Bingley was on the terrace when they arrived. Darcy snatched a cookie from the tea table and tossed his helmet on a seat.
“Jane is waiting upstairs for you,” Bingley said to Elizabeth. Then he ruffled his newspaper and pretended to read it while the smile slipped from her face. He watched Darcy squeeze her hand as she walked past him. Elizabeth pulled herself up the steps reluctantly, feeling 15 again. Jane flung the door open and put her fists on her hips.
“Lizzy!” she said. Elizabeth’s shoulders slumped and she went into Jane’s bedroom and sat on the bed.
“What is going on?” Jane asked. “I thought you hated him!”
“He improved on better acquaintance,” Elizabeth smiled.
“Clearly! Why didn’t you tell me?”
“What is there to tell? Would you want all the sordid details?”
“That’s not what I mean. What I mean is that you’re obviously keeping it a secret.”
“It’s complicated.”
“No, it’s not. That’s a line people say in movies and books when the author hasn’t clearly thought out the reason.” Jane was hurt that she had been left in the dark, concerned about Elizabeth being foisted on a man she hated.
Elizabeth sighed.
“I’m sorry, Jane. You’re right, it’s actually very simple. We are not allowed to have a relationship. It’s against the rules of our profession. It could cost us both our jobs. If my clients or opponents complained, it could be very bad. If it turned out that he was unable to remain impartial, then it could cost one or both of us our licenses.” Elizabeth sighed again and flopped back on the bed.
“That’s no reason to keep it secret from me! You know I won’t judge you.”
“I know, I’m sorry. I guess I got caught up in the excitement of having a secret.”
Jane sat on the bed next to Elizabeth, her anger gone, replaced by concern.
“If you’re not allowed to have a relationship, then why start one? Why put yourself through it?” Jane laid down next to Elizabeth. Elizabeth laughed.
“I wish I could say. It happened and neither of us wanted it to stop. We have an... agreement... that it won’t continue when we get back to the states.”
“That’s ridiculous. You can’t turn it off and on like that.”
“That’s something that we haven’t really discussed.”
“Lizzy, is this just a fling? Or do you like him, really like him?”
“I’m not sure yet.”
“Be careful. I don’t want to see you hurt.” Jane touched Elizabeth’s arm.
“Nobody wants that. We’re just going to take it through the end of the two weeks then we’ll see what happens. Just let it go, OK?” Elizabeth looked at Jane with pleading in her eyes. Jane nodded. Elizabeth hugged her.
****
Charles Bingley had known Darcy for almost 20 years; he had seen him with plenty of women, and knew that Darcy was infamous for his composure. In those years he had never seen Darcy make a public display of affection to anyone but his sister Georgie. He knew that Darcy was cautious to a fault, always wary of a gold-digger. He was exceedingly discrete with his affairs, always mindful of his social position as a Darcy. He had never known Darcy to be impulsive; this affair with Elizabeth was extremely uncharacteristic. Bingley was concerned not only for Darcy but for Elizabeth and any impact their imminent implosion would have on his relationship with Jane.
Which was why he decided to confront Darcy after Elizabeth had gone to Jane. Bingley put the paper down and looked expectantly at Darcy.
“What?” Darcy asked, feeling uncomfortable with Bingley’s stare.
Bingley raised his eyebrows. “What?” he repeated in disbelief. “Don’t try to ignore what I saw with my own eyes! Have you gone mad?”
Darcy sat down, scowling.
“Bingley, I am in no humor to explain myself to you,” he replied, perhaps defensively.
“What you do with any woman is your own business. What you do with my girlfriend’s sister is another matter.”
Darcy’s scowl deepened.
“It was unexpected,” Darcy said reluctantly. “I don’t know exactly what happened but here we are,” he added, by way of weak explanation.
“Hmph!” was Bingley’s reply. He looked very displeased.
“It will end when we get back,” Darcy said quietly. This caused Bingley’s look to go from stormy to thunderous.
“What? You are going to break up with her when we get back?!” he exclaimed in a low voice, leaning forward so they would not be overheard.
“It’s mutual. We cannot be together, it’s against the rules for a judge to date an attorney who appears before him. It has to end,” Darcy replied.
