by Linda Wells
His soft voice broke the peaceful moment. “I have dreamed of this, Elizabeth, sitting here with the woman I loved.” He kissed her hair. “When I was a boy, perhaps ten years old, I escaped Rosings and went off wandering in this forest. Richard did not accompany us that year; he did not start coming until after my mother died.” He paused for a moment, awash in the memory. “I found my way to this place and was disappointed to hear the sound of voices when I approached. I looked and was surprised to find my parents sitting here on this bench, embraced much as we are now.” He looked down at Elizabeth’s upturned face and leaned, softly caressing her lips. “I saw how deeply they loved each other. It was not so obviously on display at home in front of me.” He looked as if he wanted to say more but did not. He closed his eyes as if blocking some great pain, then continued. “It was witnessing that exchange that made me determined to only marry for love. Of course, I knew my duties to honour our name, to increase the value of the estate, to marry and produce an heir, all of the common things of which you are no doubt aware, and believe me; those things were deeply and frequently impressed upon me. I imagine that at some point I resigned myself to following that dictate, fulfilling my duty, but deep down in my heart, I knew that I would rather live alone than marry without love, without the deepest love. The love that I saw displayed between my parents that spring day, here on this very bench.” He stroked her cheek. “This is why I waited to marry. I was hoping for you.” She was looking up at him, mesmerized. “So my love, I know that you fear facing your father, but you once told me that you wished to marry for love. Is that what you are doing by accepting me?”
“Yes, William.” She reached up to touch his face, and he captured her hand to kiss her fingers.
“I have been so impressed with your bravery for rejecting Mr. Collins. You had no idea what your future would hold, but you chose to follow your heart, to listen to its whisper, to wait. I am so grateful that you did. Please do not be afraid, my love. Together we will face your father and unlike my parents, our love will be easily seen. If he cannot accept it, then it is his loss, not yours.”
Elizabeth’s eyes were moist with emotion. He was slowly opening up to her, it was only right that she do the same for him. “You call me brave. Most would call me very foolish and selfish. I could have secured both my and my family’s future by sacrificing myself to Mr. Collins. If I had not met you, the truth is that upon my father’s death . . .” She stopped, and looked down at her hands. “I do not know what may have become of us. Of me.” Darcy embraced her tightly. Drawing away, she smiled slightly. “My parents do not have a loving marriage. I doubt that my father has kissed my mother for years, and he speaks only to ridicule her flighty behaviour. I sometimes wonder if her behaviour was caused by his.” She bit her lip then took his hands back into her grasp. “It was watching my parents that made me determined to marry for love, just as you watching your parents did the same. I suppose in some way, our parents did us both a great favour by unwittingly displaying their true natures to their children.”
Darcy looked down at their clasped hands. He was not ready to speak of his father yet, so as much as he wished to reply, he could not. Instead he gripped her hand tightly. Elizabeth could feel him holding back now. They had reversed positions.
“My father, whatever his motivation, whatever his true disposition, formed me by his instruction and by my observation of his behaviour. I do not know how he will respond to your approach, William; I can only hope that the man I once thought he was will prove to be the man he truly is.”
“I hope so as well.” He said softly. “I understand now your need to go and ask for his consent, even though his answer is not assured.” He embraced her, so thankful that she waited to find him. “I just do not understand how he can profess to care for you but not allow you to secure your future through a marriage you desire.” He stopped and closed his eyes. Darcy buried his face in her hair. She heard him whisper to himself. “No, not yet.” He was struggling with the decision to tell her about her brother, and to share with her his own painful past. He then lifted his head and looked into her eyes. “Elizabeth.” He said urgently, then crushed his lips to hers, stroking them, seeking reassurance from her response that he was no longer alone. Elizabeth felt his need and met his fervency with her own. He pulled her up onto his lap and they wrapped their arms around each other, exchanging kisses, learning how to express their passion. They pulled apart, breathing heavily. Elizabeth looked into his eyes, and saw them darken, burning with a fire that she now recognized as desire. He saw the same intensity in her face. Neither one of them wanted to stop, but they both knew that they must. With a groan of pure frustration he tucked her head onto his chest and kissed her hair, trying to regain control of his emotions and ardour. Elizabeth concentrated on his rapidly pounding heart, and as it slowed, she returned from the brink of total abandon. Eventually they sighed.
