by J Dawn King
Elizabeth tilted her head to the side and raised her brow. “What are you thinking, sir?” Her voice was stern.
“I may not know your family well, my dear, but I do know my aunt. When she finds out I will be marrying a relative of Mr. Collins, the man will no longer possess the living at Hunsford. My aunt will see to that.”
“But, sir. Once a living is given, it cannot be taken away.” Elizabeth’s confusion was easy to see. Darcy understood. The law was the law.
“This would be so if you were anyone other than Lady Catherine de Bourgh. She has long marched to her own tune, making and breaking laws at her whim. Because she is a force of nature in her own right, few have made the effort to correct her. It is why I have had such a time convincing her I will not marry my cousin. She simply refuses to listen.”
“How will this affect my father?”
“I have no doubts Mr. Collins will accompany my aunt. When he no longer has a position, I will merely remind Mr. Bennet of his offer to house his cousin until the time the estate passes to him. Whether or not Mr. Collins takes
the name of Bennet or not, he will live at Longbourn. I cannot see there ever being peace and quiet for your father.”
A chuckle burst from Elizabeth. “Nor will he remain undisturbed.” Her smile beamed forth. “You are a wicked man, Mr. Darcy.”
“A wicked man, Elizabeth? Surely not!” Warmth filled his chest where the lonely hole he had carried so long had been. Lord, but she delighted him!
“As you were strong and wise for me on this day, Fitzwilliam, I will be your rock when Lady Catherine and Mr. Collins comes. Together we will be formidable.”
Darcy was overwhelmed. Never had he thought he would find such a woman, nor that she would be his own. He could not wait to marry her and take her to London. It was an easy step to envision days and weeks spent with his wife and his sister. Days filled with intelligent conversation and kind attention. He sighed aloud. His wife!
“What are you thinking, Fitzwilliam? You have the most beatific smile on your handsome face.” Elizabeth leaned her face into the hand he still held there. He responded by rubbing his thumb across her cheek.
“I am thinking of the fundamental difference between your father and me. Where he has viewed the future of his family with regret and shame for his inattention, I look to our future with pleasure. Each time Georgiana and I spoke of you, which was quite often, she would always express a desire for me to find you so you could become the best of friends. Now you will be sisters. I could not be happier, Elizabeth.”
“Then I am pleased for both of us, sir.” Elizabeth paused. “Do you not worry that this is taking place so rapidly?”
“I do not!” His voice held no hesitation. “For, think, Elizabeth. In the two days I have been in your presence, we have quickly learned to express ourselves honestly and without fear. I know few marriages where the partners do so, even marriages of many decades. How can we not do well with such a magnificent start?”
“Your point is well made, Fitzwilliam.” She smiled up at him. “I have told you things I have never shared with Jane, and we are the closest of sisters.”
That made him proud and he could feel his chest swell at the thought.
“Yes, dear Elizabeth, this is fast, but I believe we are both committed to the happiness of the other. How can we fail?”
“Love never fails.” Elizabeth whispered of one of Mary’s favorite Biblical texts. It was a universal truth; something reliable and unmoving.
She did not know she had said it aloud until he asked her, “Do you love me, Elizabeth?”
She hesitated before she answered. “I will reply honestly, Fitzwilliam. I have never felt these emotions in my lifetime.”
“What emotions?” He had to know.
“Tenderness, Fitzwilliam.” Her eyes…those sparkling, vibrant orbs glistened with emotion. “My heart is full of such sweetness and my soul yearns to cherish you in the same way you have done for me. Whether it is love or not, dear man, we have laid a foundation of stone which we can build upon.”
Darcy nodded. It was enough. “My father told me many times that the day he and my mother wed, he thought he could not possibly feel more love for a woman than he did at that moment. Then he would laugh at what he thought was true love as each passing hour brought a depth, height, and width he never knew existed. When my mother died, he told me that then he knew love.”
“What a lovely story. I will treasure those words in my heart.” She moved even closer to him. “Do you not believe in your soul that we will do the same?”
“I do.” Instinctively, Darcy started swaying back and forth, rocking her in his arms. He thought back on his youth. “I cannot say their marriage was without discord as I remember many times they disagreed on subjects small and large.”
“I believe we will do the same.” She sighed into his coat.
“I do as well, dear woman.” He smiled into her hair. “And I hope we resolve these differences the exact same way.”
“Oh, how is that?” Elizabeth pulled back to look him in the eye. “You have stirred my curiosity and it demands satisfaction.”
“With a kiss.”
“Oh!” Elizabeth mouthed the word.
It was temptation incarnate. Her lips were rosy and full. He could not help but gather her closer, lowering his head a fraction.
“May I kiss you?” It came out a whisper.
“Yes, Mr. Darcy. I wish you would.”
And he did.