Bingley sat back in his chair.
“Can’t you excuse yourself from her cases?” he asked. He knew there had to be a resolution for such conflicts without someone losing their job.
“Normally, yes, if I felt I could not be impartial. But in our situation, it’s difficult. There are only two judges in our area; all of her cases would have to be transferred to the other judge and that’s too burdensome. That in itself could cause her cases to be prejudiced.”
“Can’t she ask to be assigned to the other judge?”
“She can but it’s the same problem. And it would be suspicious for her to bump me from every case for no apparent reason. I think we’ve agreed to end it when we return and see what happens.”
“You think?” Bingley exclaimed. Darcy knew it was idiotic and he didn’t like to feel idiotic.
“Look, Bingley, I don’t recall you becoming my mother. I’ve never criticized your many questionable flings. Let me be!” He assumed that broody look that only Darcy could do so well.
Darcy hated not knowing the answers. He didn’t know how it would end up after two weeks; he cursed his misfortune to fall so hard for a woman so clearly forbidden to him. He knew he was being impulsive, that everything he did was counter to his deeply ingrained philosophies of careful calculation, planning, and reservation. Yet he felt compelled, bewitched. He had no explanation.
Bingley watched these thoughts flit across Darcy’s face. The actual impropriety of their relationship given their professional positions gave more credence to the idea that Darcy was coming undone. Darcy was clearly infatuated and was steering himself toward disaster. Bingley saw that his friend was in trouble; the least of Darcy’s worries was what Bingley thought of him. Darcy was going to need his unconditional friendship and support in the very near future.
Bingley sat back. “OK,” he sighed and went back to his newspaper.
***
Dinner was an uncomfortable affair, with Darcy and Elizabeth staring at their plates like chastened children, Jane looking at them with something like disappointment and Bingley trying to appear oblivious to it all. Darcy felt he should say something but didn’t know what to say. Elizabeth just wanted the day to be over. Jane just wanted to be assured that Elizabeth wasn’t going to get hurt. Bingley wanted to pretend that he didn’t know anything.
Jane caught Darcy looking at Elizabeth with a miserable expression. He was clearly sorry to have caused her any grief. She watched Elizabeth touch his hand briefly in reassurance.
Darcy remembered their pledge and decided to start now.
“I’m sorry I made your sister mad at you by kissing you, Lizzy,” he said. Jane and Bingley looked at him in surprise but Darcy was looking only at Elizabeth.
“Thank you, Will. She’ll get over it, we are all adults here,” she replied. “I’d hate for the rest of our vacation to be ruined by her being mad at you.”
“So would I. What do you think I should do?”
“I think you should tell Jane that you are sorry, that your intentions are mostly honorable, and that she should mind her own business.”
Darcy turned to Jane. “Jane, I am very sorry, my intentions are mostly honorable, and Elizabeth thinks you should mind your own business. Please,” he added, with an approving nod from
Elizabeth.
Jane sighed. She didn’t like it but Elizabeth was right; they were all adults.
“OK. I’m not a prude, you know, I don’t disapprove of you seeing each other. I’m just worried about the fact that you both seem certain that you can just turn it off and return to normal as if nothing has ever happened. I don’t think you can and I think you are both going to get hurt.”
“I understand and please know I would never do anything to hurt Elizabeth. I think I speak for both of us when I say we are as surprised as you. But it is done and there is nothing we can do to change it. We will not be able to continue when we return to the States; this is our only chance, for however brief it is. Elizabeth and I have an agreement and we both have our eyes open. We would like for you to be happy for us while we have this time.”
When he put it that way, it seemed terribly romantic, like star-crossed lovers, instead of a girls-gone-wild vacation. That made Jane feel better. She gave them a resigned, almost pitying, smile and shrugged.
“OK, you win. I’ll stop sulking.” Darcy laughed and squeezed Jane’s hand. They finished dinner in an easier manner and Elizabeth was relieved when they cleared the dishes and walked toward the terrace for coffee. Darcy held Elizabeth back as Jane and Bingley went ahead. He put his arms around her and kissed her.
“Why don’t you just move into my room?” he said against her lips. “There’s no need to sneak around now.” She nodded, once again feeling intoxicated by his touch, his scent, his voice.
