by Ola Wegner
Elizabeth spoke nothing, all range of emotions crossing her face. A few times Darcy felt her attempting to release her palm from his grip, but he did not let her, only reaching for her free hand and placing it upon his chest, next to the other. “Now I think I was just making excuses against our union, because I was terrified of how strongly I have felt for you. And yesterday, when I realized how close I was to losing you to another, I finally saw what fool I was.” He took a deep breath, whispering fervently. “Please tell me it is not too late, promise you will become my wife.”
She freed her hands and walked away from him, speaking clearly with her back to him. “Mr. Darcy, I cannot promise you anything. I am practically engaged to another.”
“You said you were not,” Darcy insisted, crossing her way, trying to meet her eyes.
“I said that there was no official announcement of the engagement,” she clarified. “However, Mr. Brooke proposed to me, and I accepted. It was my father who insisted on delaying the official announcement until my return from Kent.”
“Has he got something against Mr. Brooke?” Darcy asked sharply.
She shook her head. “No, it was rather that he doubted whether I was entirely sure of the decision, and that is why he withdrew his consent for the time being. His explanation was that he wanted to give me the time to consider everything thoroughly again. The trip to Kent seemed to be an excellent opportunity for this.”
“Your father is a wise man,” Darcy said in a calmer voice. “I would/will be grateful to him till my last days.”
“It does not change the fact I gave my word to Mr. Brooke,” she reminded him.
“Do you care for him?” Darcy asked without preamble. “And please do not say it is not my business to ask you so.”
“I respect him,” Elizabeth spoke smoothly, in a sure voice. “I value his reasoning, and I enjoy his company. He has been very good to me and my family.”
“But do you love him?” he insisted.
It took her a moment to respond, but with a shake of her head she said clearly, “No.”
“Do you love me?”
“No… Yes…” she hesitated. “I do not know. I mean, I am confused.”
Darcy took a deep breath and asked patiently. “Do you think you could come to love me one day?”
Now her answer was clear. “Yes,” she said, meeting his eyes.
“Oh, my dearest, loveliest Elizabeth,” he murmured, stepping towards her, pulling her decidedly into his arms. Her eyes widened in surprise, and she pushed at his chest in a momentary panic. But he ignored her resistance, hushing her. Leaning towards her face, his lips sought hers persistently, till she turned her face to him, so he could kiss her.
Darcy took his time and care to make the kiss memorable, coaxing her lips gently to open, stroking her cheek, pressing her small body against his large one, kissing her neck, stroking her back, eliciting some small gasps from her. He put his best effort into the job, wanting to make sure she would not wish to be held by another ever again.
When he finished and lifted his head, looking down at her, her reaction was all that he wanted. She was practically sagging against him, her dark eyes unfocused and misty, staring into his without comprehension, her pretty, delicate lips, swollen.
Very gently, he gathered her to him again, resting her head on his chest, wrapping his arms around her. Only then, did he realize how slight and small she was. Of course he had always been aware that she was not among the tallest of people, even for a lady, but when she stood by him like that, she barely reached his chest.
“What now?” she spoke first, in a lazy whisper, her words muffled against his coat.
Darcy looked down at her. “I know it would be an unpleasant situation for you, my love, but you will have to inform Mr. Brooke about your change of heart.”
“I do not want to hurt him,” she said worriedly. “I believe he genuinely cares for me.”
He stroked her face. “I can well believe this. I doubt there is a man in the world who would not come to love you.” He kissed her lips lightly. “I know you possess a tender heart, but it is better to do it sooner rather than later. Perhaps you wish me to talk to him? I will gladly do this to spare you distress. The blame for this situation is all mine, after all. Had I not abandoned you last autumn, we would probably have been engaged for some time, or perhaps even already married.”
Hearing his words, Elizabeth frowned. “I am afraid that you presume far too much, Mr. Darcy. I have not agreed to marry you yet,” she said sternly, but with a shadow of smile in her eyes.
“Forgive me.” He nuzzled her neck. “I shall wait as long as you need to feel ready to marry me.”
Elizabeth’s expression clouded, as if she had remembered about something unpleasant, and she spoke in dead seriousness. “Mr. Darcy, there are things we have to talk about and explain before I can accept you. I would like to ask you a few questions.” She looked straight into his eyes. “Questions concerning the life you led before we met.”
Darcy held her gaze, clearly surprised with the turn of conversation. “I have no secrets,” he spoke evenly. “You can ask me about anything you wish to know.”
She seemed to calm with his assertion, and this time of her own will, placed her head on his chest. “I will ask, but perhaps not today,” she whispered, her eyes closed. “I will have to go back to the parsonage soon.”
“I will walk you back,” he ensured. “But first…,” he murmured, lifting her against his frame and cupping her face to kiss her again.
Chapter Thirteen
John Brooke stood by the window in the parlour at Hunsford, his gaze concentrated on the attractive couple standing for a long time at the gate leading to the parsonage.
