by Ola Wegner
“Sleep,” she whispered. More than once, she had put one of the Gardiners’ children to sleep, and they enjoyed when she sat by them, stroking their hair. True, Darcy was not a child, but he did not protest in the least.
He had something different in mind, however, as he sat up, hooking his arm around her waist and effortlessly pulling her to lie next to him. She stared in shock as he reached down to remove her slippers, throwing them dismissively on the floor. Then he draped blanket over both of them.
They were lying facing one another, and soon Darcy’s eyelids dropped. He had his arm draped loosely around her waist, and although there was a very little space between their bodies, they were not touching directly.
Elizabeth never went to visit her father’s grave that afternoon. When she woke up from her deep slumber, she realized that it must be almost evening, as very little light was coming through the drawn curtains. She was on her back, feeling hot, with a heavy weight upon her.
Darcy’s dark head was tucked firmly below her chin, resting on her chest, and one arm was thrown over her body. Surprisingly, she could not find anything inappropriate about it. She was not scared. On the contrary, it felt right.
Carefully, she began moving away from him, hoping not to rouse him. Jane knew about her plans of visiting Papa’s grave, so she was not worried that she was gone. However, it was dinner time, and she should have been back some time ago.
“No,” Darcy whispered, his arm curling firmly around her waist.
“I should go,” she whispered back, looking into his sleepy, blinking eyes.
“No,” he murmured again, burying his face into her neck.
She tried to push his arm away from her, using all her strength, but it did not budge even an inch. The only response was him kissing her neck.
“Mr. Darcy, let me go, sir,” she responded with authority. “I have stayed much too long as it is. Jane must be looking for me. She must be worried.” She wanted to say that she should not be found in his room, lying together with him in his bed, but then she bit her tongue. Her mother would undoubtedly be more than pleased with such a development.
Suddenly his weight was taken off her, and he lifted up, supporting his frame on his elbow. “I would wish you to call me by my given name when we are alone,” he spoke straightforwardly. “You still refer to me as Mr. Darcy, even when we are like this.” His eyes raked over her body sprawled along his.
She smiled. “How is your headache, Fitzwilliam?” she asked, sitting up.
Sometime during their nap, they must have kicked the blanket down, as it was on the foot of the bed. Her skirt and petticoats hitched up, showing her stocking-clad feet and lower calves.
She noticed that he stared down at her feet with intensity. She glanced down at them, hoping the there was no tear in her stocking, as it was her second best pair. Her legs looked the same as usual; she could not guess why he found them so interesting. She reached to push her skirts down, and this, at last, brought his attention back to her face.
“Your headache?” she repeated.
“Much better, love. I think that your way of healing it was the best possible. You must promise me to always treat me like this.”
The warmth filled her chest at his affectionate words, his kind expression.
“I am glad that you feel better,” she said, moving to the edge of the bed.
Before her feet touched the floor, he was behind her, his arm wrapped around her waist. “Stay,” he whispered, nuzzling the nape of her neck.
She stiffened instantly. “You said whenever I was ready…” she reminded him.
He moved around her, cupping her face. “You misunderstood me. I meant to ask you to stay a bit longer with me. I would never force you into anything you are not ready for.”
She searched his face for a longer moment, but as his expression was sincere, she calmed down. “I stayed longer than I should have in the first place. You know that we should not be alone like this.”
He lay back on the bed with exasperated sigh. “We are not doing anything wrong,” he groaned. “I wish to be at Pemberley already, not asking anyone whether I can spend time with you or not.”
She smiled, shaking her head. “Where is the very proper Mr. Darcy I know?”
He leaned back to her. “Who said that I was proper?” he questioned softly. “Do I give you such an impression?”
His eyes bore into her face and she could not break the eye contact.
“I am not at all that proper as you may think, Miss Bennet,” he whispered into her ear.
Before she knew what was happening, she was lying on her back, with him hovering over her.
He kissed her forehead, her nose and captured her mouth. As he was supported on his arm, his free hand moved down her body. He did not touch her bosom, but traced his fingers close by it.
Blinking her eyes, she stared at the ceiling, concentrating on the sensation of his mouth on her neck, and shoulder, and his hand splayed on her lower stomach. She knew that she should end this, but she could not summon a force to ask him to stop. She felt dizzy, and so good with his attentions. What was she doing? It was the day of her father’s funeral, and she was allowing this man to do such intimate things to her.
“Mr. Darcy, are you there, sir?” Jane’s faint voice was heard from the corridor. “I am looking for Elizabeth.”
He lifted up, responding in his usual tone. “I will be right with you, Miss Bennet.”
He kissed her mouth one more time, a short sweet kiss, his hand running down her body one last time, making her shudder violently as it skimmed over her breast.
She was still on her back, not able to move as he walked across the room.
“Forgive me for interrupting your rest, Mr. Darcy,” Jane spoke as Darcy opened the door. “Lizzy has not yet returned from her walk. I have been to Papa’s grave, but she was not there. I thought to ask you before alarming Mama and the girls. She is never back from her walks so late.”
Jane was speaking quietly, but quickly, and Elizabeth could hear the fear in her sister’s voice.
