“Surely, Lizzy, you understand the even greater honour Mr. Darcy is prepared to bestow upon you. It is not like you to shrink before a challenge.”
Darcy caught Mr. Bennet’s eye with a brief nod, and the men watched Elizabeth carefully.
“Papa…Mr. Darcy… What will people say when they learn of this arrangement? Of what mercenary motives will I be accused? What will people assume I have done to earn this? Fitzwilliam…” At her father’s censorious look, she amended, “…Mr. Darcy.” Elizabeth took a deep breath, enquiring into his eyes. “You know what your aunt has said of me already. Oh…” Her pacing was rapid but her gaze remained fixed upon Darcy.
Mr. Bennet turned in his seat to follow her, and with the increased velocity of her steps, he realised he and Darcy might appear to a disinterested observer as if they were watching lawn tennis. Elizabeth and her betrothed remained with fixed gazes upon each other, Darcy’s head moving rhythmically from side to side.
“Elizabeth, you know I abhor disguise of any sort. I know you love me, and I know you love Pemberley. Let my aunt say what she will. Let her invite such folly upon herself. My cousin Richard and my sister agree with my wishes. They are all the family I need consult. They approve of everything about you.”
“But my mother, Fitzwilliam… what of her? She will trumpet this all over Hertfordshire. Every shopkeeper, blacksmith and labourer will know your worth. Every stranger she meets will be told. She will announce it to our servants when she visits. I have no doubt of her insufferable, interminable bragging.”
Darcy stepped around Bingley’s desk and interrupted her pacing by taking her hand. “Elizabeth, stop yourself. Breathe.”
Mr. Bennet decided that the darkened colour of his daughter’s complexion approximated that of a beetroot. This opinion he kept to himself.
Darcy shook the hand he was holding, trying to move her to meet his gaze. “Is this the woman I have heard described as having a conceited independence?”
Mr. Bennet was pleased that Darcy would try to tease her out of her high dudgeon.
“Who has said this of me?”
Mr. Bennet believed he was about to learn to what heights of indignation Elizabeth could be provoked.
“A woman you will soon be calling sister, I am afraid. Do not worry. I defended you, even though, in this instance, the lady was not wide of the mark. But what she calls ‘conceited independence,’ I would call a refreshing lack of conformity.”
Elizabeth raised an eyebrow. “Oh, would you! Faint praise indeed, Fitzwilliam. And yet you will marry me?”
Darcy laughed. “And never want for another.”
Elizabeth fought a smile but ultimately lost the battle.
Mr. Bennet hoped he would remember to praise Darcy when they were next alone for how well he was already able to manage Elizabeth. This man would do very well for her.
With his bride-to-be once again cheerful, Darcy continued, “My aunt and your mother will be equally foolish, each in her own way. What does it matter to you and me? We shall know we have done the right thing by each other. The people we love most already understand us.” He clasped both of her hands to his chest.
“Ahem.” Mr. Bennet stood. He took one of his daughter’s hands from Darcy and turned her to face him, drawing Elizabeth back from nearly entering Darcy’s embrace. “Mr. Darcy—which is how you should address him in my presence until you are married—is perfectly right, Lizzy. Let them—whoever they are—say what they may. Let your mother and his aunt have their sport. You know the truth of your regard for each other. Let that be an end to it.”
Elizabeth turned to face Darcy. Their eyes shared an embrace. “You will not mind?”
“No, dearest Elizabeth. I shall not mind. I consider myself a very lucky man. Bingley may smile, but I laugh.”
She sighed deeply, still watching Darcy’s loving brown eyes. “Did I not tell you, Father, he is the best man I have ever known?”
“Yes, Lizzy, I believe you mentioned it.”
Darcy’s blush was immediate and profound.
Mr. Bennet took Elizabeth into the Netherfield library while Darcy remained in the study to add a few notes to a letter he had already drafted to his solicitors. Mr. Bennet suspected correctly that a decanter of brandy could be found there and poured a portion for himself and a splash for Elizabeth. They each took a sip.
“Would you care to explain your comment about Lady Catherine de Bourgh, my love?”