“Oh, there she is, Mr. Brooke,” Mr. Collins spoke from behind his back. “It seems Mr. Darcy, our noble patroness, Lady Catherine’s nephew, was so kind as to walk her down from her walk.”
“Yes, so it seems,” Brooke murmured darkly.
“They must have met accidentally somewhere in the park,” Mrs. Collins said quickly, glancing with slight alarm at their guest’s stormy expression. “Elizabeth will be so pleased to see you. She was not expecting your visit.”
“Yes, I can well believe it,” Brooke said, his eyes narrowing as he observed Darcy following Elizabeth to the house.
Brooke turned from the window, resting his gaze on the door till it opened, and Elizabeth entered with Darcy close behind her.
“Mr. Brooke,” Elizabeth curtseyed, walking to him. “How very unexpected. I thought I should not see you until next week in London.”
Brooke smiled, putting a pleasantly engaging expression on his face. In one long step, he approached Elizabeth closely, taking her hand, and raising it to his lips. “I could hardly stay away from you longer, Miss Bennet. I thought I might convince you and Miss Lucas to return a few days earlier. My carriage is at your disposal.” Saying the last words, he looked over Elizabeth at Darcy, who was standing firmly behind her the entire time. Brooke nodded his head slightly, acknowledging the other’s man presence, and was rewarded with the same serious bow on Darcy’s side.
Elizabeth freed her hand from his, as she stubbornly avoided looking at him. “I am not sure if it is possible, Mr. Brooke,” she said quietly, stepping back. “Everything is arranged for us to return at the end of next week. My uncle is to send a male servant to escort us.”
Brooke took her hand again, closing it within his and stroking the top of her soft palm with his thumb. “Please consider this, my dear. It would be much more comfortable for you and Mrs. Collins’ sister to travel in a private carriage. I, myself, can gladly return on horseback.”
Elizabeth closed her eyes briefly, before opening them, and lifting her head to look straight into his eyes. “Mr. Brooke, I would wish to talk with you in private.” she said decidedly before turning to her friend. “Charlotte, would you be so kind to leave us alone for some time?”
“Of course,” Charlotte agreed i
nstantly. “Mr. Collins, let us take tea in the dining room.” she said, taking her husband’s arm and leading him out of the room. “Mr. Darcy, would you care to join us?” She looked pointedly at the tall man when passing by him.
Darcy placed his hand on Elizabeth’s arm and leaning forward, whispered. “I will be close by if you need me.” Having said that, he gave Brooke one last hard, challenging look, then silently walked out of the room after the Collinses.
The moment the door closed and they were alone, Brooke approached Elizabeth closely, leaning forward, obviously expecting a kiss. She, however, averted her face quickly and stepped away from him, far enough that he could not reach her.
“What is wrong?” Brooke asked, eyeing her carefully.
“I cannot marry you,” she said quickly and then lowering her head, added softly. “Forgive me.”
“You cannot marry me,” he repeated dryly. “I see. Can you give me some explanation why you have changed your mind?”
Elizabeth took a deep breath before she spoke, this time in a clear, if not a very strong voice. “For the last weeks, I have given much consideration to your proposal, and I came to the conclusion that a union between us is not possible. Though I like and respect you, sir, and additionally hold you in high esteem, I am certain I will never be able to have that kind of affection for you which a wife should have for a husband.”
Brooke stepped to her, placing his hands on her shoulders. “Elizabeth, you cannot know that,” he tried to convince her in a warm, patient voice. “You are still very young, and all that can change. On my part, I swear I will do everything in my power to make you happy. Perhaps in time, you could learn to love me as I came to love you.”
Elizabeth walked to the window and stared out of it.
“I was afraid of this separation between us, and I was right,” he continued, coming behind her, feeling her stiffen when he wrapped his arm around her from behind, pulling her to him. “I will not demand anything for which you are not ready,” he whispered into her ear. “You will have all the time you need to get used to me in every respect. You have my word on that.”
Elizabeth broke from his embrace and turned to face him. “The marriage between us cannot be.” she spoke firmly. “I am so…” she looked up at him pleadingly and continued, “...so sorry that I have to cause you pain, but it is utterly impossible. We would be like two strangers living under the same roof. Believe me, I have seen the results of such a union, and nothing good can come of it. I know I would be very unhappy, and I am also sure that I could never make you happy. It is best for both of us to end it now.”
“Be honest with me,” he paused, making sure she looked straight into his eyes. “Is there someone else?”
“Yes,” she said quietly and looked away from him.
“Darcy,” he guessed.
She only nodded. “When I agreed to marry you, I thought I would probably never meet him again.”
“You are sure he will be willing to marry you?”
She nodded again. “He has proposed.”
“I see. I am the inconvenient obstacle for your future happiness.” He did not try to stop the bitterness in his voice.
The tears brimmed Elizabeth’s eyes. “You must believe that I did not want this. I have never wanted to hurt you.”