Darcy lifted her chin and kissed her gently. “We should return. The morning is advancing.” His eyes told her that leaving was the last thing he wanted.
“Yes, we must breakfast and prepare for church.” Her gaze answered his in every way.
He nodded and helped her off of his lap and onto her feet. He returned her bonnet and gloves and watched with affection as she adjusted them and smoothed her gown. They held hands and walked to the main path, and taking care to separate before they came into public view, returned to their respective homes, both dearly anticipating the day when their separation would forever end.
LATER THAT AFTERNOON, Darcy and Richard walked down to the parsonage to pay a call. Darcy informed Richard of their wedding plans, and he agreed that it was probably the best course of action, as unlikely as it was to be well-received by Mr. Bennet.
“What about Aunt Catherine?” He asked. “Have you decided when to tell her?”
“No, I will await your father’s advice, but I will tell her before we leave.”
They arrived at the parsonage and were announced. Lady Catherine had ignored the parsonage party at church that morning, so they had not yet been introduced. Elizabeth stepped up to do the honours and barely finished when her cousin interrupted.
Mr. Collins bowed to his toes. “My dear sirs, it is such an extraordinary honour to make the acquaintance of such illustrious relatives of my noble patroness Lady Catherine de Bourgh! The favour that you show on my humble dwelling cannot be compared to any other kind gesture given by such honoured visitors!” He took a deep breath as if to continue his incomprehensible babbling, and Richard, his eyes widening with increasing alarm, stopped him.
“We thank you for your kind words, sir.” Turning to Elizabeth, he cried, “Miss Elizabeth! It is a distinct pleasure to see you again! It has been far too long!” He quickly grabbed her elbow and moving her away to some chairs near a window engaged her in a conversation full of laughter.
Darcy watched with increasing unhappiness. Not only had his cousin left him with Mr. Collins, he was stealing away the attention of his Elizabeth! He did not like the way Richard smiled and laughed with her at all. He was feeling exceptionally possessive. It was with a start that he heard Charlotte’s quiet voice.
“May I offer you my sincere congratulations, Mr. Darcy? I have known Eliza since she was newborn and I have never seen her as happy as she was when she told me her news.”
Darcy smiled to the sincere woman. “Thank you, Mrs. Collins. I have never felt such joy before myself.” He relaxed a little, and while ignoring the endless effusions of Mr. Collins who took no notice of his missing audience, he spoke to Charlotte quietly. “Mrs. Collins, do you know Mr. Bennet?”
“I do, and Eliza has spoken to me of his objections.” She responded, keeping her voice low.
“She wishes for me to apply for his consent. Do you think that he will give it? Will he see that I wish only to care for her and love her?”
“I am afraid, sir, that Mr. Bennet is not thinking of Eliza.”
“Then you and I are in agreement, he
will be implacable.”
“I am afraid that you should be prepared for that situation, sir.” Charlotte met his gaze sincerely.
He nodded. “Thank you Mrs. Collins. I will do as Lizzy asks, but I will prepare the way for our immediate marriage. Could you please give me the name of the parson and the direction of his parish in Meryton?”
Charlotte discreetly left the room and came back with the information. Darcy decided to write to the man and reserve the church for a wedding the morning after their expected arrival at Longbourn. He would not give the names of the couple.
Elizabeth finally escaped Richard and rescued Darcy from Mr. Collins by suggesting a stroll in the garden. Charlotte convinced her husband to stay inside with her and Maria, and Darcy and Richard accompanied Elizabeth outside. “We have received an invitation to dine at Rosings on Thursday.”
“Aunt Catherine will be most displeased that she did not have the opportunity to introduce us.” Darcy smiled when she sighed.
