“You may choose, Mr. Darcy.”
As they rode off, Darcy pulled on Ceres’s lead line to bring Elizabeth beside him.“I am sorry for last night,” he offered.“I never told anyone, not even Georgiana, about the whole bloody mess in which I find myself.” He did not turn to look at her, and Elizabeth found herself fascinated by how the haughty Mr. Darcy had returned. “I plead for your discretion—not for myself, but for Georgiana, and for the people who call Pemberley home.”
“You do not need to ask. Even if what we had these few days ended this very moment, I would not disclose your secret. Besides, I am involved, too. Fitzwilliam, you have to know that.” Her voice demanded his agreement.
“Of course, I know.” He turned finally to look at her.“I would not have told you if I thought otherwise.” His eyes rested on her, as if he tried to memorize her features. “How many more days do you expect to be at Netherfield?”
“More than likely two—possibly three—but Jane seems determined to return to Longbourn by Sunday.”
“What have you told her about us?”
Elizabeth pulled gently on the horse’s reins to maneuver around a fallen tree. Darcy thought it nearly impossible that only yesterday she had first sat on a saddle. She would make him a perfect partner; No. He must be stern with himself.
“I said nothing; she thinks you accompanied me on my morning walks about the estate.”
They fell silent until the house came into sight. “I rode over earlier with the swords. I assume you still wish to learn something about the weapons. I started to light a fire, but I feared someone might see the smoke and come to investigate.”
“We will be moving around; that should keep us warm,” she said, trying to brighten their spirits.
Darcy pulled up the horses. He dismounted and came to help her down.“Go on in. I will put the horses out of sight in the lean-to.” Elizabeth headed to the door.“Do not touch the swords until I get there,” he called out in an attempt at playfulness.
“What will happen to me if I do, Mr. Darcy?” she retorted.
“Do not toy with me, Miss Elizabeth.” He did not look her way, but Elizabeth was sure he smiled—the first sign of affection from him that day.
When he entered the house, she was in the game room. At one time, a billiard table probably filled the space, but now it was quite empty. “This room seemed the best suited for our purpose,” she said as he walked briskly into the room.
“So what will it be? A lesson in self-defense?”
She corrected him,“A lesson in self-esteem, Mr. Darcy.”
He raised a quizzical eyebrow. “Self-esteem, Miss Elizabeth? That is not something that you lack.” He strode to her side.
“Ah, you are mistaken, Mr. Darcy. In my household, Jane is the beautiful one. Mary is the talented one. Kitty is the creative one. And Lydia? She is my mother’s darling. I am simply Elizabeth, superior in no way to any of them. Quite the contrary.What I have to recommend me—if indeed it could be called a recommendation—is a quick wit and a biting tongue.At least, now I will have a skill no one else in my family possesses; I will truly be the eccentric, but it will be something.”
“What rot, Elizabeth! I wish you could see yourself through my
Elizabeth broke the kiss, burying her face into his chest. “Fitzwilliam, this all frightens me.”
“May I assume you do not mean the swords?”
She clung to him more tightly and made a peculiar noise—half laugh, half sob.“The swords are what I fear the least.”
“Fate brought us to the same place at the same time. We will figure it out together, Elizabeth. Somehow or other, we will—we must.”They remained locked in their embrace for several minutes. “Maybe we should start the lesson,” he said gently. “It will distract us—possibly even dissipate the gloom we brought with us today.”
Elizabeth nodded and moved away from him, picking up one of the rapiers lying on a small end table. “My goodness! I never expected them to weigh so much!” She playfully swished it through the air.“What am I supposed to say? En garde?”
Darcy chuckled. “Most swords weigh between 2 and 3 stone.” He picked up the matching rapier.“Let us try some basic thrusts and parries.Then I will show you a few different attacks and defenses.”
He set her in the proper position, moving behind her to adjust her feet and shoulders. Each adjustment led to a kiss on the back of her neck or behind her ear. On the fifth such adjustment, she turned her head quickly and caught him full on the mouth.Then she said softly,“Thank you, Fitzwilliam,” her lips lingering below his.