“Do not flatter yourself,” he said in such a cold tone that Elizabeth felt cold shivers running down her spine. “And do not think it is the end between us.” He cupped her chin between his fingers, making her look directly at him. “I have invested too much of my time and attention into you.” With these words, he stormed out of the room, directing himself straight to the entrance, not speaking with anyone on his way.
Left alone, Elizabeth started to cry, tears running freely down her cheeks without any control on her part. Her vision blurred, but she soon felt Charlotte’s voice enquiring gently, and then she knew it was Darcy by her side. He enveloped her into his arms, and she let out all the pent up emotions, breaking into more tears, effectively wetting his coat and shirt.
“Hush, sweetheart. He is gone. All is well now,” he whispered, kissing the top of her head, rocking her in his arms. “You have been very brave. Now you need to forget about this, and we can be very happy together. Yes?”
She only nodded into his chest, clinging to him, as if afraid to let him go.
***
The next morning, Darcy was attending to the correspondence from Pemberley in the library, when the out of breath, pale as a ghost, Georgiana flew into the room.
“Brother, Elizabeth…,” she uttered, trying to catch her breath.
Darcy stood up abruptly from behind the desk. “Something happened to her?” he cried, seeing the expression on his little sister’s terrified face.
Georgiana put her hand on her chest to calm her breathing and started speaking. “Brother, it is so horrible. I have just seen Elizabeth being abducted by some man.”
Darcy’s face went rigid. “What are you speaking of?” he demanded sharply. “That cannot be.”
Georgiana shook her head. “It is true, Brother. I was on my way to meet her at our usual spot, and I saw her nearly a quarter mile from myself, on the other end of the road leading to the parsonage. I was about to call to her, but suddenly a carriage drove past me at great speed. It stopped by Elizabeth, and a dark dressed man came out of it. They talked shortly, and then he simply took her forcibly into his arms and dragged her into the open carriage door. She struggled, and I believe attempted to scream, but soon he pulled her inside, and they drove away. I cried and ran after them, but they soon disappeared by the turn of the road.”
Darcy stared at her in tension, before speaking calmly. “Did you see the man?”
“Hardly. But he was big, as tall as you, and quite old. His carriage looked expensive, even luxurious. Oh, Brother, who could do something like this to her, and why?”
“When was it?” he asked, ignoring her question, his face an unreadable mask.
“I am not sure,” she frowned in concentration. “I ran here as soon and as quickly as I could…, so perhaps half an hour ago, or even less.”
“Do not worry,” Darcy placed a distracted kiss on the top of his sister’s head. “I will find her,” he said, running from the room, leaving a still shaking Georgiana alone.
***
Elizabeth was tossed not so gently into the carriage. John Brooke climbed after her and gave the driver the sign to drive on.
She leaped to the other end of the carriage, trying to open the window and scream for help, but before she could open her mouth, the big hand clasped over it, and an iron arm wrapped around her. She struggled against him as long as she could, but in vain. Her captor was simply stronger than she.
At last, her strength seemed to abandon her, and she ceased her fight. Only then did he let her out of his grip, allowing her to move into the far corner of the carriage.
“Where are you taking me?” she whispered.
“London,” he answered calmly, not even bothering to look at her. “We will be married tomorrow morning. I have already acquired the special license. Till our wedding, you shall stay at my townhouse. Your reputation will be entirely ruined, and, simply, you will have no other choice but to obediently marry me,” he informed her calmly.
“Let me free!” Elizabeth cried with new found energy, but he ignored her.
“I demand to be released!” she cried again desperately.
“I told you yesterday that I invested too much time into you to just let you go. I want to have a gentleman’s daughter as my wife, and I will,” he informed her. “And remember this well,” he paused menacingly. “I always get exactly what I want. You can say that it is a matter of principle for me.”
“I will run away!”
“Elizabeth, be reasonable about this.” Now he sounded almost gentle. “My promise stands, I will do everything to make you pleased, safe and happy. In no time, you will forget about him.”
“I will not!” she deni
ed heatedly. “I will always love him, and I will never marry you. He will come after me.”
“I seriously doubt it,” he said flatly. “Even if he decides to take any action, it will be too late anyway. Knowing your love for long walks, it will take them several hours, at least, to discover that you are gone. By the time he finds you, though I do seriously doubt whether he cares enough to take the trouble, you will be safely married to me. Now come to me, Elizabeth.” He gestured towards her. “I want to show you that our life together does not have to be so bad as you imagine.” Having said this, without preamble, he pulled her forcibly into his arms and started roughly kissing her.
“Do not fight me,” he murmured, when her body started twisting desperately in his hold, her hands pushing at him. “Be nice, or I will take you even before the wedding,” he threatened her. “You do not really want your first time with a man to be on the floor of a running carriage, do you?”
Elizabeth gasped and stilled in horror. He used it, effectively pushing her flat on her back on the seat, covering her small body entirely with his.