The Last Waltz: . . . another pride and prejudice journey of love

by Pat Santarsiero

  He bows his head as his lips brush against my neck, and softly he whispers ‘Sweet Lizzy’ in my ear. I gaze up at him, and our eyes meet just before he captures my mouth with his.

  I have no desire to stop him as I eagerly return his kiss, our bodies melding together. I part my lips slightly, encouraging the invasion of his tongue, and he quickly heeds the unspoken invitation. Our hands begin a slow but impatient exploration, each of us eager to touch and be touched by the other.

  Our dance now forgotten, breathlessly he tears his mouth from mine. “How can you kiss me like that and still refuse to be my wife?” he asks in disbelief.

  I answer him, even though I seem to have no air within my lungs. “I am not immune to you, Mr. Darcy.”

  His eyes darken and his stare is intense upon me. “Nor am I to you, Miss Bennet,” he replies as he pulls me back into his embrace and captures my lips once again.

  My arms reach up to him, encompassing his neck, and quickly I close the gap between us. I feel his hands caressing me everywhere; at my waist, the small of my back, then downwards, cupping my bottom as he presses his body against mine.

  “Tell me you have changed your mind, Elizabeth. Tell me you will marry me,” his insists.

  As I look deep into his eyes, I long to give him the answer that he wishes to hear, but I remain reticent.

  “I can offer you everything your heart desires, sweet Lizzy.”

  I look up at him and hold his gaze. “What of love, Mr. Darcy? Can you offer me your love?” I ask.

  “Elizabeth, Elizabeth . . .”

  “Elizabeth, Elizabeth! Time to get up.”

  No, no, no! Just let me return to his arms for a few minutes more.

  “Your uncle and I will be leaving soon.” Her aunt’s voice, accompanied by a gentle knock on her door, had suddenly awakened her, and Elizabeth opened one eye. “Are you sure you do not wish to accompany us? Mr. and Mrs. Hastings are old friends; I am sure they would not mind.”

  Reluctantly Elizabeth opened the other eye and became accustomed to the light filtering into the unfamiliar bedchamber of the Lambton Inn. She sighed. Alas, the dream was gone. No doubt yesterday’s visit to Pemberley had prompted the return of her nighttime fantasies. To see the beautiful place where he lived had been thrilling, though somewhat intimidating. And to think he had offered it all to her, a young woman with an ungraceful limp and no connections. Now he was free to offer it all to someone more fitting.

  Perhaps she should be grateful for her aunt’s intrusion upon her dream, for this one was bound to have ended as all of her others had. Even her dreams could not elicit a declaration of love from Mr. Darcy.

  Besides, with his obligation to her father long fulfilled, he had surely moved on with his life. Perhaps he was already courting someone new, some socially acceptable embodiment of perfection. Certainly he had his pick of all the impeccable young ladies in London.

  If ever he was willing to offer his heart to someone, it could never be me.

  The thought of some other woman embraced in Mr. Darcy’s arms was painful to imagine. She could not bear the thought of his mouth bestowing his kisses on some other young lady’s lips or his strong masculine hands tracing the curves of another’s body. Struggling to erase these disagreeable images from her mind, she closed her eyes, attempting to bring back the pleasurable memory of her dream. Once again his warm breath was provocatively sweeping against her neck as he softly whispered her name. “Sweet Lizzy.”

  Another sigh escaped her lips. Yes, that’s better.

  ********

  The late morning sun was at his back as his mount galloped the short distance between Pemberley and Lambton. The sweet agonizing anticipation of seeing her again, however, made the five miles that separated them seem more like a hundred. His thoughts were plagued with questions. What was she doing here? Had she visited Pemberley in the hope that they might meet?

  When he reached the Lambton Inn, he was informed that Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner had gone out for the morning, but that their niece was still in residence.

  He nervously stood there with his hand poised to knock as he took in a deep breath. Would she be happy to see him? Was she still angry? Was he about to make a fool of himself? Releasing the breath he had been holding, he rapped lightly on the door.

