by Nora Kipling
“Why, it is just nice to see two young members of society in such close confidences,” Mrs. Gardiner said, but there was something in her voice that had Elizabeth narrowing her eyes in suspicion.
“And?”
“And what my dear?” Mrs. Gardiner did not meet her eyes any longer, but looked down at the letter she penned.
“We are not the first of the ton to become friends,” Elizabeth said.
“No, you are not, my dear,” Mrs. Gardiner said absently as she continued to write. “But you are the first that I have seen where each person is entirely oblivious to the affection the other one holds for them.” Her words were like a splash of cold water to the face and Elizabeth gawped at her aunt.
“I beg pardon?”
“You love him, Lizzy, it’s quite clear to me.”
“I… I…” Elizabeth sputtered.
“Oh don’t even attempt to deny it, my girl,” Mrs. Gardiner said, laying her quill down and turning to her niece with a kindly smile on her face. “You hold him in high regard, and he does the same to you. I dare say he has been in love with you since we first set foot in the carriage, but that would be an understatement. He has adored you since we left Longbourn, if not before then. Had you no idea?”
Elizabeth stood there, having gone silent. Was she so very obvious in her feelings? Oh goodness… she lifted her hand to her mouth.
“Do you think he knows?”
Mrs. Gardiner rolled her eyes.
“Really, I ought to remind you to clean your ears next time we bathe, for I believe you did not listen to me when I said he is unaware as to your feelings for him” Mrs. Gardiner said dryly before getting up, quickly folding and sealing the letter. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I shall go downstairs to have the innkeeper post this.”
“Yes… all right…” Elizabeth said, and then collapsed on the end of the bed as Mrs. Gardiner left.
Mr. Darcy… in love with her.
And she with him.
It made it more real to have her aunt say so out loud, and Elizabeth felt her cheeks flushing at the very thought of it.
He did propose to you, you ninny, she thought and then covered her face with her hands.
“Oh I have been an absolute fool,” she whispered, feeling mortified. She sat up suddenly. So his feelings that day in the bookstore had been true, if ill-timed in their revelation. If it was so plain that her aunt could see it while she and Mr. Darcy engaged in purely innocent pastimes, with no flirtation between them to speak of…
She thought of the sparkle in his eyes, and the quirk of his lips as he smiled at some joke she made, or some other such thing…
Oh. But she was a little idiot. How had she not seen it so plainly?
One thought came to her immediately, that made her blood run cold in her body.
He loved her, and yet he was riding for Gretna Green, to stop the marriage between Jane and his best friend, so he might marry Jane instead.
She got to her feet. She needed to speak with him, immediately. She was halfway to the door of their room when she realized her hair was still in knots, and it gave her enough pause to stop where she was immediately.
She reached up one hand, to tug the rags free… but then her hair would be wet, and she would look quite the picture in the worst way.
Elizabeth cursed aloud, and then was grateful her aunt was still downstairs, dealing with the express. She ached to go to Mr. Darcy, and yet, at the same time, she wished to look her best when she did so.
She turned to look at herself in the glass and shook her head. Nightrail on, dressing robe loose around her figure, and hair in rags. She could not go to Mr. Darcy like this. Her stomach flip-flopped but she remained firm. She would see him in the morning… when she looked better.
And then she would ask him… what exactly? She huffed out an impatient breath as she toyed with what she might even think of saying to Mr. Darcy.
“I am passionately in love with you,” she said to the mirror, and then let out a bark of laughter as the words rung in her empty ears. No, she could not say that.
“Do not marry my sister,” she tried. That sounded… better. Although he might think her an awful bluestocking for being so bold as to command him what to do. But then, hadn’t her own aunt promised her they would looking out for Jane’s happiness on this voyage? And Mr. Darcy did not seem inclined to marry Jane in the slightest…
As she stared at herself in the mirror she realized that the only reason that Mr. Darcy could have for coming on the trip to Gretna Green, if not to stop Jane from marrying Mr. Bingley, since he did not seem to want to marry her himself… the only reason he would have for coming was to spend time with her.