“Kissing you,Vixen, is payment in full for anything I gave you.” His raspy voice betrayed his rising hunger for her.
“You see me when others do not.They see only the outside—the façade I give the world; you look beyond that.” Elizabeth brushed her lips across his again.“I never lived until the past few days.”
“And you,Vixen, see me as no other can.You looked beyond your first impression.You allow me to laugh, and you have allowed me freedom from my deepest secret. It is good to be Fitzwilliam, not Mr. Darcy of Pemberley.”
“You avoid the lesson, Fitzwilliam.” Elizabeth spun out of his embrace.“En garde!”
“You win, Minx.” He smiled at her as he lifted his sword in a salute.“Let us try a prise de fer. Do not forget to keep your right foot at a quarter angle….Watch my shoulder; does it tilt or drop? That will signal what I plan as part of my attack…Keep your eyes on my face, but see my body’s position as part of your preparation…Now, observe what I do and see if you can mimic it.” Darcy made the same move several times before she made a reasonable reproduction of the intricate form.Then he showed her how to counter the move. Starting in slow motion, he executed the form, giving her time to adjust to the weight of his sword striking hers. Each thrust became more powerful, allowing Elizabeth to feel the strike reverberate through her body.
“Let us try a combination—three basic thrusts and then the prise de fer. I want you to parry each of the thrusts and then fully block my attack. I will come at you quickly and with some force. I want you to think, but—more importantly—I want you to respond.Take your position, Elizabeth.” He paused for a moment, and then he circled her.“En garde!”
Elizabeth was stunned by Darcy’s lightning speed and accuracy. She could barely think, but she got her sword in position to have it slide off his before it flew from her hand.“Again,” he demanded as she picked up her rapier. She had barely taken up her position before he thrust again. This time she held onto her handle, although Darcy’s sword pulled up before he would have cut her. Breathless, she started to protest, but he simply walked back to his position and barked out the dreaded word,“Again.”With an anger she did not know she possessed, Elizabeth dared him in her mind this time, and she responded with an expertise Darcy expected. When the crossed swords pushed against her, she fought back, shoving with all her might.
“Perfect,” he whispered as she still struggled against his weight.
Realizing the fight had ended, Elizabeth released the tension in her shoulders and smiled up at him.“Truly, Fitzwilliam?”
“Truly, Elizabeth!” He smiled in response. “With a bit more practice, you could best some of the men at my club.”
“This was exhilarating. I never felt such freedom. Please teach me one more before we leave today,” she begged.
“I could never deny you, Miss Elizabeth, but we have not much time.We will not be able to practice it.”
“I will practice it in my room. I will find a stick or broom handle or some such article. Oh, thank you, Fitzwilliam.” She bubbled with excitement, her eyes dancing with delight.
Darcy enjoyed her enthusiasm; it made him feel alive.“You will like the sweeping motion of this one; it is called a demi-volte.” He showed her the move several times, again allowing her to imitate his movement. “I will show you the counterattack tomorrow,” he said once she had the basics. “And now, we must leave. Hide the swords, my temptress.
I will get the horses.”
She did as he asked, wiping the swords with a polishing cloth before stowing them behind a chest in the corner. When she left the house by the back door, Darcy held the horses behind the garden.“Miss Elizabeth, you are flushed from the exercise.”
“Maybe I am flushed for some other reason,” she retorted, her chin lifted and her eyes sparkling.
Darcy stepped over to help her up to the horse. Before he lifted her, he restored two curls, which had come undone as they fought. “When you say something provocative,Vixen, I cannot guarantee I will continue to act in an honorable way.” He hefted her with ease up to the horse’s saddle.
“Fitzwilliam?” she said hoarsely.
He tightened the straps on the saddle, refusing to look at her. “Yes?”
“Do you enjoy flirting with me as much as I do with you?”
Darcy held back a burst of laughter.“Vixen, I do not know how I ever lived without it.”