Richard watched the couple becoming lost in their gaze. “I think that she will have more to be displeased about soon enough!”
Chapter 15
Bingley’s coach entered Meryton not long after noon on Saturday. He had stopped at the Gardiner home before he left town to bid a very heart-wrenching farewell to Jane and was already wondering if he would be strong enough to survive the fortnight apart from her.
He was surprised at the attention that his carriage drew as it entered the village. It was well-made, but certainly nothing to the carriages that Darcy owned, and unlike his friend, he enjoyed smiling and waving to the curious townspeople who tried to catch a glimpse of him. It seemed that he was already recognized as the mysterious Mr. Bingley.
Caroline chose not to make the journey, which was fine with him. He was rather looking forward to coming home to a quiet atmosphere for a change. He was full of enthusiasm, and wanted to immerse himself in the responsibilities of the estate. The owner’s steward was set to begin instructing him the next morning, beginning with a ride around the perimeter, and a thorough explanation of the crops and expected yields from each tenant.
There was one more duty to fulfil. Miss Bennet and the Gardiners had letters prepared for him to deliver to Longbourn. That much-appreciated favour would certainly earn him the approbation of the Bennet household; as they would not have to pay the postage for the letters delivered the normal way. It would also give him a convenient reintroduction to Mr. Bennet.
Sunday morning he of course attended church, and was instantly surrounded by the locals. He found that Sir William Lucas seemed to be the ringleader of the welcoming committee, and introduced him to the various heads of house that were present. When he bowed to Mr. Bennet, he informed him of the letters, and was invited to pay a call that afternoon.
“Mr. Bennet, I hope that your family is all well?” Bingley asked eagerly after they took their seats in Longbourn’s library.
He is harmless enough and seems to be financially secure, if Jane likes him, then I will support the engagement. Mr. Bennet leaned back in his chair and folded his hands across his stomach. “Well enough, sir. I understand that you have some letters for me?”
“Yes sir, I called at the Gardiner’s home before I left London, and they asked me to deliver these.” He drew out the much wrinkled envelopes.
“Thank you for your trouble.” Mr. Bennet cast an amused glance at the state of the missives. “I understand from my brother Gardiner and daughter that you have been a frequent and welcome visitor.” He noted Bingley’s delighted smile. “How was Jane when you saw her?”
Bingley’s eyes instantly acquired a dreamy expression. “Miss Bennet was wonderful . . . ahem, I mean, she was very well, sir, very well. She was a little lonely without Miss Elizabeth now that she has left for Kent, but she is looking forward to being reunited with her in a fortnight.” He straightened his shoulders and met the man’s gaze.
Mr. Bennet’s face reflected his sadness. “Yes, Lizzy is greatly missed by us all. Tell me, how well do you know Mr. Darcy?”
“I have known him nearly seven years, sir, a better man I could not name.”
“What are his habits with the ladies?”
“That is an easy answer sir, there are none; he has never courted a woman before Miss Elizabeth, and he has not escorted any particular lady to an event more than once. He rarely dances, but when he does, it is never the first, and will only dance one time. He does not visit brothels or keep a mistress. He is the epitome of honour.”
“A man with no vices? That is difficult to believe for one of such wealth.” Mr. Bennet scoffed.
Bingley wrinkled his brow. “If Mr. Darcy has a vice, sir, it is a tendency to hide away and read. He is not fond of social situations. He prefers to spend his time at home alone or with close friends, and caring for his sister. He is most diligent with his estate duties, and he is going to help me make a beginning at estate management by guiding and advising me with Netherfield.”
“A man without fault, then.” Mr. Bennet almost sneered.
Even Bingley could hear the insult in his voice, and he rose to defend his friend. “No man is completely without faults, sir, but hopefully his are not the type that will cause harm to others. He is truly a very good man.”
“Forgive me Mr. Bingley; I am concerned over his supposed fondness for my daughter, Elizabeth. I am just curious to learn the character of my daughter’s admirer, it is what a good father does, you know.”
