Now I am Mr Darcy again. "Indeed, I am serious, dearest ma'am."
"Well, then?"
"Miss Bennet. I believe our acquaintance has endured the unbelievable. I confess I had never imagined I would be spending these days in your company, though ever since I realised I was going to be at liberty again, I have been fancying you. When I saw you in my bedchamber yesterday, I knew I could never be apart from you again. Enough is enough. You saw what happened last night. The moment I am left alone with you I cannot repress my feelings. So…"
"So…?"
"I have been thinking."
"You have been thinking?" she repeated after him.
He did not answer immediately. Not that he wished to create expectancy or suspense. As a matter of fact, he was a bit restless as what her reaction would be upon hearing his decision.
"There will be a slight change of plans. I must marry you right away."
Elizabeth almost choked upon the slice of pudding she had taken to her mouth. When she recollected herself, she stared intently at his serious face.
"Pardon?"
"It will not do. Either that or we shall be caught in a much more difficult predicament, for I would not tolerate to part with you." he explained.
"Mr Darcy. This is somewhat irregular, is it not? Are you not supposed to keep mourning for your wife? You cannot marry me on this short notice."
"Indeed I can. Your sister can be your witness. My cousin will stand up for me."
"Colonel Fitzwilliam? Has he accepted it?" Elizabeth 's heart skipped a beat.
Heaven forbid. Will he be angry at me? What must he think of me?
"Indeed. No one else would do. You shall come to Pemberley as Mrs Darcy."
"Mr Darcy. I think this is too much a complication. I believe myself quite capable of restraining my feelings. After all I can wait a few months, since I have waited almost five years."
He made no immediate answer and the casual look of his countenance faded to reveal his stern, serious stare. He rested his eyes on hers and with the deepest voice coming from within, he declared: "But I cannot."
He confessed his predicament in earnest, his eyes reflecting his yearning. Elizabeth lowered her gaze and endeavoured to find words to fight his reasoning. At last she tilted her head and with a resolute air she retorted in triumph:
"But last night… you said… you promised you will never impose yourself on me until we are wedded."
Her naïveté almost diverted him. A smile drew on his lips as he restrained his mirth. Reaching for her hand again, he said in a whisper:
"Precisely."
She was speechless. What to reply to such a statement? In truth, he was merely avoiding compromising her. What he had confessed was nothing but the truth. Their passion had a fierce grip on their bodies. Controlling it was a daunting exertion. Who knew how much longer they would be capable of refraining from surrendering to it? Marriage was the wisest solution and the only feasible one. Yet Elizabeth could not fake her vexation at the thought of Richard Fitzwilliam standing up for them at the altar.
"Mr Darcy… I… I cannot marry you on such short notice. The gentleman who was engaged to me… he might suffer if I do so. We must wait. Propriety dictates it."
"Indeed, Miss Bennet, I care not what that gentleman might think. And if it is propriety that concerns you, then you must see that our behaviour lately has been far from appropriate. I am sorry. I can wait no longer. My need of you is such that it well nigh hurts. We must marry right away, lest I fear I shall lose myself again. It will only take a moment of weakness. You must take last night's episode as an excellent example of my meaning. Heaven knows how much I endeavoured to remain a gentleman with you last night. I do not wish to dishonour you. You do not deserve such treatment. And yet, every time we meet, we end up in a difficult predicament. No, Miss Bennet. It will not do! I have said to myself it would countless times. And yet, the moment I see you, well… you have experienced that for yourself."
She remained motionless, silent, pensive as if the truth of his words were penetrating her system. Finally she looked up at him and asked in a resigned tone.
"I must insist, sir. We shall have to wait."
"How long?"
"Six months."
He shook his head. "I will not have it. A fortnight or two will have to do. I shall buy the special license in London. Afterwards, Fitzwilliam will stay here at Rosings with Georgiana for a week, while you and I continue to travel to Pemberley."
She had no time to retort. They heard the voices of people coming to the dinning room and stopped talking. Assuming a casual look, they continued eating their breakfast. Georgiana and Colonel Fitzwilliam joined them, and the latter sat facing Elizabeth.
