this reply produced was such as he had never felt before. He wanted to claim her lips again, but felt that he would not be strong enough to stop once he had begun. She was far too tempting and there was much to be thought and felt and said.
“Why did you not say what was on your mind when I spoke of your sister’s visit?”
“You may add it to my list of defects. Though my tongue is often prompt enough with an answer, there are times when it fails me. I am unaccustomed to sharing my thoughts with anyone until I have made a decision. In almost all matters, I keep my own counsel.”