Elizabeth turned her head and smiled as the memory of her own first kiss swept over her. “I do not know what a kiss on the cheek feels like, to be sure . . . ”
Jane leaned forward to see her sister’s face better. “No!” Jane cupped her mouth. “No, Lizzy! What are you hiding from me?” When her sister did not respond but did blush a deeper red instead, Jane laughed outright. “Lizzy, you have not said anything of your trip to Derbyshire. Perhaps you have something to tell me?”
Elizabeth bit her bottom lip as she looked towards her sister. She had not even told her aunt about the kiss, but she knew she could not keep it from Jane — not after seeing Jane blush at the memory of her own first kiss.
Elizabeth fell backwards on the bed, dreamily gazing up at the shadows on the ceiling, and sighed. “You may not be able to explain your first kiss, Jane, but that is very well, for I shall never forget the memory of my own.”
Jane sat in stunned silence and then burst out, “Why, Elizabeth Rose Bennet! You have been the sly one! To think you have come home engaged to Mr. Darcy and said not a single word!”
Elizabeth laughed. “I am not engaged to Mr. Darcy.”
Jane fell to her knees next to her supine sister, her brows lowered in concern. “Not engaged to Mr. Darcy? Then whom have you kissed?”
Jane was confused, for she was convinced that her sister had left Longbourn half in love with Mr. Darcy and only needed to spend time with the man to realize it herself.
“It was Mr. Darcy I kissed — or rather, he kissed me.” Elizabeth giggled and covered her warm cheeks again.
“But you said you were not engaged?” Jane sat back on her heels then and rubbed her puckered brow.
Elizabeth raised herself up on her elbow to reach for her sister’s hand. She pulled it away from her brow and said softly, a smile pulling at the edges of her lips, “Not yet, anyway. I do believe he would have asked me if I had not been in mourning. He is so proper you know that a few days kept him from asking. But he did say he wished to call on me upon my return to Hertfordshire.”
“Yes, Mr. Darcy is very proper.”
Both girls were quiet for a minute, looking at each other. Then they erupted into laughter as Jane said, “Well, perhaps not very proper, it would seem.”
Elizabeth laughed, shaking her head. “Not very, indeed.”
Jane clasped her sister’s hands. “Well, now you must tell me how it happened.”
Elizabeth kissed her sister’s hand. “I hardly know where to begin.”
“Then you must start with the beginning, when you arrived at Pemberley. Did you like his home?”
Elizabeth nodded her head in exaggeration. “I liked it very much — perhaps, too much.”
“And did seeing it render its owner a bit more attractive?”
“Perhaps, a little.” Lizzy smiled mischievously. With a sigh she continued, “He was very kind, and every moment I spent with Georgiana and him was most pleasing. Their home is quite grand and handsome, less of splendor but real elegance, and every comfort imaginable was available to me.” She recollected their conversations and Georgiana’s many attempts to leave them alone. She told her sister about her new knowledge regarding Wickham’s character too and her feelings on discovering her own faulty discernment.
“But I cannot believe he could have been so deceitful,” Jane said. “There seemed to be truth in all his looks.”
Lizzy shook her head sadly. “I know. It seems he is not an honorable man after all. But, Jane, it is in this that I need your advice.”
“Of course, Lizzy.”
“Do you think we ought to make it known generally what we know of his true character?”
“I cannot think there is a need now — not now that he is gone from the neighborhood.”
“I suppose you are right. It can do no good when he is no longer in the area.” Elizabeth privately added, and it would not be good for Mama to blame herself further by finding out she promoted the affections of such a man to Lydia.
“And perhaps he left to start anew, though it would seem then that the rumors about him have been true after all. They say he left substantial debts and that he dallied with some of the serving girls in Meryton.”
Elizabeth sighed heavily. “And as I have learned, Mr. Darcy has all the goodness and Mr. Wickham only the appearance of it.” Elizabeth released her sister’s hand and slid off the bed. She walked towards her traveling valise and pulled out the miniature of her sister. With her back to Jane, she let her finger trail across Lydia’s face as her thoughts trailed across the miles to the artist. He really had all the goodness. With a smile, she turned to her sister and handed her the miniature.