For the next two days, they continued with their secret meetings. Fencing lessons proceeded as before; Elizabeth’s enthusiasm fascinated Darcy.They laughed; they played; they kissed. Meeting in the conservatory, they found an out-of-the-way bench, which observers could not see without entering the room. There, Darcy and Elizabeth spent time simply talking, enjoying the company and the exchange of ideas. He never found anyone as interesting as she was; Elizabeth never felt such acceptance from a man—never criticizing her beliefs, although he obviously did not always agree with her.
Darcy explained his plans for his estate; he shared his frustrations in raising Georgiana. Elizabeth spoke of her dreams of traveling, and she vented about the “silliness” of her mother and siblings, especially when it came to finding mates for all the Bennet sisters. They were friends; Darcy and Elizabeth had built a trust.
Their time alone became more noticeable to the others, although no one knew the true extent of their blossoming relationship. By silent agreement, around others, they still sniped at each other. Caroline Bingley, vexed by what she could not identify, undermined Elizabeth every chance she got; Elizabeth found Miss Bingley’s jealousy amusing and amplified each situation by feigning an ignorance of rank and consequence. Darcy fought to keep a neutral countenance during each exchange.
One particular evening, Caroline’s plan backfired. She hoped to demonstrate her superiority over Elizabeth Bennet by walking elegantly about the parlor.When Darcy took no notice, Caroline, in desperation, turned to Elizabeth and said, “Miss Eliza Bennet, let me persuade you to follow my example and take a turn about the room.”
Caroline’s declaration surprised Elizabeth, but seeing the chance to befuddle her hostess, she agreed to it. Miss Bingley succeeded no less in the real object of her civility; Mr. Darcy looked up. He was as much aware to the novelty of attention in that quarter as Elizabeth herself could be, and unconsciously closed his book.Watching Elizabeth Bennet side-by-side with Caroline Bingley would give him a his Elizabeth. Plus, how they reacted towards each other could allay gossip.
Having his attention at last, Caroline asked, “Will you not join us, Mr. Darcy?” He considered how Caroline might feel if he stood and took Elizabeth’s hand and placed it on his arm to walk with her alone. Elizabeth must have understood his thoughts because she stifled a laugh.
He fought the urge to ridicule Miss Bingley’s play. “You could but have two motives in choosing to walk about the room, and I would interfere with both.”
Elizabeth saw his eyes flash with anticipation. Poor Caroline Bingley, she thought. She would never understand this man!
“Whatever could he mean, Miss Eliza?”
Elizabeth took pity on the woman. “He means to be severe on us.” She looked at Darcy and pursed her lips. “The surest way of disappointing him will be to ask nothing about it.” But Elizabeth knew that Caroline could not let it go.
“Oh, please tell us, Mr. Darcy,” Caroline pleaded.
Darcy leaned back in his chair.“I have not the smallest objection of explaining.You either choose this method of passing the evening because you are in each other’s confidence and have secret affairs to discuss or because you are conscious that your figures appear to the greatest advantage in walking.” Darcy’s lips turned up in a smile. He paused for a dramatic effect.“If the first, I should be completely in your way; if the second, I can admire you better from here.”
Caroline pretended shock, but Elizabeth expected as much. He loved to twist the spoken word. “How shall we punish him?” she called to Elizabeth.
“Nothing so easy,” Elizabeth taunted. “We can all plague and punish one another.Tease him—laugh at him. Intimate as you are, you must know how it is to be done.”
“Mr. Darcy is not to be laughed at,” protested Caroline.
Elizabeth inquired lightly, “Then you think him to have no imperfections?” Darcy flinched. Had he made a mistake in trusting Elizabeth? She circled where he sat before she spoke again. He felt
“I made no such pretension. I have faults enough, but they are not, I hope, of understanding.” Darcy commented dryly, attempting to distract himself from his lust. He wondered if she comprehended his double meaning. Did Elizabeth truly understand him? “My temper I dare not vouch for.—It is, I believe, too little yielding—certainly too little for the convenience of the world. I cannot forget the follies and vices of others so soon as I ought, nor their offenses against me. My temper would perhaps be called resentful. My good opinion once lost is lost for ever.”