CHAPTER EIGHT
When Elizabeth’s mind cleared of its passionate haze, she realized that, against the chill in the autumn air, Darcy’s lips were incredibly warm—and soft—and firm. And they deliciously fit hers perfectly. She wanted to sigh or swoon—or perhaps, both.
She had no will to look away from him. His eyes revealed all his emotions and were filled with the pleasure of their agreement and their kiss. She loved his smile, which currently covered his face. Apparently he loved her kiss as well. She could not help but smile in return.
Eventually, Elizabeth became aware of tapping on the large drawing room window, which sounded like loud explosions in the walled garden.
Both her and Darcy turned their heads to look at the house as Mrs. Bennet’s squeals accompanied Lydia’s staccato beats on the pane. Their intimate moment had been interrupted.
As they walked closer to Longbourn, they easily discerned the activity inside.
“I want someone to kiss me like that, Mama.” Lydia bellowed into the glass, her forehead bumping the pane for emphasis. “I want him to be rich and tall; an officer with yellow hair and blue eyes. A handsome man who adores me and loves to dance.” The youngest Bennet continued voicing her opinions. “Lord, how ashamed I would be if I was not kissed like that before I was Lizzy’s age.”
“I want an officer too.” Added Kitty into the fray, only her voice was muffled as she was not so close to the glass. It came out sounding like, ‘I want an off tooth’, which was ridiculous.
“Girls! Girls!” Mrs. Bennet insisted on having her say. Her voice was so loud she was easily heard outside the house. Now that Elizabeth would not be marrying Mr. Collins when he returned from Kent, Mrs. Bennet sought to benefit her family by this union and match him with her middle daughter. “I cannot imagine what Mr. Darcy sees in her. I would think it better if Jane was to be his wife and mistress of his large estate. Nevertheless, once Lizzy is married, she can invite you to Mr. Darcy’s house in town to put you in the way of other rich men. Mr. Collins can have Mary.”
Pangs of embarrassment shot through Elizabeth at the unrestrained conduct of her sisters and mother. She watched as Kitty and Lydia joined hands and jumped around the room, proclaiming in a sing-song voice about all the balls and parties they would be attending.
Mary was heard denying all desire to marry the rector, her countenance bordering on the comical. Elizabeth had witnessed her middle sister practicing such a pose in the mirror. When asked, Mary said she felt it w
as a pose which she felt gave added credence to her proverbial sayings. Elizabeth thought she looked pious and silly both then and now.
Elizabeth could look no longer and secretly wished herself and Darcy a million miles away.
“My dearest Elizabeth, do not be distressed.” Darcy squeezed the hand he was still holding. “I am marrying you, not your family.” He paused in thought. “I do believe it would be prudent to rethink my plan.”
Panic filled her chest. “You do not want to marry me?”
“Of course I will marry you.” Darcy hurried to reassure her. “What I will not do is reward bad behavior. I can overlook insult to myself and to my property. What I will not condone are any slights to you or to Georgiana, not even from those related to us. Your mother’s words of surprise that I would marry you instead of Miss Bennet anger me beyond measure.”
“What will you do, Fitzwilliam?” They had reached the front of her home. She stopped walking and faced him.
“My first response when I won the privilege of caring for you was to set your mother up in a style superior to what she had known in her marriage so her husband, your own father, would feel the burden of failure.” He acknowledged Elizabeth’s indrawn breath with a nod. “Yes, dear one, in many ways your father has failed.”
“I pray you do not do this, Fitzwilliam, for it would be an unnecessary expense and a lesson wasted on him.” She was learning more with each passing minute about both men. One was honorable and unselfish, while the other had only the appearance of it.
“My belief is the same, Elizabeth.” He gave her hand a gentle squeeze. “Therefore, I will not purchase an estate for Mrs. Bennet. Instead, I will look for a small, well-kept cottage in Meryton, possibly close to Mrs. Phillips. It will be large enough to house all of your sisters, if they are still at home when your father passes away, but small enough to match her thinking towards her second daughter, who, though she is not her mother’s favorite, is most assuredly mine.”
The muscles in Elizabeth’s cheeks were starting to burn from the width of her smile. “Then you believe I deserve a larger home?”
Darcy laughed aloud, his rich baritone ringing through the countryside.
Elizabeth was mesmerized and knew in her heart she could listen to that particular sound for the rest of her life. She would make it a matter of priority to coerce him to repeat the same every day of their marriage. A worthy goal.
“What I believe, my dear, is that Pemberley was made for you; that past generations cultivated and planted solely for your enjoyment.”
How could she not rejoice at such a comment?
“I spent the remainder of the night after the Meryton assembly with my imagination on fire, vividly picturing you in our homes brimming with happy children and love. I even had chuckled so loudly at one point when I considered how unlike myself I was being that it disturbed my valet—and I rejoiced in it, though Parker, my servant for the past twelve years, did not.”
“You silly man!” Immediately her mind imagined the same. “Your words bring me peace. A gift most unexpected.”
