Chance Encounters

by Linda Wells

  She laughed. “I have a long wait ahead of me.”

  “When are you due?”

  “August, and we are not making an announcement until I feel the quickening, which probably will be in February.” She tilted her head. “How did you know?”

  “Ah, I have seen your mother in this condition many times, my dear, I know that look quite well.” He grimaced.

  “I notice that Mama continues to improve in her disposition and behaviour. I can almost say that it is a pleasure to have her here. What have you done?”

  “Something that I should have done a long time ago, I have given her the attention she deserves. It is not her fault we never had a son. And it is my fault that I let our marriage languish as it did. I am rather enjoying this second courtship we are having. Now if we could just marry off your other sisters . . . will there be any rich men to put in their way at this ball of yours tomorrow?”

  “Papa! You sound like Mama!” Elizabeth scolded him.

  After their emotional conversation, Elizabeth left the library to tend to her duties. Mr. Bennet was tempted to behave in his normal fashion, and hole up in that magnificent room, contemplate what she said, and simply hide from the world. But this time he knew that he must instead face judgment. Despite Elizabeth’s statement that Mr. Darcy wished to put the past behind them, it was clear that his son-in-law had not in any way forgiven him, and in fact was tolerating his presence at Pemberley as a concession to his wife. He knew that the only possibility of Mr. Darcy ever accepting him on any level would come after he was able to express his anger. Mr. Bennet decided that he must allow him to do so, and left the library, walking down the hall to accept his fate.

  In the billiards room, the men were gathered around the table. Mark was thoroughly routing Bingley and they were all in good spirits. At the end of the match they moved to depart, laughing and joking as they exited the room, each falling silent at the sight of Mr. Bennet standing outside of the door, his eyes fixed on Darcy. It was apparent that a confrontation was about to occur, and as much as the other men wished to stay and support Darcy, and listen in, they continued on their way. Mr. Bennet stepped forward. “Mr. Darcy, I have just concluded a lengthy conversation with Elizabeth, and I would like to hear your opinion of the matter, if you could give me some moments of your time.”

  Darcy’s face was impassive, but his eyes blazed instantly with his deep anger towards the man. He knew exactly what Elizabeth would say to her father. She had discussed it with him before he arrived. He nodded and stepped back, allowing Mr. Bennet to pass before him, and closed the door with a snap. “What do you wish to discuss, Mr. Bennet?”

  “Sir, my daughter has informed me that you are aware of the letter that I wrote to Wickham. She further informed me you made it clear that had you known of this at the time of the incident here at Pemberley, you would have ended our relationship permanently, and I would have never seen her again. She indicated that time had allowed you to soften your stance, and that you are willing to put the past behind you.” He paused, assessing the cold countenance of the man before him. “It is my opinion that your stance has not in any way softened, but that you have acquiesced to this course solely out of your love for Elizabeth. I am in no doubt that if you had your way, I would at this moment be lying dead next to Wickham. Am I correct, sir?”

  Darcy stared directly into his eyes, and unblinkingly said, “You are.”

  “Mr. Darcy. We are alone. Say and do what you must.” He drew a deep breath, stood straight, and waited.

  The tension in Darcy’s body radiated from him. It took all of his strength not to leap across the room and throttle the man before him. Instead he closed his eyes and gathered his thoughts. He then opened his new pocket watch, gazed at the image of Elizabeth it contained, and returned his gaze to Mr. Bennet. “Sir. The ONLY reason you are allowed at Pemberley is because Elizabeth wished for it. That woman is my life, without her . . .” He stopped and shook his head. “No, you do not deserve to know my feelings for her.” He closed his eyes and attempted to contain his fury. “Sir, I do not respect you, forgive you, or like you. In all honesty, I wish to cut off all contact with you and never see you again, but my wife, my precious wife . . .,” his voice softened and he gazed again upon her portrait, “. . . has asked me to tolerate you and treat you with civility.”