“Mr. Darcy made this for us, and he gave it to me,” she said softly, almost reverently.
Jane looked down at the face in the picture. “Oh, our dear Lydia.” Tears filled the eyes of both, communicating the moment better than words could have. “It captures her exactly. In fact, I believe that is the very dress that she wore to the Netherfield Ball.”
Elizabeth nodded as she had realized that too while traveling. Darcy had said that he had an excellent memory, and he had portrayed Lydia exactly as he remembered her the last time he had been in her company. The portrait depicted Lydia laughing, sitting in a gilded chair. Elizabeth had remembered seeing her sister in that exact pose directly after her dance with Darcy. Their heated argument during their one dance together had ended, and their attention had been momentarily drawn to the loud laughter of Lydia as she sat down, heated after her own dance with an officer. At the time, she knew Mr. Darcy had looked at her sister’s behavior with disdain. It had angered her then.
When she had first realized where the scene was from, she had been confused as to why he would choose to draw her like that when at the time he had clearly disapproved of her actions. Upon further retrospection, Elizabeth realized that the setting captured Lydia’s zest for life and energy. She was at such a tender age and may never have grown out of her selfish, imprudent ways, but as her sister, Elizabeth could not help loving her for that selfsame exuberant spirit. As soon as she realized it, she knew immediately that, although Darcy had not approved of that behavior, he was wise enough to realize that her family would cherish having her portrayed thus with laughter dancing in her eyes. She could not even argue now with his disapproval of her sister’s behavior then; it was not proper behavior for a young lady of gentle birth, to be sure. The truth had caused Elizabeth some mortification until she reminded herself that he had wished to call on her. Such unguarded absurdities were not enough to frighten him away.
“I wanted to share it with Mama and everyone else. Do you think they would like to see it?”
Jane tenderly touched the pink cheeks of her sister in the portrait. She said softly, “Yes. Mama will love it; I am sure.”
Elizabeth sat next to her sister on the bed again, and they both looked at the miniature. After a long while, Elizabeth took the picture and placed it upright on her dressing table. She turned to her sister. “So now we have come to the end, Jane.”
Jane raised her eyebrow with incomprehension. “We have? Whatever do you mean, Lizzy?”
Elizabeth’s lips twitched in an attempt to smile. “Yes, the end. You said for me to start from the beginning.”
Jane’s mouth made a perfect ‘O’ as she remembered that Elizabeth had begun to recount her trip to Derbyshire from the beginning because she had not known how to tell her about Mr. Darcy’s kiss. “And so he gave you the picture and you kissed him in return?” she teased her sister.
Lizzy could not hold back her smile then as she laughed. “Not exactly, though it made me so happy, perhaps I could have.” She paused as a slip of a memory flitted across her mind, and she recalled Mr. Darcy saying something about not suspending any pleasure of hers. She shook her head, dispelling it as nothing. “No, then I asked him why he drew such a thing for me.”
“Mr. Darcy drew it? But of course he did, though I did not know he was so talente
d.”
“Jane, did you know Mr. Darcy was accomplished?”
Jane waved her hand as if it was nothing, “Of course, Lizzy, did you not? Mr. Bingley had said something of it last autumn. He said it was just a hobby of his, but of course, I did not think then that Mr. Darcy was so talented.” She nodded towards the miniature.
“Well this is a fine surprise! Why did you not tell me?”
Jane shrugged. “You did not like Mr. Darcy then, Lizzy. I did not think you cared to hear any of his finer accomplishments.”
Elizabeth clenched her teeth. Her sister was right. Even if she had been told, she doubted whether she would have cared a jot.
Jane wrapped her arms eagerly about her folded legs. “So you asked him why he drew it . . . ”
Elizabeth sank dreamily down next to her sister. “It was at that moment that I realized he loved me and I loved him.” She sighed, remembering the sensation that shot through her when their eyes connected and communicated so profoundly. “I was lost. And before I knew it, he had drawn closer to me and kissed me . . . ” her last words dying out as her eyes glazed over in memory.
