One Autumn with Darcy: A Pride and Prejudice Anthology

by Fairbanks,Rose

  “Please do not blame yourself for my selfish fears.”

  “Selfish? No, you could never be selfish.”

  “Oh, but I was. I did not wish to experience your love to only be rejected later. I claimed I thought of your own feelings, but only considered mine. I was afraid, too, and yet I declare my courage always rises to every occasion.”

  Darcy smiled at the image. “What changed your mind?”

  “I had a very enlightening conversation with my mother.”

  “Your mother!”

  “Is it so hard to believe she has some cleverness about her? You may see little resemblance between us, but she is responsible for my upbringing.”

  “I...no, I do not find it so impossible. I must thank her then!”

  Elizabeth laughed. “And Lady Catherine as well!”

  “I will concede your mother talking with you must have been of great use, but I was in no humour to wait. Perhaps my aunt forced you to speak earlier and more passionately than you had anticipated, but it was your father who first gave me hope.”

  “What did he say?”

  “He told me to carefully consider your words. You declared yourself the last woman in the world I ought to marry, yet you did not say I was the last man you desired to marry. After much thought, I determined that I would not give up my fight unless you irrevocably sent me away.”

  Elizabeth blinked back tears. “They have taught us so much.”

  “Perhaps, but I think a part of us understood each other by heart.”

  She still held his hand, and he raised his other to her cheek. His eyes dropped to her lips, and his smile dissolved into a look of tender, but fervent, need. Elizabeth could see he was waiting for some sign of encouragement, of consent, but she could never speak the words. Instead, she turned her head just enough to place a kiss on the palm of his hand that still held her cheek, and she heard him take in a sharp breath.

  She looked into his eyes as he leaned in closer. “Elizabeth,” he said reverently. He was so close she could feel his breath on her cheek, causing her eyes to flutter. He moved his other hand to her face, and now cradled it in his large hands as she held her breath.

  “Elizabeth.” His voice was low and hoarse. He looked at her lips again. “May I kiss you?”

  Slowly he leaned his head still closer, his lips so near that the smallest nod of her head or murmur of assent would make their lips meet. She gave just the briefest tilt of her head, and he pulled her even closer.

  Darcy very softly and tenderly brushed his lips against Elizabeth’s. Instantly, he was addicted. He needed another kiss, and another, and another. They were slow and tentative at first, as he did not wish to frighten her. In truth, he could not help himself. Her kisses were so innocent, so sweet, and she was beginning to respond eagerly to his persistence.

  He drew in her top lip, and she further opened her mouth to him. He stifled a groan at just the hint of moisture on her lips, tantalizing him. Although she made no indication she desired to stop or leave, he found himself gently holding her in place with his hands. His thumbs stroked her silky cheeks. Somehow, through the haze and joy of feeling Elizabeth’s increasing passion, he realized he needed to restrain himself.

  Darcy pulled back and was pleased to hear her breathing was ragged and to see that her face was flushed and eyes were darkened with desire. He could not curb his passion - just one more kiss, he told himself. After his last peck, which made Elizabeth giggle in delight, he looped her arm through his and began to pull her towards the house.

  Chapter Eight

  Wednesday, December 11, 1811

  Longbourn

  Jane sat in the drawing room, nervously twisting her handkerchief. She continually wiped her eyes, but the streams of tears would not cease. If being a Bennet taught her anything, it was to behave as though nothing was amiss. Her every intention was to act as though all was well, even if her face was tear-streaked as she spoke to Mr. Bingley and Miss Darcy.

  Instead of Mr. Bingley being shown in, it was Miss Darcy alone who was brought in and announced by Mrs. Hill.

  “Miss Bennet,” Georgiana said. “Mr. Bingley wished me to give you this letter. He said he would be in the side garden if you wished to speak with him after reading it.”

  Jane took the letter with shaking fingers but could not speak.

  “I understand my brother is speaking with Miss Elizabeth somewhere?” She sounded hopeful, and Jane was pleased to understand that Darcy did not mean to give up on Elizabeth so easily. Jane only nodded her head.