  He paused, looking into the beautiful sparkling eyes; and the memory of that horrible day and the sight of her bound and unmoving flashed before him. His anger rose and his voice again became harsh. “Your actions began . . . How could you, sir? How could you approach that cur? Do not tell me you could not have known what he was! He had attempted to harm Elizabeth months before we ever met! You KNEW what he was, and yet you petitioned him to be what . . . her companion? Her suitor? What were you thinking?! Did you think that Wickham would wish for a platonic friendship? Wickham would come only for money, revenge, or his own pleasure. YOU sir, are not unfamiliar with that practice!”

  Darcy began pacing, valiantly trying to regain control of his emotions, and failed. He spun around and stopped to face her father. “How could you profess to love Elizabeth and subject her to that? I reject your claim of not knowing his truth. Perhaps it makes you feel better, perhaps it helps Elizabeth to accept that the man she loves as her father made a mistake, but I will never allow sentiment to cloud my opinion of you, sir. Never.” His enraged black eyes bore into Mr. Bennet, who remained standing, but only barely so. Darcy regained control of his breathing, and the volume of his voice lowered. His tone lost its heat, but was now even more frightening with its cold delivery. “I tolerate you for my Elizabeth. Never expect more from me.” He looked again at her portrait and silently apologized, but knew that he needed to purge this from him. He felt completely drained, as if an enormous cancer had been cut from his body.

  Mr. Bennet swallowed, feeling whipped from the assault of words, and fully aware that a lesser man would have beaten him soundly. “Mr. Darcy, I realize there is nothing I can say to excuse my behaviour, and I do not deserve your mercy. Shall I remove my family from your home?”

  Darcy stared at him, it was clear the man was tenuously holding on to his composure. The devastation and guilt that he saw displayed served both to justify his beliefs and disgust him with their truth. He looked again to Elizabeth’s face, and feeling her love, calmed. “No sir. You may stay. I will not separate Elizabeth from her family.”

  “Thank you.” Mr. Bennet bowed and gratefully left the room. As he left he saw Elizabeth standing outside of the door, where she had listened to all. Her eyes were fixed on her husband. She walked past her father and entered, closing the door behind her. She stood unnoticed before William, who was still staring down at her portrait, and startled him with her embrace. He was still trembling with the expression of his fury.

  He clutched her tightly. “Forgive me Elizabeth. I needed to confront him.” He kissed her forehead. “Do you understand?”

  She pulled back and studied his pained face. “I do understand, William. I have been trying to move past it, and forgive him. He is my father. I had to try. You had no such requirement, and you are not blinded by affection. You could see clearly where I could not. You have no need for my forgiveness, you have done nothing wrong. Your feelings are just.” She gently caressed his hair, still looking up into his now brown eyes. “I heard everything that you said, and am hurt to know that it was all so very true. I realize now that you needed to confront him before you could ever consider moving beyond this pain.”

  He nodded and rested his face in her hair, drawing strength from her embrace. “You know me so well, my love. Thank you for understanding and allowing me to have and express my feelings. I do feel relieved of a great burden now.” He kissed her. “I love you.”

  She stroked his face. “That, my Will, is obvious. I love you.”

  ALTHOUGH THE OTHER GENTLEMEN of Pemberley would have wished to speak to Darcy about his conversation with Mr. Bennet, it was abundantly clear that the i
ssue would remain private. It was Bingley who had directed Elizabeth to the billiards room, and he worriedly watched the couple when they returned to the company. Darcy and Elizabeth remained inseparable for the remainder of the day, only parting upon the division of the sexes after dinner. When Darcy stiffly offered Mr. Bennet a drink and he quietly accepted; the men knew that a silent truce had been offered and signed.

  That night, after the much-needed release achieved from making love, they lay tightly entwined and Elizabeth told William about her conversation with her father. He held her and listened, proud of her for presenting her feelings without hesitation. She had learned not to shy away from difficult conversations just to preserve the appearance of peace. He reluctantly accepted her desire to continue the attempt at reconciliation. Confronting the man himself had finally given him the ability to choose to move on. He realized that only Elizabeth could have such power over him to even consider such a decision.

  “So, my love, it seems that I am to be courted by your father, now?” Resigned, he laughed softly and kissed her hair. “Will he bring me flowers?”