Jane brought her hands to her chest over her heart and fell backwards on the mattress in a swoon. “That is so romantic . . . ”
Elizabeth turned to her sister and laughed. Lying beside her, Elizabeth took her hand. “It was and more.” She thought of the heat of his kiss and the fire in his eyes — fire that was something altogether unfamiliar to her, though not exactly unpleasant.
Jane stirred from their reverie. “When does Mr. Darcy return to the neighborhood then, Lizzy?”
“I hope soon. I do not know. I suppose we will have to find out from your dear Mr. Bingley.”
“He will not stay away long, for I believe Charles plans to ask him to stand up with him at our wedding.”
“I would hope he would not stay away that long.” Elizabeth grimaced at the thought of the common two-month engagement.
“Oh no. Charles and I feel we have waited quite long enough. As soon as we have Papa’s consent, we wish to marry as soon as the banns can be read. Three weeks’ time is all.”
Elizabeth rolled on her side to look at her sister. “That is wonderful! I cannot express how happy I am for you, Jane. You have waited long enough.”
“And you, Lizzy. You are happy for yourself too, for it will guarantee Mr. Darcy arrives before long. And have you not waited long enough too?”
Lizzy bent and kissed her sister’s cheek as she chuckled and lay back again. “There might be a bit of truth in those words, Jane, but I am happy for you.”
“And I for you, dear sister.”
* * *
Darcy groaned, threw the letter on his desk and leaned back into his leather chair. He rubbed his eyes and groaned again. Now he could not go to Hertfordshire as soon as he wished. At that very moment, he knew that Elizabeth was home, free of the strictures of society regarding her mourning and, he hoped, waiting for him. He and Georgiana were even prepared to leave for Hertfordshire the next morning. He had hoped to be engaged by the end of the week. Heaven knew he had waited long enough.
Now, he had encountered yet another unexpected delay, separating him from Elizabeth for perhaps another week or two. Blast it all; he wanted to be in Hertfordshire for those few weeks, not in London!
His cousin Colonel Fitzwilliam had written him at Pemberley. Peeved that His Majesty’s Post seemed determined to keep him a bachelor, he took up the page and reread the damned letter.
Darcy,
In regards to that matter of business you left me to look into here in London, I have discovered some intelligence about which we must speak at your earliest opportunity. Please send a card around to Matlock House when you arrive in Town.
Regards,
Richard
Chapter 13
Upon reaching his London townhouse after three hard days of travel from Pemberley, Darcy was saved the trouble of writing to his friend Bingley about his wish to visit the following week as the man himself arrived upon his doorstep the next day. Early that morning, as Darcy had reached the bottom of the stairs en route to his study to attend some business before his cousin arrived, Mr. Bingley announced himself.
“Bingley! This is a surprise; I thought you in Hertfordshire.” You are supposed to be in Hertfordshire! Darcy attempted a smile through his clenched teeth.
His friend beamed from ear to ear as he extended his hand towards Darcy who was a tad slow to accept it. “Darcy, you must congratulate me, for I am to be the happiest of men!”
“Is that so?” Darcy raised his brow and ushered his friend down the hall to the privacy of his study. Closing the door behind them, Darcy continued, “I assume these congratulations concern a certain lady in Hertfordshire then?”
“Indeed, they do! Jane has accepted my suit, and her father has given his consent for our marriage.”
If Bingley was now engaged to Miss Bennet, then he was certain to return to the area, hopefully soon. “Then why are you in London if your lovely Miss Bennet is still in Longbourn? She is still at home, I presume.”
“Why, to get the license, of course! And I need to pick up my mother’s family ring from my townhouse vault.”
Darcy relaxed, knowing Bingley’s marital felicity was secure. “I wish you joy, my friend! Miss Jane is a jewel, and you will be very happy.”
Bingley smiled wistfully. “Yes, she is my angel. I plan to return as soon as possible. How fortunate for me that my butler heard you had arrived just yesterday! That is why I have come — to ask if you wish to travel back with me.”