“Your family, my dearest, will need to earn the privilege of visiting you. If they cannot or will not recognize your true value, I will not tolerate their company.” He paused in reflection. “I thought of lessons I had learned from Mrs. Northam which apply to our situation. ‘Treat others as you expect to be treated.’ It was Norty’s version of the Golden Rule. We will have peace, my lady.”
Elizabeth thought on his comments and relished his firm commitment to a successful marriage. If only her father would…no, Elizabeth would not go there. She would be leaving Longbourn. Her home was with Darcy.
“Possibly after Lady Catherine has come and gone from Hertfordshire?” Elizabeth could not help but tease.
The exhale coming from Darcy caused his shoulders to drop. Then he squared them in determination. Not even his aunt would rob him of contentment. He would simply not allow it to be so.
“Yes, Elizabeth, only then.” He wrapped her in his embrace.
“I must be off.”
Elizabeth was loath to see him go. However, he had spent so little time at Netherfield Park with his friends that he needed to attend to them, and she knew this. Charles Bingley’s invitation had been, in part, to be in company again with his friend, but the main thrust of the invite was to beg Darcy’s help with oversight of the estate. While he had been raised to care for the responsibilities of landownership, Bingley had not. Yet Darcy had spent the majority of his time in her company instead. She was not complaining.
The groom patiently stood with Darcy’s horse as the couple moved closer. Elizabeth’s discomfort was not solely with his departure. She had been young when she had last ridden and fallen off a horse, now preferring her own legs to the four.
“Elizabeth Bennet. While I deeply appreciate you feeling the loss of my company, I am thinking this is not the sole reason your steps have slowed almost to a halt.” He asked. “You do not ride?”
“Not if possible, sir.” The response was rapid and clipped.
“So you can ride. You just do not like to ride? Is it their height which is bothersome?”
Elizabeth’s laugh had an edge to it.
“My dear man, it is not that they are so tall, for I dearly enjoy being in the topmost portion of the highest oaks.” She swung her arm in an arch encompassing the nearby forest. Then she dropped her chin and looked up at him, her eyes luminescent. “It is that they refuse to stand in one place. A horse moves randomly and rapidly from side to side. I know better to climb a tree when the wind is strong and does the same. Why should I try to sit on the back of an animal who clearly does not want me there as it irritatingly steps wherever it wants?”
***
It was a charming mental picture, though he sensed that a smile or chuckle at her expressions would not be welcomed. He was learning to read her and he thrilled at the thought. Darcy and Georgiana both enjoyed riding the fields and trails of their Derbyshire home. He hoped to share all his daily activities with the woman standing alongside him.
Much had been accomplished since the night before. He had arrived in Hertfordshire as a single man with a large fortune searching for the only woman with whom he wanted to spend time. He had found her in Elizabeth. Now he was returning to Netherfield Park less than four and twenty hours later as an engaged man. Darcy could not be happier.
“Upon my word, Mr. Darcy. Whatever are you thinking?”
“Why?” he challenged.
“We were speaking of horses, yet your face beams with joy, my dear man.” She caressed his cheek lovingly. “Your sister would wonder if she saw you at this moment who this happy man was wearing her brother’s clothing.”
He stepped closer.
“Elizabeth.” He whispered on a breath as he lowered his lips to hers. She melted into his arms and his heart pounded so loudly he feared they could hear it over the three miles to Netherfield Park.
When had he become so tactile? He could not seem to keep the grin off his face and concluded that if he continued, he would gain the reputation of smiling too much. Good! Competition for Bingley and his Miss Bennet.
Finally, breaking away and stepping back, he mounted the horse and stared intently at the woman below him. She was glorious and his heart filled at knowing she would be his.
“I will see you tomorrow, Elizabeth.” His voice was deep with purpose.
“And I will be looking for you, Fitzwilliam.”
With one last glance, he turned and rode away.
***
Elizabeth stood watching him as he took gentle command of the horse. It was a telling move that was one more piece of knowledge to add to those she had learned over the past day. She was surprised when he stopped the horse and rode quickly back.
As he got closer, he slipped his boots out of the irons, grabbed a handful of mane with his left hand, swung his right leg over, and dismounted before the horse had come to a complete stop. Once off, he dropped the reins to
the ground next to where Elizabeth stood, pulled her into his arms, and kissed her with a thoroughness she did not know was possible. By the time he finished, they were both out of breath. He moved his face back to see her eyes. She could still feel his exhalation on her cheek.
“I will write to my man of business tonight, Elizabeth, so we will have a special license and the marriage settlement within a se’nnight. Marry me then?”
She heard his unspoken plea and inherently knew how to respond.
“Will you kiss me as passionately after we wed, Mr. Darcy?” Elizabeth’s eyes twinkled in delight.
“Much more so, my darling almost-wife.”
“Then, yes, Mr. Darcy. I will marry you in one week’s time.”