  “William!” She pinched his bottom, then rubbed it tenderly after his cry, and hugged him tighter. “Perhaps you could show him some special books in your library, as a peace offering.”

  He was unwilling. “I think perhaps he is the one who should be making such gestures.”

  “Maybe you could let him call you by your name?” She suggested tentatively.

  “I do not know if we are on such terms yet, Lizzy. I think that I need to be courted a bit more first.” He kissed her nose, but his face was very serious.

  She stroked his brow, feeling his tension. “You want him to work for it.”

  “I do. I think I have made enough concessions. Do you mind?”

  “No, not at all, I told him it was between the two of you now. I will not interfere for either side.” She smiled.

  Darcy relaxed, knowing she would not push him. The corners of his mouth lifted. “Perhaps a fencing exercise would settle it.”

  “You would skewer him, I am afraid.”

  “Target practice?”

  “He would likely shoot his foot by mistake.”

  Darcy thought. “A horse race!”

  Elizabeth laughed. “And he would break his neck and Mr. Collins would throw Mama from Longbourn and send her to live here! No sir, no! Please, no!”

  Darcy laughed quietly. “I agree, please, no!” He hugged his wife and caressed her belly. He sighed. “Well, I suppose we will simply have to give civility a try.”

  Elizabeth looked up into his soft brown eyes. “You are always a gentleman.”

  “Always for you, my love.” They snuggled down into the pillows and slept.

  Chapter 38

  The morning of the ball Elizabeth was walking alone through the house, mentally checking off all of the items that had to be addressed before their guests arrived in, she glanced at her watch and sighed, ten hours. Her eyes closed, she had never been so nervous in her life. The house was bustling with servants going about their duties, and she felt as if everything was happening around her in a blur. The sound of men’s voices and the eerie sound of steel on steel caught her attention, and she found herself standing before the partially open door to William’s fencing room. She had been there many times before, enjoying watching her husband go through his training exercises, and occasionally practicing with Mr. Regar’s son. This time when she peeked in the door, all of the male guests except her father were present, and there was William, but this time, he was shirtless, as was his opponent, Richard. None of the men noticed her. As a woman, she knew that she had no business seeing men in such a state of undress, but she could not tear her eyes away from her husband. His beautifully toned body glistened with perspiration, and moved with grace and finesse; his eyes were wholly focused on Richard. The expression on his face, his intense gaze, his skilled movements, made Elizabeth’s breath catch, and the only thing she could think about at that moment was how much she wanted him to overpower her the way he was thoroughly outwitting his cousin.

  She trembled and felt warm in her desire for him. “Oh, what a man I have married!”

  Out of the corner of his eye, Richard spotted her leaning against the doorway, one hand on her heart, the other clutching tightly the fabric of her skirt. The look of desire in her face threw him completely and Darcy’s next parry caught him unprepared. He suddenly found himself with empty hands and saw his foil landing with a soft clang across the room. He looked up to Darcy’s widely grinning face amid the catcalls from Bingley and the sounds of consolation from his father and brother.

  Darcy came over to shake his hand. “What happened there Richard, it was as if you forgot we were fencing?” Richard glanced at the doorway, and before he could reply, Darcy’s eyes followed Richard’s direction and he saw Elizabeth standing there, still entranced, and clearly to every man there, quite undone. Darcy at first smiled at her, then thinking for a moment looked sharply at Richard, who caught his gaze and hurriedly turned away to pull on his shirt. Bingley threw Darcy his own shirt, which he quickly put on and strode over to his wife.

  “Elizabeth, what are you doing here?” He whispered, taking her hand and leading her into the hall.

  She came out of her appreciative haze and blinked. “I was just walking by and heard you . . . Oh William, you are so very handsome!”

  He blushed, and taking her hand he led her into an unoccupied sitting room and closed the door. “Elizabeth, do you have any idea how fetching you looked, standing in the doorway watching me?” He kissed her. “If we had been alone, and I saw you with such desire in your eyes, I am afraid that we would be quite occupied at this moment.”

  She wrapped her arms around him, not at all put off by the now wet shirt clinging to his very warm body. “Could we not be occupied now? I believe that we are quite alone.” Looking up at him, she lifted a hand to pull his head down to her lips, and kissed him passionately.

