Compromising Mr. Darcy

by Rose Fairbanks

  In the days since her arrival with Mr. Darcy, she frequently needed the solitude she could only find on a long daily walk. She thought again of her improved opinion of Darcy. She took note of how he tried to be amiable in company now. She could only wish for a way to learn more about him. She realised it mattered little if she learned the nuances of his life. She would have the rest of her life to learn if he preferred Vingt-un to Commerce, but she desired to understand his character more. She now knew he was an excellent brother, very responsible and honourable, and she had always believed he was intelligent and clever. But what made him so sombre at times? Her teasing usually made him smile and sometimes laugh, but she surmised it was not generally his way and desired to understand why.

  They experienced precious little opportunity for actual conversation in the past fortnight. She recalled Charlotte’s words the previous autumn in regards to Jane and Bingley. Elizabeth observed, at the time, Jane’s acquaintance was much too short for her to be certain of her regard for Bingley, but Charlotte argued ‘four evenings together may do a great deal.’ Elizabeth shook her head. As much as she could now agree Jane should have shown her feelings more openly for Bingley, she still disagreed that four evenings constituted enough time to discern a person’s character, or at least the type of evenings she was able to spend with Darcy. Ever vigilant their names not be connected, Elizabeth seldom was able to engage Darcy in conversation. She understood the wisdom of the plan but felt frustrated nonetheless.

  Elizabeth sighed as she considered the contradictions in their situation brought on by the threat from Wickham. It was disconcerting to think that, while her engagement arose out of fear of scandal by the world at large, something equally awful might occur if the world at large knew it. Darcy explained some of what he learned from his cousin. It now seemed Wickham’s most likely plot, given Lady Catherine’s demand for silence, was to bide his time until Darcy made the first move. Once the engagement was public and known, he would capitalise on his former friend’s desire to preserve his family’s reputation by forcing a marriage with one of her sisters. Wickham must feel as though things were going according to his plan because her sisters still flirted endlessly with him and the other officers. It made her cringe to think their behaviour was even more reprehensible now, flirting with no intent or hope of marriage. And yet to discourage them would draw attention to the fact that their opinion of Wickham had changed and that they suspected his plans.

  She began to climb the summit of Oakham Mount, tearing off the too-small gloves and the stifling bonnet in a flurry to match her vexation. She heard a familiar bark. As she crested the hill, she could not hide the relief on her face and the happiness in her eyes to find an unexpected moment alone with Darcy. Judging by the smile on his face, he too was more than delighted.

  *****

  Alfred bounded over to Elizabeth, who had fast become a favourite of his, and nudged her pocket, expecting a morsel of food.

  Elizabeth stooped to her knees and chuckled, ruffling his shiny fur. “I am sorry, Alfred! I left the house too quickly to think of refreshment.” She glanced up and saw Darcy’s face change from filled with pleasure to etched in concern.

  “What caused you to exit so hastily?”

  Elizabeth chewed her lip; she hated speaking of the subject or even to mention the man’s name. “I viewed my sisters returning from Meryton, and they intended to entertain several officers. There was one in particular I cared not to encounter again.”

  “Do you believe he suspects we surmised his plot?”

  “I can only hazard a guess. I believe, due to his nature of self-conceit, it is unlikely. But you know him better than I, sir. Perhaps you should chance a meeting with him.”

  Darcy sighed and guided her to a nearby bench. “If I had more time, perhaps I might.”

  “Must you leave already?” Her tone was remorseful.

  “I received another letter from my steward. I am not usually gone from Pemberley during the planting weeks, and he requests my presence.”

  Elizabeth’s eyes filled with disappointment, and she lowered them. “Oh.”

  “When I finish at Pemberley, I shall need to attend to my business in Town. I doubt I can return to Hertfordshire for nearly a month.”

  She looked up sharply at him. “So long?”

  He spoke with increasing frustration in his voice. “I am sorry. I am sorry for this whole mess, Elizabeth. You deserve to be courted openly, and we have had so little time together. Now I must go away, and I cannot assure the situation will be any improved by my return.”

  Determination flashed in her eyes, and she laid her hand on his arm. “You will write me, William.”

  Darcy chuckled at her tenacity. “I already wrote a note to your father because I will not have time for a long visit tomorrow. I thought we could use the Gardiners as an intermediary once I return to London.”

  “You will not write from Pemberley?”

  “I fear I would have no reason to correspond with the Gardiners. It may sound ridiculous, but Lady Catherine has attempted to order my life, apparently since I was twelve years old. She found Wickham and masterminded the plot against Georgiana, so I will not assume that she will not consider having the Gardiners watched or attempting to bribe their staff for information.”

  “How did you intend to send letters or receive any through my aunt and uncle?”

  “I did meet them. Paying a call on them when I am next in Town would not be very unusual. I am seen as rather liberal in my friendships.” He spoke to his feet, careful not to allow his pride to resurface, and did not see Elizabeth’s growing smile.

  She replied sincerely, “I know.”