“Oh, Lizzy,” she whispered to herself, “but you have been a fool.”
* * *
Even if sleep did not come easily to her, she did not dream, and for the next few days tried to think of a way to somehow talk to Mr. Darcy about how she was feeling. Surely he would not judge her, since he was in the same predicament. Now that she was aware of the depths of his emotions, or presumed depths, each action he took meant more to her.
His hand on hers as he helped her into the carriage. The way he let her have the last of the cheese rolls at a roadside luncheon they took when no inn was to be found. How he promised her, upon trading out their horses at a postal stop, that the animals would be cared for like they were his own, and she saw him tip the groomsman six whole shilling to ensure it.
Every time she turned around, Mr. Darcy was there, with a quiet word, or a little joke, or even a pair of sweet buns that he’d purchased off a vendor when they’d happened across a traveling fair. She’d shared those with her aunt, who had raised both eyebrows again, reading quite a bit into the procurement of said sweet buns.
Proof of his kindness was in every day he spent with him, for despite how frustrating and tiring their journey, he never raised his voice, and he always gave her and her aunt the best room at each inn even though he could have demanded the better for himself.
Each night she lay down on fresh sheets, and plump pillows, and thought of Mr. Darcy, alone in his room, untying his cravat for he had gone without a valet. He hadn’t suffered much for lack of his personal assistant, for he still looked as handsome as ever, and Elizabeth had no complaints.
Indeed she rather liked the look of him, every few days he would get a shave in whatever village they passed through, but in-between, he took on the rugged look of what she imagined a pirate might have. It was not genteel, but it was appealing in its own way. And, at the very least, he did not apologize for his appearance, for they were all in the same state. Lizzy’s dresses were not pressed as they might have been at home, or on a proper visit somewhere, as the hurried pace of their journey did not allow for a lot of dalliances.
The change in their relationship and how they treated one another was a slow, natural thing, to the point that it seemed almost normal one day when Mrs. Gardiner sat across from Elizabeth instead of next to her, forcing Mr. Darcy to pick between them.
He chose to sit next to Elizabeth, and they spent the next few hours looking in opposite directions, although the few times Elizabeth had snuck a peek, she’d seen a flush of color across his cheeks.
When they stopped for their noon luncheon, Mrs. Gardiner got out immediately, and asked them to stay inside so she might relieve herself in private in a copse of trees at the side of the road. Such necessities were taken while traveling due to the lack of facilities anywhere, and Elizabeth was just grateful so far she’d not had to expose herself in that manner as the road they were on was well-treed and quite private.
The thought of doing that in front of Mr. Darcy was quite too much for her.
So, they sat in the carriage, the both of them, quietly, waiting for Mrs. Gardiner to return. Elizabeth felt the scratch of the clasp on her necklace and itched at it. The thing had been bothering her since the day before, but she hadn’t had the chance to take it off.
It itched again
and she reached up, meaning to adjust where it lay on her neck, but gasped when the catch came undone and the necklace fell.
Mr. Darcy’s hand shot out, and he grabbed it from mid-air before it could hit the floor of the carriage.
They both looked at one another, inches from one another, staring into one another’s eyes, until Mr. Darcy sat up properly.
“Your necklace,” he said quietly.
“Thank you,” she whispered.
“If you would…” he motioned as he spoke, “turn for me, I will fasten it about your neck. The catch looks tricky.”
“Yes, it is, quite,” she said, although her voice was muffled behind the sound of her heart in her ears. She turned on the seat in the carriage, and held her breath. Mr. Darcy’s hands came into view, as the necklace unfurled over her chest, and then he drew it up behind her neck. She felt the whisper-soft brush of his breath over her skin, and then-oh-the touch of his thumb along her the base of her spine for just a split moment.
That moment was all it took, as gooseflesh broke out all over her body, and she hardly noticed when he finished and said she could turn back around again. Thankfully her body obeyed so she would not sit there stupidly, her back to him, and she must have mumbled her appreciation, for he said she was quite welcome, and then they were quiet again.