Elizabeth walked from behind Darcy. “I have been here with Mr. Darcy, Jane.”
Jane’s pretty mouth fell open, and she stared at her with round eyes. It lasted only a few moments before she composed herself. “Of course. Forgive me.” She turned on her heel, and hastily scurried down the hall.
Darcy closed the door.
“Are you afraid of what she will think?” he asked.
Elizabeth shook her head. “Jane will understand once I explain to her that you did not feel well, and that is the reason why I stayed with you. She is not one to judge others easily.” She smiled ruefully. “Not like me.”
He pulled her to him, wrapping his arms around her. “Thank you; that was a wonderful afternoon.”
She frowned.
“Forgive me. I should not have said that, especially today, the day of your father’s funeral.”
“And the day of your aunt’s visit,” she remarked.
He nodded. “That too. I simply cannot help feeling overjoyed when we seem to be growing closer.”
She smiled, not being sure how to answer him. “Will you go downstairs for dinner?” she changed the subject.
He hesitated. “Can I eat here?”
“Naturally, I shall send the tray.” She lifted on her toes to kiss his cheek. “Goodnight.”
“Goodnight, love,” she heard, as she was closing the door.
Chapter Twelve
The week after Mr. Bennet’s funeral turned out to be very busy for both the Bennet women and Mr. Darcy. Elizabeth did not know what to think about the fact that her mother had no wish to linger in Longbourn. When Darcy asked whether or not she was ready to look at the available houses in the neighborhood, she was more than eager to begin the search.
After a few days, it was decided that the Bennets would move to Purvis Lodge, with the house being refreshed for the new inhabitants. Elizabeth felt ill in her stomach every time s
he heard her mother speaking about the move. Her mother was much too demanding, in her opinion. When Mrs. Bennet announced that she wanted new wallpaper in all the downstairs rooms of her new home, Elizabeth thought that she was about to lose control over herself and physically harm her. It was the first time ever, when she had a strong urge to do something violent to the woman who was her mother in order to stop her from speaking. It bothered her to the core and shamed her deeply that Darcy paid for every single thing. She cringed inwardly, her cheeks flaming, every time Darcy discussed the new expenses with her mother or Uncle Philips who dealt with the legal side of all the arrangements.
Darcy was delicate enough to never mention financial matters directly to her. They talked about everything but the current situation. She often asked him about his sister and Pemberley, as he was always happy to talk about it. She learned a lot about his childhood, his youth, about his university years and how he had formed his friendship with Mr. Bingley. Her impression was that he was a very private person, very thoughtful, controlled, well organized and sensible.
She agreed readily when he tentatively proposed the wedding date for the last Sunday of May. She wished to fulfill her part of the bargain and have it done with. Once she was his wife, she would not feel so indebted to him. She would miss Jane and her younger sisters, being so far away from them in Derbyshire. However, she was relieved to be soon separated from her mother. It pained her that they had grown even more apart since Mr. Bennet’s death. She doubted whether it would ever change.
One day, just before his scheduled trip to London, Darcy asked her to accompany him to Meryton. He had one last appointment with Uncle Phillips concerning legal matters, and wanted to buy a present for his sister. He claimed that he brought her a present from his every trip since she had been a baby.
Without surprise, her mother acclaimed the idea of them going together to Meryton, and they left shortly after breakfast. Elizabeth felt guilty about leaving Jane alone with all the packing. Her mother liked to direct others, giving instructions how things should be done, but she was not much real help, the same as the younger girls. Jane could really count only on Mary.
“My sister wants to meet you,” Darcy informed her as they stepped on the road leading directly to Meryton.
She looked up at him. “She does?”
“Oh, yes,” he assured with enthusiasm. “I received a letter from her yesterday. I will show it to you later if you wish.”
“The wedding is in little more than two weeks,” she reminded him. “We will meet soon.”
She had thought about inviting Darcy’s sister here; however, she was not certain how Darcy felt about it. Despite his generally polite behaviour towards everyone, she knew that he looked down on the society in Meryton. Perhaps he did not wish to expose his sister to such company. Moreover, as they were in the middle of the move, admitting any guests was rather troublesome at the moment.
He stopped, looking down at her. “I was thinking about you two meeting sooner.”
“Oh,” she responded, waiting him to say more.
“As you know, I am going to London tomorrow, planning to return a day before the wedding.” He closed the space between them. “Come with me. I cannot bear to think that we would be separated for two long weeks.”
“Fitzwilliam, I am not certain whether it is the best idea,” she said slowly. “Jane needs me. There is so much to do.”
“I am sure that your mother and sister will manage with the move. They have friends and family here, they can count on them. There is Bingley too, if they need more assistance.”
“I would have to stay with the Gardiners,” she said more to herself than to him, considering his words.
“They will welcome you.”
“I would have to ask Mama,” she murmured, knowing very well that her mother would not protest such plans. On the contrary, she would probably allow her to live with Darcy at his house even before the wedding.
“You could ask your aunt to help you complete your new wardrobe while in Town.”
She blanched at his suggestion. “I do not need anything.”