  Georgiana awkwardly stood for another minute, as though she had more to say, but then curtsied and left to Jane knew not where. In any other situation she would be aggrieved at her poor hostessing skills, but today she did not care.

  Tearing open the seal, she found a very neatly written letter. Clearly Mr. Bingley had put much effort into writing it.

  Wednesday, December 11, 1811

  Netherfield Park

  My dearest Angel, My darling Jane,

  When Darcy suggested I return to Netherfield Park, I was at once elated even as fear gripped my heart.

  I must confess there was a mismanagement in my education and, even if there was not, I was not raised to be the heir. My elder brother died unexpectedly four years ago, and Darcy took me under his wing. Being ill-prepared, I have been ever afraid of making mistakes and shaming my family legacy, and I have been diffident in grasping the responsibilities left to me.

  This same cowardliness led me to delay returning to Hertfordshire to discover the sentiments of your heart. Not only are the obligations of a married man a daunting thought, I had a very real fear that you did not care for me at all, as much as we appeared to enjoy each other’s company. I had wished to avoid direct knowledge of my rejection by courting your good opinion. I persuaded myself that you did not care for me, with no word from you on the matter, because of my selfish pride and fears.

  I can finally admit the truth which has terrified me. I love you deeply. I may have thought myself infatuated with other ladies before, but, when worried of the lady’s indifference, I found I never cared enough to seek the truth. With you, I must know. You must tell me. I know you are truly kind and would never wish to pain me, and so I have written this letter rather than importune you with my presence. If you care for me at all, and are prepared to give me a chance to prove my worth, you may find me in the garden we first walked in. If you do not appear, I will know by your silence. I dare not have hope, but at last I have courage.

  I will only add,

  God bless you,

  Charles Bingley

  Jane could scarcely think straight. That Bingley truly did love her, but was in so much doubt as to her returned affections, was hard to credit. Had she truly hidden her feelings so much? He was nearly convinced of her indifference!

  His disappearance had hurt her badly. Jane realized now, Caroline had plotted to kill Jane’s love for Bingley, to cause her to give up her hopes; had his sister also sought to discourage him? Had she truly any right to such hopes, Jane wondered, when she had not encouraged Bingley enough? When, out of her own selfish fear, she allowed him to feel such misery? No! It must not be! She fled the room.

  *****

  Lydia lurked in the hallway outside the drawing room. It was how she always gleaned gossip. Already this morning she learned Elizabeth was in love with Mr. Darcy but had refused his offer of marriage. Now, his sister was in her very home. She pressed her ear against the door to hear the conversation in the drawing room when the door unexpectedly opened, and Lydia nearly fell on top of Miss Darcy.

  “I beg your pardon,” Georgiana meekly whispered.

  Lydia sniffed but allowed Georgiana to entirely exit the room and close the door.

  “So you’re Miss Darcy? I have heard a lot about you.”

  Georgiana coloured, and Lydia smiled.

  “Yes, you should blush. I have heard you were too proud to marry Mr. Wickham and scandalously broke off your engagement
with him!”

  Georgiana sharply looked up. She looked as though she might cry but then shook her head and squared her shoulders.

  “Is there some place we might talk in private, Miss...?”

  “I am Lydia Bennet.”

  “Is there some place we might talk in private, Miss Lydia?”

  Lydia considered for a moment, but then decided it was just as well to speak with one of Mr. Darcy’s relations when another one was out of doors with Elizabeth and his best friend was wandering around in the garden. How odd it was for Longbourn to be so besieged by people of such pride and wealth!

  “This way.” She scurried off and did not even glance back to see if she was followed. Lydia led Georgiana to the old school room. They now used it for large projects, such as modifying gowns for balls.

  “Miss Lydia,” Georgiana began with all the authority of her elder brother, though it was hardly the thing that would work on Lydia. “I do not know what specifically Mr. Wickham has explained to you about the circumstances, but I know his failures have been explained by my brother to both your father and elder sister.”