  “I shall greatly miss your company, Elizabeth. I know I am a poor suitor, and we have not had much chance for conversation...but I do enjoy just being in the same room with you.”

  Elizabeth beamed brightly at his words. In the past two weeks, she had learned to hear Darcy’s unspoken words. Other men might flatter more and exclaim that she brightened the room with her very presence, but he did not need to use the words. She knew how he felt; it was evident every time she looked in his soulful blue eyes.

  She was doing it again, and she knew it. He was saying something in his usual awkward manner when he was trying to speak on his feelings. It was so…endearing. He truly was bad with words, unless it was a heartfelt “I love you,” but she had asked him to cease proclaiming it, for she scarcely knew what to say in reply. She was too preoccupied by his mouth, again, to catch all he said. Truly, I shall strangle Aunt Gardiner when I see her next!

  Elizabeth had always been of a curious nature, and it was very difficult not to wonder what his lips might feel like. She may not know much of the acts between a man and a woman in marriage, but she did know kissing was part of it. There was no way to get around the kissing, eventually, so surely it did no harm to imagine it. Her eyes grew wide at the nature of her thoughts, and she commanded herself to pay attention to his words.

  “...and I hope in time to truly earn your respect and affection…” He looked at her so forlorn, as though he were utterly hopeless of earning her admiration.

  Elizabeth suddenly recalled words Charlotte spoke to her about a woman’s ability to conceal her affection from the world. Charlotte argued a lady should not hide her affection from a gentleman the way she would hope to do so from the world. She firmly believed love needed encouragement. Elizabeth knew exactly what she needed to do. She would not show more affection than she felt, but she had apparently concealed her admiration for him from Darcy. The last thing she wanted to do was to discourage his love.

  Darcy stood next to her, but his face overlooked the view instead of her. She pulled on his arm. When he turned, she boldly and quickly leaned into his lips, finally ceasing his distracting mouth from further speech. She did not want him to misunderstand any longer. Just when she was about to pull back, he wrapped his arms around her. He pulled her closer to him, and insistently pressed his lips do
wn on hers.

  His lips were soft yet firm. She never thought a man could be so soft. His hands roamed over her back and sent shivers and sparks with each new stroke. One hand moved to the back of her head, keeping her in place. As if she ever wanted to leave! Her heart was beating so wildly she thought it might leap from her chest. Darcy started sucking on her lower lip, and there was no choice but to let it go slack and allow him to have his way with it. She startled a little when he glided his tongue between her lips, but he held her firmly in place, and she soon felt a delicious warmth envelop her and settle in the pit of her stomach. Elizabeth was vaguely aware that she moaned from the pleasure of it all. And then she suddenly felt cold and alone.

  *****

  Darcy was reeling; the whole earth had shifted. One moment, he was explaining that he hoped the letters might allow her to learn more about him and he to learn more of what would please her in a spouse. The next, she leaned in and bravely kissed him. Her inexperienced lips were the sweetest things he ever tasted. So soft and pliable. He remembered tracing the curve of her slim waist with his hand. How he wanted her! He was never more tempted in his life.

  However, he could not revel in her kisses and the feel of her body right now. He had lost control a moment ago. Her sweet moan was like a siren’s song, but it awoke some honourable sense in him, which made him withdraw. He nearly ran several paces away from her to cool his ardour. He was still breathing heavily, and his arms ached to hold her again, when he suddenly realised Elizabeth was likely confused by his actions.

  He turned to look at her, desperately praying she would not regret their exchange. Elizabeth looked rather dishevelled and overcome. Her hair was already coming down from her exercise, but he recognised he had unconsciously dislodged several pins. She was flushed, and her expression turned from a mixture of confusion, astonishment, and desire towards self-reproach. Thoughts of her regretting their kiss immediately eliminated any remaining feelings of arousal, and he hastened to her side.

  “Elizabeth.” He sat next to her again and took her bare hands, commanding himself not to touch her anywhere else. Think of something. Think of anything to distract yourself. Caroline Bingley! Caroline Bingley in one of her awful orange evening gowns, her sallow skin, and the smirk that makes her look ill. Fortunately, the effect was rather immediate.

  Elizabeth used the silence to calm her breathing, and when Darcy noticed she had almost returned to her usual state he said, “Elizabeth, darling. I…” He was uncertain what to say. He could hardly beg pardon for something he enjoyed so much, something he could never regret. He wanted nothing more than to awaken her passion again and again.

  He leaned forward, kissed her forehead, and smiled when she let out a contented sigh. “Elizabeth, I hope I did not frighten you. I shall manage better in the future, but I must tell you how much pleasure your kisses brought me.”

  Elizabeth smiled mischievously. “William, it was rather obvious to me you enjoyed them.” Then she blushed profusely, stared at her hands, and softly added, “I daresay as much as I did.”

  Darcy stifled a groan and brought up the image of Caroline Bingley latching herself to his arm. “Elizabeth, I must leave you now, lest I take you in my arms again. I shall write to you, and I am determined by the time I leave London to find some way for us to openly announce our engagement.”