"Good morning," he muttered. Elizabeth answered with a nod of her head.
"Good morning, brother," said Georgiana.
"Good morning, Georgie, Fitzwilliam," he nodded to his cousin.
"Pray, brother. Tell me. Are we leaving very early?"
"Indeed we are not. There has been a sudden change of plans, Georgiana. I must travel to London on business, and will be back in a few days. You shall come with us, though, to London."
"Very well."
Elizabeth was surprised at the ready submission displayed by Miss Darcy, and felt ashamed at her own behaviour. Georgiana did not protest, or request she should be given explanations. She merely accepted her brother's instructions without the slightest fuss. Elizabeth was amazed. Would Mr Darcy expect such submission from her? Apparently he would. This little argument over the wedding date spoke volumes of what would be expected from her as his wife. Though he seemed to have shown a great deal of concern when explaining to her his plans for them, he had not taken into account her wishes. She remembered Richard's decision to leave for Spain. It had been made in almost the same fashion.
The subject was continued no further; and Georgiana remained thoughtfully silent, till a new object suddenly engaged her attention. She was sitting by Colonel Fitzwilliam, and in taking his tea from Elizabeth, his hand passed so directly before her as to make a ring, with a plait of hair in the centre, very conspicuous on one of his fingers.
"I never saw you wear a ring before, Richard," she cried, "Is that Sarah's hair? I should have thought her hair to be fairer."
Fitzwilliam coloured very deeply, and giving a momentary glance at Elizabeth, replied, "Yes, it is my sister's hair. The setting always casts a different shade on it, you know."
Elizabeth had met his eye, and looked conscious likewise. That hair was her own, she instantaneously recollected the free gift bestowed in the breakfast parlour at Longbourn one early morning four years ago.
Richard's embarrassment lasted some time, and it ended in an absence of mind still more settled. He was particularly grave the whole morning, and whilst sipping her cup of tea, Elizabeth caught a glimpse of his eyes frowning at her. They did not have the sparkle she was used to finding in them. He was decidedly upset. Flickering memories of their last night encounter were insistently flashing her mind. Had she really met him in his bedchamber? Had he made love to her? Or was it Darcy? Darcy twice? No, it had been Richard. How had she found herself in his arms? And why had she finished in Mr Darcy's bed only to wake up alone in her own bedchamber? Why could she not remember? Her head was spinning and a throbbing ache almost split her forehead.
Richard was now looking at her straight in the eye. Her heart gave her a pang. She knew Fitzwilliam still felt for her, otherwise he would not be still wearing the ring or be so upset. She was ready to sink under the agitation of the moment.
God. What will he think of me!
All his hopes had been for nothing, entirely a mistake, a compleat delusion. He would certainly despise her! She was sure her partiality for him was still alive. Yet she could only offer him her friendship. For as to any of that heroism of sentiment which might have prompted her to the simple sublimate of resolving to refuse both Darcy and himself at once and forever, without vouchsafing any mot
ive, because she could not marry them both, Elizabeth had not. Neither could she transfer the affection she felt for Richard from him to Darcy alone, as if Darcy were infinitely the more worthy of the two. No. She felt for Richard with pain and contrition. She reckoned she had led him astray, and it would be a reproach to her for ever.
Had Mr Darcy already told him of his plans? If he had, he must be suffering a great deal. She could not help feeling upset, too.
When the rest of the guests joined them in the dining room, Jane's eyes rested immediately on Elizabeth's, who in turn averted them hastily. Then she directed her piercing gaze towards Mr Darcy, who in full command of his innermost discomfiture, and compleatly prepared to Jane's teasing manner, returned her look with a twinkle in his eyes. Jane blushed a little and smiled. Then she was seated.
Georgina had been whining over riding this morning, and Richard was the object of her whimsicality.
"Fitz? Will you take me riding today?"
"Not today, Sprout."
"If you insist on calling me Sprout, I shall insist on your taking me today."
"You can insist as much as you choose."
"Pray, cousin," asked Darcy. "Are you unwell? I can hardly believe you are refusing to ride."