“Alright then, my lad and lass,” Mrs. Gardiner said as she opened the door to the carriage, breaking the moment and causing both Mr. Darcy and Elizabeth to jump. Mrs. Gardiner smiled up at them. She had become quite close to Mr. Darcy in their travels, and they were hedging on a comfortable familiarity that was quite familial. “Shall we have our luncheon?”
Chapter 5
Elizabeth Bennet
Gretna Green, Scotland
* * *
The morning of their arrival at Gretna Green was heralded by a thunderstorm. Mr. Darcy peered out the window of the carriage as the wind whipped at them, rocking their vehicle angrily.
"I should think that we may need to stop early, perhaps, in case the storm should increase in its intensity," he remarked. Elizabeth merely nodded, although her heart was anxious to get to Gretna Green and see her sister.
"We must be close by, surely," Mrs. Gardiner said, although she had a look of concern on her face as she looked out the window as well. "Do you think we will make it before the storm breaks above us?"
"We had best. I would not like to drive the horses if the weather turns foul," Mr. Darcy said, before he sat back in the bench seat and sighed. Elizabeth crossed her fingers behind the book she was reading, and hoped the weather would hold long enough for them to get further down the road.
Rain began streaking along the glass of the carriage an hour later, and there was the distant, low rumble of thunder. Mr. Darcy's face had grown darker as the sky did, although he did not look so completely worried. That gave Elizabeth some hope. Mrs. Gardiner had fallen asleep, snoring quietly in her seat.
Mr. Darcy seemed to notice that Elizabeth was fretting, and he reached over, putting a gentle hand over hers where she was wringing her fingers together.
"We will get to Gretna Green. The horses are steady creatures, and the storm is still a ways away, despite the rain," he reassured her with a smile on his face. She nodded, swallowing hard as she did so.
"Thank you," she whispered quietly. Mr. Darcy looked into her face, his smile gentle, and that compared with the warmth of his hands threatened to do her in. She was so very anxious about seeing Jane, and what was to come, that she barely was able to keep her emotions under control. She felt her eyes burning, and that was it; tears spilled over her cheeks.
"I am so sorry," she said immediately, ashamed of her emotional outburst. Mr. Darcy just shook his head, and pulled out a handkerchief, passing it to her. She dabbed at her cheeks and huffed out a breath, regaining control of herself. "I am just so worried."
"As I would be, in your position," he said grimly, "it was not all that long ago that I was. Perhaps not exactly the same, but it is close enough that I am discomfited by this situation."
"You don't love Jane," she whispered, so her aunt would not awaken.
"No I do not," he answered honestly, his eyes intent on her. "I love you, Miss Elizabeth, and I am warring with myself to do what my father demands of me, and what I know to be right."
His admission of love, while not unexpected, still did curious things to her body. She felt her skin rise up in gooseflesh, and her heart flutter in her chest.
"And what do you know to be right?" she asked. He smiled, slowly.
"No return of my affections?" he teased gently, but not unkindly. Then he cleared his throat. "What is right is to let two people who love each other very much be together, and not interrupt their happiness. I could not sleep a day in my marriage bed knowing that I had stolen the woman, not earned her," he said. He looked disturbed at the very thought, and Elizabeth flushed, nodding.
He was right. She knew that he would never live with himself if he tore Jane and Mr. Bingley asunder. It was not in his nature to do so, she had learnt that, in close quarters with him for the last almost-fortnight.
"So what will you do?" she asked, searching his face for any hint that he would say the very thing that she was hoping for. He looked down at his hands and sighed before smiling at her slowly.
"I would ask, properly this time, the woman I love to agree to be my wife," he said quietly. "And I should hope she has seen the true measure of my character, and has not found me wanting, but rather found herself wanting me."
Her tears dried and hope soared inside of her.