  The door opened and he watched as her expression slowly transformed. A look of shock first overtook her countenance, but then her lips began a subtle curve upwards until they formed a most tempting smile. The amber in her dark eyes flashed brightly, and her cheeks flushed as their eyes met . . . and hope suddenly filled his heart.

  She looked so beguiling that he had to catch his breath at the sight of her. How he had missed her. He reflexively performed his functionary bow. “You look . . . you look quite well, Miss Bennet.”

  Elizabeth’s flush blossomed further upon his words. “Mr. Darcy,” she breathed. “What an unexpected surprise. We were at Pemberley just yesterday, sir,” she confessed with no little embarrassment.

  “Yes, Mrs. Reynolds informed me of your visit; I am sorry I was not there to greet you personally.”

  “It was not our intention to intrude upon your privacy, Mr. Darcy,” replied Elizabeth. “We had been well informed you were from home, and we were quite content just to tour your lovely house and grounds.”

  “And did you find Pemberley to your liking?”

  “One could hardly find fault with it. You have a beautiful home, and the gardens are most magnificent.”

  How odd it seemed to be having this perfectly normal conversation with him as though they were mere acquaintances. Anyone observing them would never have suspected that they had once shared such tender intimate moments, that their lips had met in kisses so fervent that they had literally taken her breath away. She now found herself staring quite blatantly at his mouth.

  “The garden in the atrium was one of my mother’s favourite places. She took great pride in its planning. I have tried to maintain it as she would have, but I fear it needs a woman’s touch.”

  “I do not recall seeing the atrium. I’m afraid I lingered too long in the portrait gallery and had to hurry to catch up with my aunt and uncle.” Her complexion deepened once again as she recalled how she had stared up at the almost life-size likeness of him for an unseemly long time. “Has Georgiana no interest in horticulture?” she asked.

  “My sister has admitted to possessing a brown thumb,” he replied with a trace of humour in his voice.

  Elizabeth smiled at his remark. “I have missed our conversations, Mr. Darcy,” she said with her usual candor.

  “I hope now that you are in Derbyshire, we can remedy that, Miss Bennet,” he replied warmly. “I would be honoured if you and your aunt and uncle would be my guests for dinner at Pemberley tomorrow evening. I . . . I know Georgiana is most eager to see you and your aunt again.”

  “Yes, her letters are most enthusiastic on the subject,” she replied. “As I believe we have no set plans, I shall be delighted to accept your invitation for us all.”

  Propriety dictated that he should not linger any longer. “Until tomorrow then,” he said reluctantly, wishing he did not have to end his visit so soon. When he reached out for her hand, she breathed a small gasp at the contact of his warmth against her skin.

  “Yes, Mr. Darcy, until tomorrow.”

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

  “You are here!” the young woman exclaimed as Elizabeth stood in the doorway of the parlour at Pemberley. Georgiana eagerly rushed to greet her friend. “I have been so looking forward to seeing you, Elizabeth. Your letter said you would be taking a tour of the lakes. What a delightful surprise it was when my brother informed me you were visiting Derbyshire instead!”

  “Yes, my uncle was unable to get away for such an extended trip, and my aunt had a desire to see the place of her childhood. Your brother is showing them his favourite fishing spots at the moment. He thought we might enjoy some time alone before they join us.”

  Georgiana coul
d hardly contain her delight. “Now I shall be able to answer your last letter in person! Come sit with me, and I shall order us tea and cakes.”

  “I must admit, Georgiana, I still pictured you as the young girl I had met six years ago, but I see you are all grown up.”

  “Oh, quite.” she answered, “Why, I will be eighteen on my next birthday, which is only but two months away!”

  Her enthusiasm was infectious, and Elizabeth felt an immediate bond between them. But as they moved towards the settee, Georgiana’s delight seemed to quickly fade, and her smile was replaced by a puzzled look as she stared down at Elizabeth’s leg. “What is wrong, Elizabeth? Are you injured?”

  Elizabeth’s complexion deepened. “Well, no, I . . . um . . . I just assumed you knew . . . ,” stammered Elizabeth. “Surely your brother must have informed you of my limp.”