“Elizabeth, you are expected to dress in a certain way as my wife. You need more dresses than you have now. Everyone in Derbyshire must know from the first glance that you are the mistress of Pemberley.”
His voice was neutral, and she did not think that he tried to purposively offend her with his words; still, she felt as if he was ashamed of her because of her wardrobe. She glanced down at the dress she was wearing. It was one of her older ones which had recently been dyed black. She thought it did not look that bad with the new black one-inch ribbons attached along the hem, sleeves and the décolletage.
“I do not know much about women's fashion, but it will take time to make all the things you need. When Georgiana orders her dresses, it always takes a few weeks to have them made, and there are always several adjustments needed in the process. The sooner the process begins, the faster we can set out for Derbyshire for the summer. I have not been home in a long time. I am needed there. Moreover, I cannot wait to show my home to you.”
Elizabeth gazed at the ground with a heavy heart. He wanted to spend even more money on her. She did not like it. She was in no particular mood for shopping either. On the other hand, she had promised herself that she would be a good wife to him so that she might repay him for his generosity. If he thought that she needed new clothes so that she did not to bring shame to him, then she would not argue on that point.
Leaving tomorrow only to return a day before the wedding would mean that she would be separated from her family sooner than planned. Although she would miss Jane, she knew that her sister was happier now with Mr. Bingley returned to Netherfield; but still, Jane was the closest friend Elizabeth had in the world. However, if she did Mr. Darcy’s bidding, making him pleased with her, then perhaps he would be willing to invite Jane to Pemberley in the future for a prolonged stay.
“Very well,” she smiled at him. “I will go with you tomorrow.”
His face broke into a wide smile, “Thank you, dearest.” Quickly, he looked around, surely to check whether the road was empty, and bent his head to place a sweet, short kiss on her lips.
As they walked, Darcy seemed perfectly at ease, being silent and as usual, it was Elizabeth who started the conversation first.
“From what you told me, I understand you and your sister must be very close. I wonder whether she is not apprehensive about your marriage, about another woman taking your attentions.”
“That is not the case, I assure you,” he responded spiritedly. “She wants me to be happy. I think that she was concerned over my loneliness. She looks forward to meeting you.”
“What did you tell her about me?”
“Not much, but those few times I mentioned you, was more than I ever spoke before about any other woman to her. Her conclusion was that I was in love with you.”
“I can hardly believe that I was the first woman you mentioned to her,” she responded lightly.
He seemed confused. “Why?”
“You are a man who has lived in the world. I am certain have you met at least a few women who drew your interest enough to mention them casually to your sister.”
“Yes, it is true. You were the first lady worth mentioning.”
She narrowed her eyes as she glanced up at him. He sounded so self assured, and yet she found his words hard to believe. He was walking, looking straight ahead, in this confident fluid stride, so characteristic to him.
“In that case, you must have most particular tastes as far as women are concerned,” she remarked, using her most playful tone. “May I guess that you do not like those who are claimed classically beautiful?”
He gazed down at her, his eyebrows drawn together in obvious confusion. “Huh?”
“Because you would have taken interest in Jane, and not me,” she answered his unspoken question. “I remember being only tolerable in your opinion, but not handsome enough to be danced
with, when we first met.”
He paled visibly. “How do you…?” he mumbled, and then he hung his head down. “You overheard me. I apologize; you should not have taken it personally. I was in a foul mood that evening. I hate when Bingley drags me to those social functions. I dislike balls, meeting new people, especially dancing with women I know little about,” he confessed.
She smiled brightly at him, wanting to show that she was not angry. “I think that you have changed your mind about my person.”
He smiled back, relieved. “Indeed, I have. I think that you are one of the most handsome women of my acquaintance.”
Handsome was not beautiful, but as she knew that she could be called only pretty on her good days, she did not mind his honesty.
“I dare say that you like women who never agree with you, who like to contradict you.”
He smirked. “You may say so; it certainly drew my attention to you in the first place. However, I quite enjoy the moments when you are compliant and allow me to lead the way.”
She blushed, remembering the recent kisses and embraces they had shared. He certainly had led the way those times, as she had no experience on her hands.
“Summing it up, I am the first woman of your acquaintance who ever dared to contradict you?” she asked archly.
He frowned, thinking for a moment. “Yes, I believe so.”
“The first young single woman of your acquaintance whom you mentioned to your sister?”
He nodded. “Yes.”
She took a deep breath before asking the next question. “The first woman whom you desired?”
He stopped, rooted in place and turned with his body to her. She had his full attention. “You know that I desire you,” he murmured, his eyes burning holes into her face.
She decided not to be intimidated and responded lively. “As I have given some thought to it, I realized that the hard object you frequently press against me indeed is not a large carrot you carry around for your horse's benefit.”
He laughed out loud, throwing his head back. “You are a delightful, woman. I shall never be bored with you at my side, to be sure.” He reached his hand to cup her face. “I wish we were not in the middle of the road. No convenient trees to hide behind.” He shook his head, his eyes gleaming with excitement. “I would think you more shy about these matters, Miss Bennet.”