"I think, Mr. Darcy, that should you ask the woman you love to be yours forever, you would find her quite amenable to that fact," she replied. A beautiful, brilliant smile crossed his face at her admission, and her heart thrilled at the sight. He was so handsome, and it made her whole body ache to be held by him.
There was a cough, and the moment was broken, as Mrs. Gardiner sat up with a start.
"Hello," she said, peering out the window, "we must be close then, I see the town."
Mr. Darcy cleared his throat and looked as well, before sighing in relief.
"A sight for sore eyes," he said. "I am grateful we beat the storm, I was that concerned." Elizabeth was as well, and now she felt better, knowing that she could see her sister and be happy for her, whatever the outcome. Mr. Darcy loved her, Elizabeth, and it seemed that he was about to offer for her, when he felt the time was right.
And when he did? She would not refuse him.
* * *
They arrived in Gretna Green at the Lamplight Inn just as the storm truly rolled across the sky, breaking open like an egg and drenching all and sundry. The groomsman appeared at the side of their carriage with an umbrella, and Mr. Darcy helped the two ladies out, one at a time, so they might be protected from the elements as they made their way across the stable yard.
Once they were situated in the inn, standing by the fire so they might dry their dresses, Mr. Darcy left to speak with the innkeeper.
"Ah, young love," Mrs. Gardiner said with a fond expression on her face. Elizabeth blushed.
"I beg pardon?"
"I do not sleep so heavily now in my advanced years," she replied and Elizabeth felt her cheeks pinking up even harder.
"Oh pray, do not say you were listening."
"It was sweet, my dear, and I am pleased that he has found a way to speak to you in a manner that you respond to favorably. Do not think I judge you, for I have watched the two of you, and I believe him when he says that he loves you. It is quite clear in his every movement, his every breath, that he adores you. I could not be happier at the match, for all his father will protest it. Heavens knows why, he wanted his son to marry a Bennet, and it looks as if he will have his wish anyway.
"Thank you,” Elizabeth said, relieved that her aunt did not think any less of her for her conversation with Mr. Darcy. It should have been inappropriate given that he was supposed to marry her sister, but she could not bring herse
lf to care about what society might think of her. Jane was in love with Mr. Bingley, as well, and Elizabeth felt as if she was getting the best of both worlds: true love for herself, and for Jane.
Her dress was almost dry when Mr. Darcy had returned, his face a mask of happiness.
"I bring good news," he said, "Your sister and Mr. Bingley are here in the inn, spending their honeymoon in celebration of their marriage."
Happiness coursed through Elizabeth's body. Jane, married! Mrs. Gardiner clapped her hands together over the news and then cackled.
"That shall teach your father to involve himself in things where he does not belong, then, won't it?" Aunt Gardiner sighed with relief. "I had thought we might arrive in time to stop the wedding, but there you have it, three people in a carriage is a mite bit slower than two. Do they know we are here, Mr. Darcy? Have you left word for them?"
Elizabeth was grateful to her aunt for asking the questions that she was too excited and overwhelmed with joy to ask herself. Mr. Darcy nodded.
"Yes, and yes. I was told they were out doing sight-seeing for the day, but they should be back in time for the evening's meal. Until then, we might relax and prepare ourselves to receive them. It will be a great surprise to them that we have arrived at all, for i doubt they are expecting us." He chuckled. "I feel as if I might play a trick on Bingley, but that would be most unkind given he has just gotten married."
"What sort of trick?" Elizabeth asked, feeling like she knew but did not want to spoil the moment by telling him so. Mr. Darcy grinned, a most wicked expression.
"It would be very unkind to pretend I had come to demand satisfaction for him stealing my intended bride," he said, "but I could not bring myself to do it." He reached out and, in a most intimate gesture that set her heart afire, he twirled one of her curls around his finger and gave it a soft tug. "And the thought of possibly hurting you, if you should think it was in some way true, or have any doubt that my feelings for you surpass those of anyone I have ever loved as a compatriot, friend, or family member... i could not bear to hurt you, Lizzy," he whispered.