  “We have spoken of you on several occasions,” admitted Georgiana anxiously. “I’m afraid I often pestered my brother to tell me more about you. But I assure you, Fitzwilliam never once said a word regarding it,” she murmured as her embarrassment grew. “If he had . . . oh, Elizabeth, I would never have mentioned . . . I’m so sorry. We shall not speak a word of it again.”

  “Please, Georgiana, please do not make yourself uneasy. It was a carriage accident that happened long ago,” she replied as she tried to assuage the young girl’s concern.

  In a sudden surge of emotion, Georgiana hugged her friend, wishing she had not brought up such a sensitive subject. When she finally pulled away, Elizabeth asked, “It does not affect our friendship in any way, does it?”

  “Oh, Elizabeth, of course not!”

  “Then that is all that matters. I do not mind talking about it. As good friends, we should be able to easily converse on any subject we wish.”

  “I would like that; I have never had a friend that I could confide in,” confessed Georgiana, “someone with whom to share my secret thoughts, my hopes and desires.”

  “I would be honoured to hear them, Georgiana, but you have a brother that you should confide in. Have you not told him of such things?”

  “Well . . . not all of them, Elizabeth,” she replied looking down at the knotted fingers of her hands. “What if he did not approve? It is your letters that have convinced me that we are of the same sensibilities. It is you I wish to confide in, Elizabeth. Besides, there are some things that a girl does not wish to discuss with her brother.”

  Though she felt somewhat uneasy to bear such a responsibility, Elizabeth did not want to disappoint her new friend, and she could not help but smile at the young girl’s openness. She had never realized how lucky she was to have had Jane to confide in all these years. “You and I will have no secrets then, as it should be between friends.”

  “Yes, that would be lovely,” replied Georgiana eagerly, “friends who share each other’s secrets.” She then took Elizabeth into her confidence, as she shyly revealed her inner-most thoughts.

  Elizabeth then relayed the events of the night of her carriage accident, beginning with her and Jane’s attendance at her first London dance and concluding with the ride home that had put a tragic end to their pleasant evening.

  “Oh, Elizabeth, how awful for you both. How could my brother have neglected to tell me?”

  Just then Darcy entered the parlour with Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner. Elizabeth and Georgiana looked up, and he observed the perplexed stares that they each bestowed upon him. As he looked from one to the other, he wondered just what he had done to deserve such unconcealed scrutiny.

  Elizabeth gently squeezed Georgiana’s hand, and in that one small gesture was the promise that all that was shared would remain between the two of them. Georgiana gave her a small nod of her head in return, and then rose to greet her new guests.

  They enjoyed a most pleasant afternoon; Georgiana asking many questions of Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner as she overcame her initial reserve. When dinner had finished, they retreated to the music room. Georgiana shyly agreed to play a concerto, and Elizabeth stood beside her and turned the pages of her music book.

  Elizabeth declined the offer to play next, but Mrs. Gardiner graciously agreed to join Georgiana in a duet. As they were searching through the sheets of music, trying to determine which composition to play, Darcy took advantage of the lull in their entertainment. “Would you care to see the atrium garden that we spoke of yesterday, Miss Bennet?”

  “Yes, I would enjoy that, Mr. Darcy; my aunt and uncle agreed it was quite unusual.”

  He led her from the parlour, and when they entered the atrium, the fragrances of the various florae surrounded them. Despite their overwhelming redolence, Elizabeth could still detect Mr. Darcy’s unique musky scent as he stood close to her.

  “I don’t believe I have seen my sister this happy in quite a long time,” said Darcy. “The two of you seem to get on quite well.”

  “Yes. She is such a sweet and endearing girl, and she obviously adores you,” replied Elizabeth as she smiled up at him. Her smile, however, faltered as her eyes evaded his. “May I ask you something, Mr. Darcy?”

  “Of course.”

  “Georgiana was quite surprised as she observed my walk. She had no knowledge of my carriage accident or the resulting injury. Why had you never mentioned it to her?”