  She met his eyes, and he smiled broadly and declared, “The next time I steal your kisses, I want to be acknowledged openly as your betrothed.” Then he lifted her hand to his lips and looked her earnestly in the eye. “I do ardently love you.”

  Elizabeth closed her eyes and after a kiss to the forehead, he commanded his legs carry him down the hill.

  Chapter Twelve

  Wednesday, May 6, 1812

  Elizabeth’s hands trembled a little as she held Aunt Gardiner’s most recent letter. The heavier-than-usual weight testified to her dearest wish: Darcy had recently arrived in London and sent a letter through her aunt and uncle as arranged. Due to the secret nature of her betrothal, reading a letter from a gentleman suddenly felt illicit.

  The past three weeks had passed in the usual pursuits, but Elizabeth could not go about them with her normal complacency. The militia was to remain another fortnight, and Elizabeth’s mother and youngest sisters were eager to enjoy the company of the officers as frequently as possible before their departure. Wickham’s visits to the house were as constant as before she visited Kent. She was anxious he should perceive no change in her conduct towards him, and if she guessed correctly, he felt similarly about his own conduct towards her—he was as friendly as ever. She watched with a discerning eye for any sign of favouritism to her younger sisters but could not see anything out of the usual way. Jane knew it all and was a great comfort her. The common presence of Bingley, to whom Darcy had explained the whole of the matter, and the occasional presence of her father upon Wickham’s visits brought her additional relief. Elizabeth longed for news from Darcy that would end the entire pretence.

  She eagerly tore open the seal and quickly skimmed her aunt’s letter for anything worthy of immediate attention. Satisfying herself that she was not desperate for communication from Darcy, because she did in fact have presence of mind enough to read her aunt’s letter first, she quickly turned to his letter.

  Darcy House, London

  Monday, May 4

  Dearest Elizabeth,

  I hope this letter finds you and your family in good health. I would wish you send my greetings to them, if only matters were different.

  I cannot adequately explain the desolation I have felt since parting from you nearly three weeks ago. For all my steward’s fears, the planting weeks passed without concern, and I hope to complete my business in London in a fortnight.

  I will meet with your uncle Friday to discuss options regarding our dilemma. I greatly look forward to dining with your Aunt and Uncle Gardiner in the coming weeks.

  I find that I am no better a suitor in writing than I am in person. I have no ability to write poetry or turn a pretty phrase. What can I say except that I have spent each day meditating on fond memories of walking and speaking with you, on the sound of your laughter, and the way your fine eyes shine?

  I remain your ardent admirer and greatly look forward to our next meeting.

  F. Darcy

  Elizabeth shook her head in slight exasperation at her betrothed, even as she valued his honesty and lack of guile. Marriage to Darcy would not be a bore. She truly had much to teach him. He must learn to tease, laugh, flirt, and declare his sentiments in writing. She surmised that he travelled frequently and resolved to ask him about it, among many other things, in her reply. At first chagrined over the lack of explicit details regarding Wickham, she soon realised it had more to do with the chance of the letter becoming known than his not trusting her.

  Longbourn, Hertfordshire

  Wednesday, May 6

  Dear William,

  I thank you for your recent letter and kind requests after my family. We are all in good health, and I pray you and your dear sister are also. I must admire the evenness of your writing, as another young lady once did; however, I do not see much proof of words with four syllables, nor is this a long letter! I fear your letter-writing reputation is threatened!

  There is much I need to ask you, much I need to learn of you. Pray, do not judge me too impertinent or curious!

  We once conversed about travel, and I surmised that you frequently journey between Pemberley and London for business. Does your business regularly take several weeks to complete? How do you usually divide your year?

  Pray, do not consider me intrusive if I ask to know more of my future sister and your other family. What were your parents like?

  Now for the important questions every lady must know. How did you ever begin to love me? What set you off in the first place? You easily withstood my beauty, and my manners bordered on incivility. Be sincere; did you admire me for my impertinence?

  Since you believe you a
re not capable of wooing by using your own words, perhaps you might follow my example and borrow the words of the Bard. I share this poem and ask questions about your parents because you have met mine and have seen their marriage. At an early age, I realised the consequences of a marriage where domestic happiness is overthrown; when respect, esteem, and happiness vanish forever. I must tell you that I am gratified by the words you used to reassure me of your certainty of our conjugal felicity when first we arrived in Hertfordshire. I only regret that, at the time, I did not feel capable of trusting my thoughts. Your words were truly providential, as the following sonnet has always represented what I desire in love and marriage and matched your depiction perfectly.

  Let me not to the marriage of true minds

  Admit impediments. Love is not love

  Which alters when it alteration finds,

  Or bends with the remover to remove:

  O no; it is an ever-fixed mark,

  That looks on tempests, and is never shaken;

  It is the star to every wandering bark,

  Whose worth’s unknown, although his height be taken.

  Love’s not Time’s fool, though rosy lips and cheeks

  Within his bending sickle’s compass come;

  Love alters not with his brief hours and weeks,

  But bears it out even to the edge of doom.