Richard did not answer. He continued nibbling at his breakfast while his thoughts wandered to and fro. He was suddenly brought back to reality by Mrs Bingley's sweet voice.
"If you are determined to ride, Miss Darcy, I may offer you my companionship," said Jane. "I am not quite proficient, but as long as I am given a nice, gentle mare, and we stay close to the surroundings of Rosings Park I can go with you."
Georgiana simply ogled her in disbelief. She had not counted on an eager rider.
"I thank you, Mrs Bingley. I do not think that will be necessary…"
"How generous of you," interrupted Darcy. "I am sure Georgiana will be happy to accept your kind offer. It will be an excellent opportunity for you to become better acquainted."
"Still I think you should go, Richard." said Lord Matlock, who had already planned to match Georgiana's dowry and healthy youth with his youngest son's aristocratic heritage. "'Tis your duty to guard your cousin, is it not?"
Richard, who had been quite taken by Mrs Bingley's sudden interference was now looking at her with renewed interest. 'Twould be quite pleasurable to ride with you, cousin," he said, looking straight into Jane's eyes. No one was sure to whom he referred with that appellation. In any case, Georgiana seemed reconciled to the general idea of having successfully persuaded Richard into a ride. Now, it was only a matter of getting rid of the meddlesome new cousin.
"Well, then. I suppose I must," he finally said.
Jane flushed and smiled most becomingly. Fitzwilliam caught her gesture and pursed his lips. A quick shiver of excitement went down his spine.
"If you will excuse me, I shall ask the groom to ready the horses." Richard, that said, rose and quit the breakfast room.
What is wrong with me? Can I not refrain from flirting? For God's sake, Mrs Bingley is a married woman. I must take her out of my mind.
"Fitz!" He was once again brought back to Earth from his reverie. This time it was Georgiana. She had followed him, her bosom panting with the exertion of running after him. "Fitz!"
"Sprout. Do not run! You are ruining your hair!" he said in jest. She looked so girlish in her mature gowns, her manners still those of an innocent youth. The low cuts of her dresses gave strong testimony of her womanly sensibilities flourishing, erupting like tulips in the sun. When she finally reached him, she was sweaty and her bosom rose and fell with the rhythm of her panting breathing. Richard could see the velvet of her nipples from his position.
"Georgiana, what did I say regarding these…" he signalled her décolletage.
Georgiana looked at her own cleavage and shrugged.
"All my dresses are like this."
"Well, you had better have new ones done if you wish to come with me to a decent ballroom."
"Oh, Richard. Are you? Are going to take me to a ballroom?"
"I was saying it as an example. You know there will not be any dancing for us for a while."
"Well, then. At least you are taking me for this ride. Must she come, too?"
"Mrs Bingley?"
"Yes. I wished you and I were alone."
"I like Mrs Bingley. She was very kind to you, just know."
"Yes but…"
"I shall ask John to prepare Gwendoline for her. She will be gentle enough, do you not agree? Now, get yourself some decent gowns. I can see your little… rosebuds in those. Be a good child and get changed," he said nonchalantly, and he hastily quit her company in the direction of the stables.
Georgiana was vexed as vexed could be. Her little rosebuds, indeed! How could he make reference to her nipples in such an ungentleman-like manner? That he should notice them had been exactly her point. But Richard seemed immune to her charms! What was wrong with him?
She reluctantly made her way upstairs and rang for her maidservant, who quickly helped into her riding gowns, and hastily headed to the stable. A mischievous thought had entered her mind.
In the stables she saw the three horses that were ready for the riders. She knew Gwendoline. The mare had been long used to teach the youngest riders to mount. She grabbed a sharp pebble and located it in the rear shoe of the mare.
"I am sorry Gwendoline. This might hurt a little. But it is for a good cause."
At length the threesome parted towards the fields behind Hunsford. It had been decided that upon returning they would be visiting Mrs Collins, who was very close to confinement and would very much enjoy lively conversation after the awful days she had had to endure with the loss of her patroness.
Scarcely had they lost sight of the house when Jane's horse began to limp.