  Lydia huffed. “Yes, they both declare Wickham is a gamester and has seduced women. But what is this compared to true love?”

  “Oh, and you think you are in love with him?”

  “Every girl in the area is out of their senses about him. Lizzy included! Your brother can only have a chance with her by blackening Wickham’s name, and Lizzy believed him readily enough due to his money, I dare say.”

  Georgiana scoffed. “You truly believe this? Your sister loves my brother! She even wrote of it in a letter!”

  This was the first time Lydia had heard that Elizabeth loved Mr. Darcy, let alone the shocking news that Elizabeth broke with propriety and wrote him a letter. She feigned her calm. “Everyone must have some money to live on; the handsome as well as the plain, the agreeable as well as the disagreeable and spiteful, hateful, haughty creatures.”

  “You mean to insult my brother? He is here now declaring his love once more, and I believe we will soon be family.”

  “The whole neighbourhood hates him!”

  Lydia would have imagined herself in a complete triumph over her companion if Miss Darcy had not turned so red, this time in anger. Lydia did not wonder at the reaction, she had intended to provoke and was pleased to see some youthful spirit emerge from the elegantly dressed lady she had heard was too proud to speak.

  “You know nothing of what you speak! My brother saved me from Mr. Wickham’s evil schemes. Last summer I nearly eloped with him, without informing my brother. Nor would I have had the protection of a wedding settlement, which was his entire goal. I am to inherit thirty thousand pounds and Mr. Wickham, who we have since discovered had a prior acquaintance with my governess at the time, convinced her to take me to Ramsgate for a holiday. There he declared his love for me and I was run away with the romance and delighted in the attention.

  “When William arrived unexpectedly, I happily told him my news. I have never seen my brother so displeased! Mr. Wickham hastily left, never to return. My brother wrote him a letter warning him off and Mr. Wickham only replied ‘The stupid cow is not worth your damned thirty thousand.’”

  She paused and Lydia perceived some tears welling in Miss Darcy’s eyes but they seemed more from anger than pain.

  Taking a deep breath Georgiana continued, “I know not how he has lived since leaving Ramsgate, but I am certain he has done nothing but search for some new heiress to seduce. But with a man so unscrupulous as that, you cannot expect him to genuinely have feelings for a single mortal other than himself. If I had married him, I am certain I would have been left in poverty as he gambled away my fortune. If Mr. Wickham loved anyone other than himself, where is his courage to fight for it?”

  Lydia collapsed onto a chair. She hardly gave credence to Miss Darcy’s words alone, but when combined with the words of her parents and sisters, as well as what she believed she saw in Meryton, Lydia’s beliefs were finally shaken, and she began to see clearly. She had deliberately flaunted propriety out of fear of being found unacceptable. If she knew the looks of dislike she got were either due to disgust at her manners or jealousy at her liveliness, then she need not fear she was disliked for herself and some innate quality within her.

  She could never be as beautiful and sweet as Jane nor as clever and witty as Elizabeth. Mary worked diligently for accomplishments, and Kitty at least was amiable and pliable. Lydia could find no other way to recommend herself but through wildness. And yet, what did casting off propriety nearly gain the young girl in front of her? Lydia had no older and wiser brother to take an interest in her life and save her from scoundrels. She was spoilt by her parents and her sisters, though attempting to guide her, often ignored her.

  What would Wickham, or any man, want with her? Georgiana at least had a fortune. Lydia had read enough novels to finally understand her danger. She would have had no means to induce such a man to matrimony and would have been left ruined with no means for support but through her own self.

  Lydia stood and intended to speak but, feeling the full effects of having inherited her mother’s nerves, she fainted in a heap, leaving Georgiana to sound the alarm.