  “Lizzy, are you seducing me?” He groaned. Her hands moved to unbutton his equally damp breeches, and soon slipped inside to pull out his own blade.

  She pushed him against a wall and seeing a very thick book, dropped it on the floor and stood upon it. She pulled his sodden shirt over his head and rubbed her hands over his chest. He was still taller than she, but at least now she could reach his lips. She said nothing as she began kissing him with the wantonness of a harlot. Her hands were all over him and he moaned. “You are seducing me!” His breath was coming in rapid gasps, and he felt one of her hands wrap firmly around his stiffened organ. He grasped her to him, and kissed her deeply. “Lizzy, oh, God, Lizzy, what do you want of me?”.

  “I want you to enjoy yourself.” She whispered then kicking the book aside she slid down to her knees and began suckling him, moving her head in a steady motion, swirling her tongue around him ceaselessly, all the while running her hands over him with the sensuous light touch that always left him breathless and wanting more. His hands clenched into tight fists and he moaned and struggled to stay upright, the wall behind him his only salvation. Staring down to her beautiful face, he watched her soft lips taking him in and out, and saw her hair come loose from its binding, spilling over her shoulders. Moving faster and faster, she felt him begin to tense, then slowed, making the excruciating tension last until with a cry, he let go and spilled into her mouth. He watched with hazy eyes as his beloved swallowed his essence, and then slowly withdrew, still gently licking off every drop.

  She stood to wrap her arms around his boneless body, holding him until he could breathe calmly again. Darcy kissed her head and she looked up and smiled at him. “Did you enjoy yourself, my love?”

  “Oh, Lord, yes, Lizzy.” He moaned, and kissed her very swollen lips. He touched them gently. “What did I do to inspire that? Please tell me so that I can repeat it!”

  Elizabeth laughed softly and kissed him again. “I do not know. I have seen you fence, but never without your shirt before, you wer
e just so beautiful . . . I suppose I just wanted to show you my appreciation.”

  He chuckled, and took a deep breath. “Anytime you wish to express your appreciation, my love, please, do not hesitate.” He looked into her dancing eyes, and said very seriously, “Anytime.”

  She laughed, and took his hand. “I will keep that in mind, Will.” She leaned down and picked up his discarded shirt as he readjusted his breeches.

  After slipping it back on they held hands and kissed. “I think that you deserve a proper thank you.”

  She kissed him as they walked to the door, “After the ball.”

  He stopped to caress her face as she repinned her hair. “If we are awake.”

  She laughed. “Shall we say when we wake tomorrow?”

  He nodded and they kissed one more time and stepped out of the room. Elizabeth returned to her duties, seeking out Mrs. Reynolds. Darcy went upstairs to wash and change into clean clothes. On the way he ran across Mark and Bingley, who pulled him aside to demand where he had gone. He grinned and said nothing, and started on his way back up the steps.

  Mark called after him, “I should let you know, Darcy, the walls of the sitting room are not quite as thick as those of the bedchambers.” Darcy stopped for a moment, turned red, and without turning back continued on his way up the stairs, feeling not as embarrassed as he let on.

  AFTER DARCY DISAPPEARED from the fencing room with Elizabeth, Richard stood in a corner fixing his clothes and listening to the soft laughter of the other men at the expense of their relative and friend. He wished he could join in, but he was overcome by the look of absolute desire on Elizabeth’s face, and the undeniable love she felt for Darcy that was clear as day. He bent his head, wrestling again with the overwhelming feelings he had for her. He had worked so hard over the past months since he was last at Pemberley, concentrating on Kathleen. He sighed. Kathleen. He loved her. He knew it, and he knew that he needed her desperately. What was wrong with him? Why could he not give his entire heart to the woman he had pledged to care for all the days of his life, and who had solemnly declared the same of him? He saw that look Darcy gave him. His cousin knew exactly what he was thinking when he stared at Elizabeth. But was not every other man in the room thinking the same? Would all of them not give their eye teeth to have their wives stare at them in such a wanton manner?