Of course, Georgiana noticed.
"Mrs Bingey. I am afraid your mount is limping."
Colonel Fitzwilliam held his horse's reins, and directed it to Mrs Bingley's rear.
"Indeed!" he claimed.
"Is it serious?" asked Jane, really concerned for her horse.
"Let us have a look." Richard replied. He dismounted and inspected the mare's shoe. When he found the cause of the injury, he looked at Georgiana in suspicion. With resignation he let go off the horse's leg and pronounced: "It is indeed a bad cut."
"Oh!" exclaimed Jane in disappointment.
"You shall have to go back!" said Georgiana feigning disappointment. "It is fortunate that we were still so close to Rosings!"
Richard smiled. He did not know what had come over his young cousin, but he could tell that that pebble had not found its way into the mare's shoe on its own. Judging from Georgiana's insistent pleading that Mrs Bingley should have to come back, he could easily surmise the girl had been the perpetrator of the deed.
"May I help you dismount, Mrs Bingley?"
With the gentleness of a fairy, Jane put her hands on the Colonel's shoulders, and while he grabbed her by the waist, she very graciously climbed off the mount and stepped onto solid ground with a swish of her skirt.
Her scent of roses, so similar to that of his beloved, enveloped Richard. In closing his eyes, he could fantasise it was her he was holding. He lingered thus, his hands firmly pressing her sides, Jane seemingly undisturbed by his grip. Rather indecorous one should say, especially since all this was being witnessed by Georgiana.
"Georgiana," he said gravely. "You must go to Hunsford and pay the visit to Mrs Collins first. I shall accompany Mrs Bingley to Rosings and be back in no time." While saying all this, he still had Mrs Bingley grabbed by her waist, his eyes fixed on the latter's countenance. Jane was beginning to feel uncomfortable, not for his enticing nearness but for the girl witnessing it.
Georgiana opened her mouth to protest, but she knew better than that. In a few minutes Mrs Bingley would be at Rosings and she would have Richard to herself. Puffing and huffing, she spurred her horse and was gone.
Richard and Jane walk
ed back together, the horses tagging along behind. He was silent. She thought he was often looking at her, trying for a fuller view of her face than it suited her to give. And this belief produced a dread. Perhaps Colonel Fitzwilliam fancied her. Maybe he fancied her as much as she fancied him. She had thought herself safe while she had imagined it was only she who was partial to the other. But now it was pretty obvious Colonel Fitxwilliam was not compleatly unmoved. He might be watching for encouragement to begin. She did not, she could not, feel equal to lead the way to any subject. Yet she could not bear his silence.
She considered, resolved, and trying to smile, began:
"I believe we should endeavour to have a small talk, do you not agree?"
"Oh, I do not object to your talking to me."
She paused to smile again and then added: "Soon we will have some news to hear. It will be rather a surprise for some."
"News?" he said quietly, and looking at her asked, "of what nature?"
"Oh! The best nature in the world. A wedding."
After waiting a moment, as it to be sure she intended to say no more, he replied with no little annoyance in his tone.
"If you mean Darcy and your sister, that is no news to me."
"No news? How is it possible?" said Jane, turning her glowing cheeks towards him; for a while she meditated. It occurred to her that he might have been apprised of the engagement by Mr Darcy himself.
"It is simple. I have been in their company long enough to know they were meant for each other. Only that I for a while, I confess…" At that he stopt.
Jane perceived his uneasiness. "You probably have been then less surprised than any of us, for you have had your suspicions."
"Oh no, Mrs Bingley. I am surprised! I did have had my suspicions, and I wish I had attended to them. I seem to have been doomed to blindness." This was said with a sinking voice and a heavy sigh. Jane understood that the Colonel resented Mr Darcy had not waited a single day to find a new wife after Anne Darcy's death. For a moment or two nothing was said, and she was unsuspicious of having inflicted pain on the Colonel's sensibilities.
"Your own excellent sense, your exertions towards your cousins's sake, coming directly from a terrible war in his assistance, I know of your indignation. But Colonel, time will heal any wounds."
Love Calls Again Page 38