“I’d like that,” she smiled. She wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him deeply.
“Oh, for crying out loud, you two!” Jane said from the terrace. Darcy lifted his head from Elizabeth, grinning. Elizabeth rolled her eyes and walked toward the terrace, pulling Darcy by the hand. They joined Jane and Bingley on the terrace and enjoyed the waning evening sunlight as it sparkled off the lake. Bingley lay comfortably on the sofa with his head in Jane’s lap. Elizabeth sat on a loveseat with her feet tucked up, leaning her back into Darcy. She sighed and felt Darcy give her arm a gentle squeeze. I want to stay right here forever, she thought. She tipped her head back to look at Darcy, who was looking down at her.
“Let’s go move my things,” she said huskily to him. He nodded in understanding and they rose together. Jane looked at them with a raised eyebrow but said nothing. Elizabeth led Darcy by the hand to her room where they quickly gathered her things and shuttled them to his room. Once in the room, Elizabeth dropped her things and leapt into Darcy’s arms, wrapping her legs around his waist. He caught her and laughed questioningly.
“You, Mr. Darcy, are too sexy for your own good. Now that I have no excuse to run to my room, I think you will be imprisoned in this room for the next week,” she said as she wiggled her groin against him, wishing they were naked.
“Miss Bennet, I believe you are a nymphomaniac,” he laughed. He carried her to the bed and dropped her on it then stripped off his shirt. She sighed as she caught sight of his torso, so finely muscled and firm. She pulled off her own shirt as he crawled onto the bed beside her. He leaned over her and kissed her softly.
“I’m glad we were caught,” he murmured against her lips. “Now I can kiss you anywhere, anytime, no hiding.” Her heart fluttered at this and she nodded in agreement. He ran his hand over her collarbone, over her bra, down her waist.
Was I even alive a week ago? he wondered. He had never been so consistently inflamed by anyone; he was in a constant state of awareness of where she was, what she was wearing, who she was talking to, what she was doing. His entire being for the last week had been focused on her, like a little satellite in orbit. He felt like it was his sole purpose to make her laugh, cry, moan, whatever. If he didn’t give it to her, it wasn’t real.
He slipped into her easily; they were after all made for each other. He sighed deeply in her hair, kissing her ear. This was where he belonged; the fantasy was the reality, everything else was illusion. He met her eyes and held them while he made love to her; he believed she could read his mind, hear his thoughts. She responded to his body, touched every spot where he ached to be touched, was rough or tender at the right times. They took a long time before they allowed themselves to apex. She whispered ridiculous endearments in his ear that made him shiver with delight. He didn’t know who he was or where he was anymore; he was only a part of her.
Chapter 11
June 7-Friday
The next day passed in languid relaxation. Jane and Elizabeth lounged on the terrace in shorts and tank tops, taking advantage of the uncharacteristically warm weather. They declined the gentlemen’s invitation to go horseback riding. Darcy did not want to lounge on the terrace. He needed to feel wind on his face, the exhilaration of speeding over a field at thirty miles an hour with rippling horseflesh beneath him. Having his relationship out in the open made him feel more relaxed and more able to leave her alone for a few hours.
Darcy and Bingley studiously avoided the topic of Darcy’s affair during their ride. In time they forgot about it at all and resumed their usual easy friendship. They enjoyed riding over their old haunts, reminisced about old friends and girlfriends, and discussed horses, cars, and motorcycles.
On the terrace, Elizabeth prodded Jane about her relationship with Bingley. From what she could ascertain, Jane was deliriously happy.
“Lizzy, he’s just the most wonderful man I have ever met. He is smart, funny, kind, and he seems to be crazy about me.”
“Jane, that’s wonderful!” Elizabeth smiled. She held out her hand to Jane and Jane squeezed it.
“I think I’m really in love with him,” Jane said quietly. Elizabeth looked at her. “I was at a point where I couldn’t stop thinking about him, wondering where he was or what he was doing. Now, I’m content to know that he’ll come back to me from wherever he was. I love that he’s great with the kids at work, that he really cares about them. I love that he cares about you, too.” She squeezed Elizabeth’s hand again. She bit her lip and grinned. “And he’s a really excellent lover.”