Did he ever! Darcy wished more than anything that he could return so soon. The devil take you, Wickham! “I cannot, unfortunately. I had planned to join you in a few days as it turns out, but unexpected business must keep me in town for a little while.”
“I hope not too long. I had hoped you would stand up with me. We plan to marry as soon as the banns can be read; the first will be read in Longbourn chapel tomorrow. Will your business be concluded within three weeks?” he asked hopefully.
“Heavens, I hope so! I expect it to be concluded within a week, no more than two.” He cursed his old childhood friend under his breath again.
Bingley stood and slapped his friend on the back. “Capital! I shall expect you then in no more than two weeks. My sister will be back from Scarborough by then to come to the wedding and to play hostess.” He laughed when he heard his friend groan. “Will you bring Georgiana?”
Darcy walked towards his desk to mark his friend’s wedding date in his appointment book. He became momentarily distracted at the thought of seeing Elizabeth again at a wedding, albeit not the one he dreamed of with her eyes lit with happiness and her cheeks pink with pleasure. Her pink cheeks led him naturally to remember the lovely blush on her face after their stolen kiss. He had thought of it often, even sketched her as he remembered she looked after his kiss: her eyes somewhat unfocused, drunk and yet clear and the sunlight that glimmered off her mouth, slightly opened in her dazed state. Heavens, if she knew how she looked then and what a monumental task it had been for him not to take her in his arms again . . . Darcy swallowed loudly and then choked when his friend’s hearty slap on the back pulled him away from his enchanted reminiscence.
“Darcy? Are you all right, man?”
Darcy coughed again and turned to his friend, slightly annoyed. “Of course, I am! What was that for, Bingley?”
“I asked if you were bringing Georgiana to the wedding, and you went blank. Then you turned red; I thought maybe you were in some sort of distress.”
Darcy huffed and stood straighter as he smoothed his already impeccable cravat folds. “I am well as you can see. No need to resort to bodily injury.”
Bingley chuckled. “My apologies, then, for the misunderstanding. So will you bring Georgiana to the wedding?”
“Yes, I planned to if that is acceptable to you.”
“Of course it is; she is like a sister to me” — Bingley laughed
and shrugged his shoulders — “maybe more dear to me than my own sweet darlings.”
Darcy was clearly amused. “I am happy for you, Charles.” Then he conceded, “Again, I am sorry for interfering last autumn. You should have had this moment long before now.”
“Fah! Think nothing of it. If you will stand up with me, all is forgiven.”
“I would be honored.”
Bingley sat down again and observed his friend closely. “While I have a minute, how was your visit to Pemberley?” Jane had hinted to him that Elizabeth was looking forward to it, and Bingley had his own suspicions for quite some time about the object of his friend’s interest.
Darcy smiled widely at his friend. If he was soon to fall into a parson’s mousetrap himself, he might as well not hide his feelings on it. “It was everything lovely.” She was everything lovely.
“You mean she was everything lovely.”
Darcy coughed again when his friend so aptly read his thoughts. “Georgiana and Miss Elizabeth are very dear to each other, you know.”
Bingley smiled at his friend’s evasiveness. “So, have you no news for me, then, Darcy?”
Darcy’s face was unreadable before his twitching lips betrayed him with another smile. “Not yet, my friend, but I hope there will be very soon.”
His friend laughed and extended his hand to him. “So it is leg shackles for the two of us then — eh, Darcy?”
“As soon as I can manage it, my friend. As soon as I can manage it.”
“Well then, I will leave you to your business so that you may finish it all the sooner. When I return, I will have your rooms prepared for you. Congratulations, my friend. She is almost as lovely as my Jane.”
Darcy laughed as he stood to walk his friend to the door. “As fine as your Miss Bennet is, I cannot agree with you there, Bingley. But our argument may be lengthy if we continue to debate that point.”
“I could not ask for a better brother, Darcy.”
“Although I have reason to feel secure in my suit, I suppose it is still too early to count my good fortune. I envy you that. I can return your sentiment though.”
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