“I would not wish to be a recipient of your wrath, Mr. Darcy.” Elizabeth thought she might like to be the recipient of something else, but not his temper. “There is, I believe, in every disposition a tendency to some particular evil, a natural defect, which not even the best education can overcome.” She started away from him. “Do you not agree, Mr. Darcy?” She gazed at him intently over her shoulder.
“Agree, Miss Elizabeth?” He smiled seductively.“We rarely agree.”
“Do you have a need to hate everyone?” she challenged, his superior attitude causing irritation.
Darcy shifted uncomfortably. Hate? All he wanted now was to touch her.“You, Miss Elizabeth, willfully misunderstand me.”
“I will provide you the opportunity, Sir, to convince me otherwise,” she taunted.
Before he could respond again, Caroline cut them off with a call to her sister for some music. Darcy, reluctantly, returned to his book.
Elizabeth took up her embroidery again. His words shook her sense of well-being. Does Mr. Darcy really think that I misunderstand him? Elizabeth felt she truly knew the man.There was a time when she thought he might be the man who had killed three young women in and about Derbyshire, but no more. He could be
Elizabeth and Jane Bennet would return to Longbourn on the morrow. Darcy was loath to see his and Elizabeth’s time together end.
For their last evening, they took up residence on a settee in the alcove of Charles’s study.The household had been asleep for hours, but they chatted on. “Do you not see, Elizabeth, Wellesley must make a stand, or Napoleon will march right to King George’s door.”
“But the number of lives!” she protested.“So many men killed.”
“The numbers would be great,” he conceded.
They sat on either end of the furniture. Darcy stretched out his legs in front of him. Elizabeth, on the other hand, draped her legs over his lap, and he lightly massaged the arch of her foot. An outsider might think them to be an example of perfect marital harmony. After a long silence, he spoke the words that neither of them wanted to say:“You return to Longbourn tomorrow?”
“Jane is well, and we cannot intrude on Mr. Bingley’s kindness any longer.” Impulsively, she drew up her legs, tucking them under her and sitting up straighter, symbolically withdrawing from his touch.“We leave after services tomorrow.”
Darcy sat up also, straightening his waistcoat and jacket.“I see,” he mumbled.
“We knew it had to end.”The silence roared in her ears.
Darcy removed imaginary lint from his sleeve. “Of course. It was expected.”
Before they could say anything else, they heard someone in the hall. Elizabeth scrambled to her feet and plastered herself to the wall so no one would see her. Darcy stepped forward into the room and into the light.“Miss—Miss Bingley!” he stammered.
“Mr. Darcy!” she gasped. “I did not expect to find you here. I came down for a book, but saw the reflection of the candle and came to investigate.”
Darcy knew that she lied. First, Caroline Bingley never read unless someone made her; and, second, she could not see the reflected single candle under the closed door. However, he would not let her find Elizabeth here. “I hoped Charles had some of that excellent brandy we shared earlier.” He held up the glass he had left on the table to indicate the truth of his words. “As you can see, I found it; but now it is late.Why do you not let me show you back to your room, Miss Bingley?”
“We could sit and talk for awhile.” Caroline started for a chair. Out of the corner of his eye, Darcy saw Elizabeth cling closer to the wall, trying to become invisible.
He sprang forward and caught her arm, forcibly turning Caroline as he spoke. “Miss Bingley, you know that is not possible. It is too forward even for intimate friends, such as you and me, to spend time alone, and my breeding will not allow a lady to remain unescorted. I have the candle”—he reached for the one in her hand—“and I insist you let me see you upstairs.” He hustled her towards the door. Caroline nearly tripped, but he supported her.
“Thank you, Mr. Darcy, you are most kind,” she said, simpering.
“Think nothing of it, Miss Bingley.”
Darcy hated to leave Elizabeth to find her own way to her room; he took great pleasure in kissing her good night. Her soft lips left a trail of fire over his; such thoughts brought a moan to his lips, but he stifled it. Leading Miss Bingley to her door, he bid her a pleasant night before heading for his own room. He could not turn around. Caroline Bingley would smudge Elizabeth’s reputation if she saw them together.
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