Elizabeth opened her mouth in shock.
“Jane! Too much information!!!” she laughed. They had talked about their sexual exploits before but usually to dissect and criticize. It was easy to laugh at dissatisfying sex.
“No, Lizzy, I mean it! You know how I am, I would always want to please my partner and be satisfied if he was pleased. But Bingley won’t accept that. He won’t stop until I am satisfied. He’s never once come before me, Lizzy. Never once. He waits and watches. If I don’t, he doesn’t. He cares Lizzy. He cares that I feel warm and safe. He cares that I feel beautiful and loved. I’ve never once felt like we were just having sex; every time is this beautiful experience for me. Do I sound like an idiot?”
“Yes,” Elizabeth laughed. “But rightly so. Jane, I’m really happy for you. You deserve such a loving man. I hope everything works out for you.”
“Does Darcy make you happy, Lizzy?” Jane asked cautiously. Elizabeth paused.
“Yes,” she replied quietly. “He makes me feel exactly the same way that you just described, except there’s a risk element added. We both know what we’re doing is wrong and that makes it more exciting. But at the same time...” she trailed off.
“Do you care for him?”
“Yes.”
Jane squeezed her hand again.
Elizabeth grinned. “And he is a very... um... generous lover.” She gave a wicked grin and held her hands about eight inches apart. Jane burst into delighted laughter. She loved her sister and she would be there to help her pick up the pieces; Jane would not interfere with Elizabeth’s temporary joy.
***
After dinner the group gathered in the library where Jane began a reading of The Fellowship of the Ring to Bingley and Elizabeth. Darcy wandered about the room aimlessly for a few minutes then disappeared to a remote corner of the room. A few minutes later they heard the faint strains of a guitar being played quietly. All three looked up at him in astonishment. When he real
ized that Jane was no longer reading, Darcy looked up.
“Jane, I’m so sorry!” he said, putting the guitar down. “That was unspeakably rude of me. I wasn’t thinking. I’m afraid I make a very poor audience tonight, I am too restless to sit and listen. I’ll go to another room,” he said as he stood, his cheeks red with embarrassment.
“Certainly not!!” Jane exclaimed. “That was beautiful! Why don’t you come out and play for us. I was getting tired of reading anyway.” Both Bingley and Elizabeth echoed her.
Darcy laughed. “No, I’m a terrible hack, I was just practicing.”
“Darcy, you are a terrible liar. I know perfectly well that you play excellently,” Bingley chided. He turned to Jane and Elizabeth and said conspiratorially “All the women in college would swoon over him when he pulled out the guitar.” Elizabeth arched her eyebrow at Darcy. He flushed a little deeper and rolled his eyes.
“I’d love to hear you play,” she smiled. Well, if she wanted it, then he had to do it.
“All right, but I won’t have you all sitting around as a rapt audience. Just keep reading or chat amongst yourselves and ignore my mistakes. I’ll provide background music.” He pulled his chair from the corner to be closer to them and began to play softly.
She watched Darcy play, admiring his dexterous fingers on the frets; even when he made a mistake he played on, recovering beautifully. He began a haunting, lyrical song that made Elizabeth feel longing for something lost.
“What song is that?” she asked softly. He looked up and smiled.
“It’s called ‘Voyage for Ireland,’” he answered, and returned his attention to his guitar. With each song, she asked him the name. He played ‘Morgan Magan,’ an upbeat song that reminded her of green rolling hills, and ‘Sergeant Early’s Dream,’ which he said his mother loved.
Bingley and Jane chatted quietly and Darcy interjected his comments into the conversation in his usual curt manner. Elizabeth barely listened as he and Bingley teased each other over long-forgotten exploits in college. She saw only his head bowed in easy concentration over the guitar, curls bouncing slightly as he moved his head with the music. Had Jane given birth to a rhinoceros at that moment, Elizabeth would not have noticed. She had eyes only for him. She wondered if she would ever stop being amazed by his differing sides: the stately Master of Pemberley Darcy, the sexy lover Darcy, the impartial Judge Darcy, the good friend to Bingley Darcy. They all seemed almost to be different people; how did he contain all of these personalities in the same body?
The Trials of the Honorable F. Darcy Page 12