Wondering at the reasons behind the man’s suspicions of Darcy’s motives, he cautiously agreed. “Of course, sir, I hope to find that out myself one day.”
Bingley left the house without seeing the rest of the Bennet ladies, although he could certainly hear them. He wondered how his Jane had grown up to be so quiet and reserved when living in the midst of such noise, and suddenly realized that he had answered his own question.
By the end of his first week, Bingley was entirely overwhelmed by the endless duties and details required of the Master of an estate, and was grateful he was only leasing. Netherfield was a fraction of the size of Pemberley, and his admiration for Darcy was growing by the hour.
He was also missing Jane. Their decision to take this time of separation to test if his feelings for her were genuine was proving to be unnecessary. The gnawing emptiness that he felt in his heart was something that no other woman would be able to fill. He could not wait to see her again. When a letter arrived from Caroline stating that she had learned, who knows how, that Darcy would be coming to Netherfield in a week’s time, and that she insisted that he come and escort her there immediately so that she could prepare the house for his visit, he was glad for the excuse to order his carriage and depart for London. What will Caroline do when she learns who her new neighbours are?
AFTER BINGLEY DEPARTED, Mr. Bennet sat staring at the closed door to his library deep in thought. He had spent time over the last month trying to find someone who had something negative to say about Darcy with no success. This visit from Bingley was just the latest proof that he was, in fact, a good man. That, which to any other father of a daughter involved in a courtship would ordinarily be most welcome, just made Mr. Bennet all the more agitated. How was he to convince Lizzy not to accept him if he had no proof of his unworthiness? He knew full well that his refusal to give consent would have no weight after her birthday and given her headstrong attitude, she would likely follow her own heart, and leave her home, and her father.
Suddenly a thought occurred to him. He remembered a conversation that he had with Jane. Yes! Darcy had a falling out with Wickham! Perhaps the story that Lizzy was told was incorrect, perhaps he caused the man some injury, and he did not hurt Darcy at all! Completely disregarding the fact that Wickham had attempted to seduce Elizabeth and was shown to leave numerous debts in Meryton, he left Longbourn to search out Colonel Forster and learn Wickham’s location. He would write to him and request his help.
SEVERAL DAYS LATER, George Wickham stood looking with
confusion at the letter in his hand. “Why would someone from Longbourn be writing to me?” Remembering his last visit, he unconsciously lowered his hand to protect his groin, before kicking himself for being a fool. He opened the letter and laughed. “So, Darcy is in love with the girl who kneed me. How rich! And her father disapproves! What a simpleton! To disapprove of Darcy! And he wants my help to break them apart.” Wickham smiled. This could prove to be very profitable. He could demand money from the father for his assistance, and perhaps demand a great deal more from Darcy to desist. “Yes, this could be a very profitable enterprise.” He was very disappointed when he did not succeed with Georgiana. Well, he thought, I had succeeded, but not in marrying her. He grinned and wondered if Darcy knew.
He wanted to hurt Darcy. All of those years, a lifetime of doting attention from Mr. Darcy, and suddenly it was taken away from him, just when the old man was ill, and he thought that a huge inheritance was in his future. Wickham even entertained the fantastic thought that Mr. Darcy would bypass his son and leave Pemberley to him. He was bitterly disappointed when he was left with one thousand pounds and the living as a parson. Darcy had to pay for that. The three thousand pounds that he wheedled out of him in exchange for the living was gone almost as soon as had it in his hands. That was when he set his sights on Georgiana, and Darcy arriving in time to prevent their marriage had left an even stronger desire for revenge in his jealous heart. Taking away Darcy’s choice for wife; or better yet, making him pay for the ability to marry her was right up his alley.
IF ELIZABETH HAD any regret for becoming engaged to William at Rosings it was solely her lack of interest in anything other than him. She was afraid that she was proving to be a very poor houseguest to her friend Charlotte. She apologized for her lack of attention, and Charlotte good naturedly assured her that she was providing plenty of amusement by wandering around the house with a dreamy look in her eyes.