  *****

  Bingley paced up and down the small garden to the right of Longbourn. On the second story was a window through which he thought he had first glimpsed Jane on the day he returned Mr. Bennet’s call in early October. A little over a week later, he walked with Jane in this garden before the dinner to which the Netherfield Party had been invited. That day he had felt only happiness. When he danced with Jane, he believed her an angel, and every minute in her presence continued to confirm his belief. Now, eight weeks later, and after nearly two weeks of separation from her, he came to believe more in her humanity than ever before. While he had been so busy worrying over her acceptance of him, he never considered how she felt about his actions. Had he wounded his beloved angel?

  A movement caught his eye, and Jane darted into view.

  “Mr. Bingley,” she said without hesitation, and Bingley held his breath.

  “Mr. Bingley, you sir, are a blind idiot! The whole county knows I am in love with you!”

  Her tone was nothing like he ever expected her to use, but then her words were nothing like he ever expected to hear.

  “You love me?”

  “Yes!” she said with enthusiasm. “Yes! I love you!”

  She began to laugh freely, and Bingley joined in, grabbing her hands.

  “I love you, darling!” Feeling uncommonly giddy, he stooped down and kissed her soundly on the lips.

  “Ohh!” she cried in surprise.

  Although blushing, she did not break her gaze with him and he was tempted to kiss her anew. Attempting to redirect his thoughts he thought seriously on her previous words. “Everyone knows you love me? Have they been awful to you while I have been away?”

  She hung her head low. “No, not awful.”

  He gently tilted her head up. “Oh, Jane. You are too kind. How terrible I have been to make you doubt me.”

  “You are here now.”

  “I am! And so are you! But how can you forgive me?”

  “Did I not cause you misery, too?”

  “No, no, the fault was all my own. I assumed your feelings and without even telling you mine. What were you to do?”

  “Well, I...I could have written a letter?”

  Her words sent them both into laughter. It might have been followed by an awkward silence but Jane seemed determined to continue to speak her mind.

  “But...but...I need more time. I believe we both have the courage to declare our feelings, but one letter cannot erase our distrust.”

  “A courtship then?” Bingley cautiously put forth. “As it should have been weeks ago?”

  Her relief was obvious and she agreed with eagerness. “Yes, that is exactly what I would wish.”

  Bingley leaned in for another kiss when suddenly Georgiana was ru
nning from the door and crying in alarm for help.

  *****

  Darcy, Elizabeth, Bingley and Jane all arrived at the door to Longbourn as one.

  “What is it?” Darcy demanded of Georgiana.

  She could only stutter out, “M-m-miss Lydia!”

  “Where?” cried Elizabeth.

  Georgiana pointed to the old school room door, and the group pushed forward. Jane took Georgiana aside and gently helped her sit.

  “Miss Darcy, are you well? You look terribly pale.”

  “I am very frightened. She just collapsed!”

  Lydia did not rouse, and Darcy and Bingley, mindful of her head, carried her to the sofa in the drawing room, the others trailing behind.

  “I will call Hill and my parents,” Elizabeth said while pulling the cord.

  The servant arrived in a moment and was clearly alarmed at the sight.

  “Hill, please ask my parents to attend promptly and fetch Mamma’s smelling salts.”

  Darcy was pacing around the room when Mr. and Mrs. Bennet entered.

  “What has happened?” Mr. Bennet asked.

  “Lydia fainted, only she will not wake,” Jane said.

  By this time the commotion of the house was so great that Mary and Kitty entered the room as well.

  “Thomas! What are we to do?” Mrs. Bennet was growing alarmed.

  Darcy approached, “Excuse me, sir, but I think it best to send for the apothecary immediately, and I will send for my physician from Town.”

  Mr. Bennet looked at him for a long moment. He was too reserved of a man to say much, but Darcy saw the usual laughing glint in his eye disappear and be replaced with concern. “You think this serious; have you seen this before?”

  Darcy slowly nodded and spoke quietly. Only Mr. Bennet and Elizabeth could hear. “My mother. She had an acute sickness strike her. See how Miss Lydia perspires and her breathing is so shallow? My concerns may be for naught, but I think she ought to be moved to a sick bed.”