  “Ah, so that explains the disapproving looks I received as I entered the parlour this afternoon.

  “My sister inquired as to what you were like, Miss Bennet. The unevenness of your gait hardly signifies. I told her of your kindness, your strength of character, and the unmerciful way you enjoy teasing me,” he added with a wry smirk. He moved his hand under her chin and forced her to look up at him. “Those are the things that Georgiana and I were taught to value.”

  He gazed into her eyes. “I have missed your teasing,” he admitted. “I find I quite enjoy it, and it seems no one else has the audacity to inflict such abuse upon me.”

  “Well, I shall be happy to accommodate you, Mr. Darcy,” replied Elizabeth with an unconcealed grin, “for I believe there is no one that I take as much pleasure in teasing as you, sir.”

  “It would seem then that we are perfect for each other, Miss Bennet.”

  Though she was sure that it was Mr. Darcy who was now doing the teasing, Elizabeth could not help but blush at his words.

  He took her hand and led her to the furthest corner of the atrium, and with pride, he pointed to a rare looking plant. “I do not recognize that particular variety, Mr. Darcy.”

  “It is a hybrid that my mother cultivated. It produces a deep purple flower, but it will not blossom until the fall.”

  “I should love to see it when it does.”

  Her face quickly flamed red. “Oh, I did not mean to solicit another invitation, Mr. Darcy,” she quickly tried to explain. “I only meant . . .”

  He gently placed his hands on her shoulders and turned her towards him as his eyes fixed upon hers once again. As he searched their depths, he recalled the message she had asked Richard to convey to him the morning following his ill-fated proposal.

  “Is it still your hope that our friendship should continue?”

  Elizabeth nodded her affirmation.

  “Good. It is my understanding that friends frequently visit each other. I assume that this is true of both male and female friends?”

  A smile tugged at Elizabeth’s lips. “Yes. I believe the rule applies in both cases.”

  “Then I see no impediment to your visiting as often as you wish. And as you are far more experienced in such matters, I shall leave it to you to instruct me as to just what a friendship such as ours might entail.”

  Darcy’s hands now traced down her shoulders and caressed her arms as he read the anticipation in her eyes. He felt intoxicated by her closeness. He was certain she had no idea of the effect she had upon him, but he sensed he had the same effect upon her. Her equal impassioned responses to their kisses had once proved that most convincingly.

  Would it be less than noble of him to use that kno
wledge to his advantage? He quickly decided now was not the time to examine his character in such depth. His longing for her rendered him desperate enough to use whatever means of persuasion he had at his disposal.

  “Tell me,” he asked as his mouth enticingly hovered over hers, “are friends permitted to do this?”

  His hands gently framed her face and before a word of protest could be uttered, his lips came down upon hers. Had she the chance, Elizabeth knew she would not have objected anyway. Her lips parted in acquiescence, and she was a willing accomplice to their kiss. Just as she had suspected, she would always be susceptible to him.

  Her arms rose to embrace him, and he pulled her closer. When air required that they break from their kiss, he moved his lips to her ear and murmured, “And what about this, Miss Bennet? Am I allowed this liberty?”

  Again he gave her no time to respond as he gently nipped her lobe, causing a shiver to spread throughout her body. He then softly placed kisses along her jaw and down her neck, inhaling deeply as his lips moved lower.

  “And this?” he whispered as his hands glided slowly over her body, from her bodice down to her waist, then firmly rested at her lower back. He caressed her hips, bringing their bodies flush against each other while his lips once again captured hers.

  He broke from their kiss, but he wanted so much more. He longed to feel her smooth skin beneath his fingers with no barrier between them. Moving his hand to caress her neck, his thumb then slowly traced across her shoulder blade, moving aside the material of her gown in the process as he placed a tender kiss on the pale softness of her newly exposed skin.

  The encouraging “Ah . . .” that escaped her lips made him eager to repeat his actions, which he did without hesitation. Darcy placed a succession of soft kisses across the length of her shoulder and then back again to the enticing crook of her neck. He breathed in the delicious scent of her skin as his lips traced a downward path.