Elizabeth nodded. “Do you remember, Papa, when you received that inane letter from Mr. Collins with his inference from his in-laws’ gossip that Mr. Darcy would propose? You asked if Lady Catherine had come to deny her consent.”
“Ah…I was not wrong? As I recall, you did not directly respond to that particular query. Had Mr. Darcy proposed already, and was awaiting an answer?”
“No, not exactly. Lady Catherine had indeed heard speculation. She was ‘most seriously displeased.’ She importuned me to promise I would never accept a proposal from Mr. Darcy, and I said I would make no promise of the kind.”
“Of all the bloody— ”
“—cheek,” said Darcy, entering the room and finishing Mr. Bennet’s oath. He had heard enough of their conversation from the open doorway to know its content. “Mr. Bennet, I caught your response to Miss Elizabeth’s reference to my aunt. Lady Catherine was quite a matchmaker, though contrariwise to her own wishes. She would be equally ‘seriously displeased’ to know she has created quite the most amusing chapter of our courtship.”
Elizabeth continued the tale. “After leaving me, she descended upon her poor nephew, announcing that since I would not promise not to accept Mr. Darcy, he must promise never to propose to me.”
Mr. Bennet laughed. “It is a wonder so many negatives could end in such a positive way.”
“It makes proposing much easier, I find, if one’s aunt has revealed that one will be accepted in advance of taking the risk. She tipped Miss Elizabeth’s hand, I fear. I tend to be a conservative gambler, and I much prefer a sure thing. My aunt’s retelling of her dressing down by your daughter proved highly motivating. I hastened back to Hertfordshire the next day.”
“And you got onto your hind legs with her, did you Lizzy? Of what did she accuse you?”
Both Elizabeth and Darcy responded by imitating the lady, “Arts and allurements…”
“Ah!” nodded Mr. Bennet. He was highly diverted. “Did they work?”
Darcy laughed, “Slowly, but yes. Evidently when a woman is artful enough to thoroughly and sincerely detest me, I find it alluring…”
Elizabeth was chuckling, but she also blushed. She had never told her father of Darcy’s first proposal in Kent, and she felt Darcy was dancing dangerously close to revealing it.
Mr. Bennet thought the way Darcy spoke the word “alluring” too intimate. Fortunately for Elizabeth, he felt keenly that he had seen enough into their privacy and need delve no further. “Well, well, Mr. Darcy. You see us restoring ourselves. Will you take a small brandy to sustain you until our evening revels begin?”
“Aha! So this is where all of the interesting people are!” Bingley entered the room. “And they are pouring out drinks!” This last was addressed to Colonel Fitzwilliam, who was behind him. “I find, Colonel, one can generally locate lost Bennets or Darcys in a library.”
Colonel Fitzwilliam added to Bingley’s exuberance, “I shall remember it, sir, should I ever find one missing.”
***
Now that the marriage settlement had been explained to Elizabeth, Darcy grudgingly decided he would go to London to prod the drafting in person. Once the news of his leaving was announced, he found himself quickly burdened with errands for others, and although he had planned to ride to London on horseback, he speculated it might take more than one carriage for his return, a second being needed to bear all the gifts for Elizabeth and Jane ordered by their relations and his.
Elizabeth was not pleased to be without him for a se’nnight, leaving only five da
ys until the wedding after his return. Their leave-taking made her eyes sting, but she wanted him to believe that, while she would miss him dearly, she was not silly. There had been a dinner at Longbourn the night before Darcy’s early morning departure, and although they had said their farewells publicly and properly in the drawing room, Darcy contrived a long wait for his carriage. Elizabeth likewise made an excuse to leave the room, and joined him in the torchlight on the Longbourn porch in the cold night air.
“Is it too late for me to leave with you?” She snuck up to him and embraced his arm. “It would take very little encouragement to convince me to elope.”
Darcy chuckled. “Will the next week be such an ordeal? You will stay away from your Aunt Phillips, will you not?”
“Everyone seems decided that Jane and I shall not fall victim to her salacious prattling, but there is all of the rest of it; the minutia cannot be borne without our morning walks. Your company has me quite spoilt. It is no longer enjoyable to walk alone.” She hugged his arm ardently before continuing. “And my mother…” Elizabeth emitted a resentful sigh. “Thank you for waiting to announce the terms of the settlement until your return. She seems to like Miss Elizabeth Bennet less and less, but she likes Mrs. Elizabeth Darcy more and more!”
Darcy took off his hat and bent to kiss her forehead. “It is only a week. Please write, or send an express if it all becomes too much.”
“Oh, I am quite sure you will want as many details as propriety allows about the night Jane and I are to stay at Netherfield with Caroline, Louisa, and your sister. Indeed, I would not go were Georgiana not to be there. She has your wicked sense of humour; she has let me discover it.”
“Ah, I am reminded to tell you. My sister is too clever, at least too clever for my own good. Two nights ago we sat talking—about you, as it happens—and she inferred, correctly, from an unguarded remark I made, that I have proposed to you twice.”
Elizabeth looked a little alarmed. “Oh, dear…did you quote me? Tell me you did not.”
“To relate the tale honestly, it is sadly necessary to quote us both.” Darcy embraced her. “That event did neither of us credit.”
“She adores you. Now she will like me less.” Elizabeth looked down, studying the buttons on Darcy’s greatcoat, suddenly trying not to cry. Although the proposal in Kent was now, in private circumstances, a matter of amusement between them, Elizabeth was not willing to have her faulty first impressions and the influence of a certain other man so widely known.
“I think you will be surprised, for I believe you will find her more impressed with you than ever, and a little less so with me. She kept saying, ‘You said what?’”
Elizabeth wanted to read his eyes. His voice had a note of teasing. She learned nothing, for he closed his eyes and kissed her. She responded in kind, warmed by his embrace.
“That is the part of our walks I shall miss.” Darcy lowered his head to whisper in her ear then drew her earlobe between his teeth. His breath on her neck made her shiver, and she noticed he did not ask whether she was cold. He knew better. He kissed her jaw, her blushing cheek, and finally her mouth again before asking, “You will not forget I love you, will you?”
“No, sir, I promise I shall not. But this may give Jane and Charles another chance to progress beyond us in their…courting.” She kissed Darcy in return, her hands travelling up his well-clothed chest to the top of his cravat. Elizabeth longed to feel his skin and tousle his hair. Touching him was the one yearning she allowed herself. “Why is your cravat always so tight?” she muttered, exasperated.
“To torment us both, I fear. One might just as easily ask why your evening gowns are so devilishly low.” His hand was on her shoulder, and he allowed one finger to drift slowly down her skin next to the lace at the edge of her neckline until he could feel the swell of flesh at the top of her corseted bosom. He had never before attempted such a liberty.
Elizabeth shivered again and felt somehow both alert and dizzy at once.
The couple pulled away from each other, shocked—Darcy by his near loss of self-control, and Elizabeth by the fierce desire he ignited. “I am sorry!” he blurted. “Now I must leave with you thinking me a terrible scoundrel.”
She looked down, smiling. “No, sir, I would not have you think so.” She paused before admitting, “I am rather wondering why you did not try something of the kind before. I see where your eyes wander, Fitzwilliam; I am not blind.” She did not mention she would have allowed more; at least a little more, she admitted to herself.
Darcy’s eyes narrowed, and he smiled only enough to deepen his dimples. “In a fortnight, Miss Bennet, you may regret teasing me in this manner.”
“I am accused of teasing you? Oh no, Fitzwilliam, this will not do. My hand on your collar is not at all the same as your hand upon my”—she hesitated, but a better word would not arise—“collar.” She could no longer meet his gaze. “I scare myself,” she whispered somewhat ruefully, more to herself than him.
Darcy mistakenly inferred she was alluding to her dream. “I would like to imagine your dreaming of our wedding night again while I am gone if it no longer alarms you.”
“It was not our wedding night, I think, in the dream.” Elizabeth had not revealed to Darcy that she was experiencing many more dreams of their intimacy since the first, which affected her in so profound a manner. The recent dreams felt more romantic and less like reality, leaving her wishing for more sensation, such as she was experiencing at present. The touch of his finger near her bosom had produced such stirrings as she had never felt before, except perhaps in sleep.
The Darcy carriage came around the end of Longbourn from the stables. Damn it! “Dearest Elizabeth, if I am able to come back even an hour sooner than planned, rest assured I shall.” Now there were footmen opening doors for him and waiting. He took Elizabeth’s hands, kissing them reverently.
“I shall write to you,” she smiled bravely, raising her chin. “I love…” Her chin quivered, and she could not finish. She took a deep breath, pulled the lapels of his greatcoat to lower his ear to her mouth and whispered, “How dare you begin to touch me in that way and just…leave?” She turned on her heel and returned to the house without looking back.
Darcy stared at the firmly closed door. What did she say? She was not teasing; she was serious. That much he knew. By the time the carriage reached Netherfield, he deduced he had been scolded for not seeking further liberties. “Ha!” he exclaimed as he exited the carriage. She is a wonder…
***
Elizabeth flew up the stairs of Longbourn and went directly into her room. Although provoked to slam the door, she did not, for she did not wish anyone to know she was disquieted, with the exception of the man riding away in his coach. She had no doubt that, had she wished, she could have slammed the door full loud enough for him to hear it over the clopping of the horses’ hooves. Without hesitation, she sat at her escritoire and pulled out a sheet of parchment.
14 November 1812
My dearest Fitzwilliam,
Elizabeth looked at her handwriting, and realised she was about to compose her first letter to Darcy, and a love letter, at that. She felt inclinations of desire adrift within her and decided, although it was against all notions of propriety to express such sentiments, she would not refrain.
You have just driven away, and I must let you know that your merest touch has awakened in me such feelings— I am shocked to admit it but shall not keep it from you. Until tonight, my waking thoughts of your expressions of affection have limited themselves to your warm kiss and the secret thrill when you breathe upon my neck. I have dwelt upon these things when alone ever since you first kissed me weeks ago, and these actions affirm my knowledge of your regard in a way much different from your words of love or any talk of excessively generous marriage settlements.
Tonight you went further. Your touch filled me with the strangest need for you, which I cannot explain away. To have it happen now, when you are to be gone from my side for
a full week, is a torture most cruel.
These are feelings a maiden ought not express to her betrothed, yet there they are, and you have often said you wish to be told my sentiments and preferences, no matter the kind. My preference, my dearest, is for you to touch me as you did tonight, but not when you must leave me within minutes. Surely, such sensations deserve to be lingered over.
Often I find myself worrying what you would think of me if you knew my dreams. They are just dreams and do no harm, but I do dream of us. There have been other dreams since the first, though none so disturbing or improper. But your touch tonight was an all-too-brief waking version of similar liberties I have already allowed you whilst I sleep. Perhaps when you come back to me, I shall relive those recent milder dreams while awake? You are the experienced one, and I trust you will know best which expressions of love should be allowed between us, and which must wait.
When you return, there will indeed be a great deal less time to wait, and I feel I shall still have many lessons to learn about being a loving wife.
Your adoring pupil,
E.B.
Elizabeth sat, breathing quickly. Her desire was there on the pages for him to read. She felt the sentiments swirling within her would subside upon being put to paper, but they did not. Before she could think twice, she folded and sealed the letter, addressed it, and quietly descended the stairs to place it on the salver in the foyer for the morning’s post.
She slept, when at last sleep did come, with her hand over the path of his finger.
Chapter 10
An Eventful Week…part one
“To be a well-favoured man is a gift of fortune; but to write and read comes by nature.”
William Shakespeare
Much Ado about Nothing
Fitzwilliam Darcy’s mind was still enflamed by Elizabeth’s parting words as he drove his horse towards London the next morning. His heedless touch of her neckline had opened a door of intimacy between them, and he wholly understood and shared her annoyance at the arrival of the carriage outside Longbourn. But if he had not tried her forbearance, he would not have learnt her desires. How delightful to know she would allow something more. He was well exercised and light of heart by the time he reached the cobbled streets outside town. Darcy went directly to his solicitors, Steveton & Sons, still grimy from the road but unconcerned. He had sent an express two days previously, alerting them as to what was required and stating when he expected to arrive in their offices.
Longbourn to London Page 10