by Lory Lilian
“Miss Bennet, you have a fever; that is obvious. How on earth did I not notice it earlier?” His distress was clear, and she tried to answer that she was well, but he would not hear of it. “I will send for a servant this instant. In the meantime, I will bring you some water.” He left and returned quickly with a glass full of water. He handed the glass to her; her fingers were trembling, and he covered them with his as she drank. Afterwards, he leaned her against the pillows once more, and in a moment, he was gone.
She did not have time to thank him nor did she notice how much time passed before a maid entered her room with tea, fresh water and medicines. Just before sleep took her, she asked the servant about the time: it was past midnight.
Elizabeth woke some time later, feeling much better. She pleaded with the girl to go to sleep herself, but the maid refused. After much negotiation, the girl agreed to retire after she was certain everything was fine with Miss Bennet and her fever was gone for good.
***
It was dawn, and the rain had stopped when a slight movement in the room awakened her. She did not open her eyes, but she wondered why the maid had not retired as she promised. Freezing, she felt somebody sitting next to her on the bed, taking her hand gently then placing a soft, light kiss on her forehead. She did not move nor even breathe; she knew it was him, and she did not dare guess why he was in her room again and what he would do next. For an instant, the realisation of what would happen if somebody found him there struck her, but she put the thought aside as quickly as it arose. His fingers were still holding her hand, and all her blood seemed to race to that precise point on her skin. She felt his gaze travelling over her face, and then she felt him lowering over her again, his fingers tenderly playing with a lock of her hair. She could not pretend she was asleep any longer; she wanted to see him. She opened her eyes, and before he had time to recover from the shock of being discovered, she smiled at him, their fingers still tightly together.
“Mr. Darcy, why are you not sleeping, sir? It is almost morning.”
In the light of the fire, she saw him frown, his face turning pale; he looked mortified, and it was a moment before he could speak, desperately attempting to remove his hand from hers and rise from the bed.
“Miss Bennet, please forgive me. I should not be here…It is only that…I checked on Georgiana, and I could not rest until I was certain that you were well, too. I thought the maid was still here, and I wanted to ask her…and when nobody answered my knock, I could not restrain myself from entering. Please forgive me…I have no excuse for my scandalous behaviour.”
Her heart melted, and she wished for nothing more than to caress his handsome face and tell him how happy she felt that he—the most proper of men—had broken the rules of strict propriety because of her and could not sleep until he was certain she was well. She did not dare do so but she did dare something else: to choose honesty instead of the demands of decorum. She was not offended by his care; she was grateful to have him there, and she intended to show him that. She also wanted him to stay a moment longer. The harm had been done anyway. What would another moment cost?
“I asked the maid to retire earlier. She had been most dutiful, and I was feeling very well indeed, so there was no need to keep her awake.” She struggled to explain as she gathered all her courage to continue. “Sir, there is nothing to forgive; I know there is no excuse for your being in my room at this hour, as I have no excuse for allowing you to stay. However, I want to thank you for your care and concern. I am feeling very well indeed,” she repeated, then added teasingly, “And I certainly hope you will finally get some rest, too. It would not do to for you to become ill from lack of sleep.”
An expression of heartfelt delight lit his face and softened it; Elizabeth was certain he was more handsome than ever. She was no longer cold, yet she quivered when she felt his fingers returning to caress hers.
“Thank you, Miss Bennet,” he whispered. “As for my becoming ill, there is no need to worry; I am better than I have been in the last many years.”
“As am I,” she whispered, her eyes gazing steadfastly into his.
“I shall leave you now,” he said after a long moment. “However, Miss Bennet, I hope tomorrow we will have the opportunity to talk again…and if the weather will allow us, there are some places I would like to show you—together with Georgiana, of course.”
She dared to presume she knew what he wanted to tell her and did not have the confidence to do it. How could she make him understand he had nothing to fear? Was she not eloquent enough in showing her feelings? After all, she had admitted him to her room in the middle of the night with not a single word of censure. Was that not proof enough?
“Mr. Darcy, I will look forward to anything you would like to show me…or tell me.” She blushed, mortified by her desperate audacity in encouraging him. Her reward was immediate as the light smile on his lips told her he understood her meaning.
“Thank you, Miss Bennet. I also look forward to tomorrow.” He lifted her fingers to his lips and touched them briefly, while his eyes caressed her with breathtaking tenderness. He rose from her side, and with a slow pace and a last look, he finally left.
She sighed, and then she placed her lips on her own fingers, on the same spot that had touched his lips. The gesture made her want more, and until she fell asleep again, she wondered about the feeling of his lips upon hers.
***
Darcy closed the door to Elizabeth’s room with great care, peering down the hallway to see whether anyone was around. It was empty and silent as was the entire house.
However, in a dark corner of the hall, hidden from Darcy’s vigilance, a pair of inquiring eyes watched in shock as Mr. Darcy exited the room that was occupied by Miss Elizabeth Bennet.
Chapter 8
Walking along the hallway to his room, Darcy felt happy and grateful for his good fortune and so light hearted that he was certain he could fly. He laughed at the foolish thought, instantly imagining how he would look actually flying and what the servants would say.
There could be no misunderstanding or doubt left now: her feelings had changed since April, and she wanted him to see that. She had showed him and told him as much. The first moment she opened her eyes and saw him there in her room on her bed in a scandalous, shocking situation, he was alarmed to a degree he had never been before. He was concerned he might have shocked or offended her so badly that her good opinion would be forever lost. He expected her to scold him, throw him out of her room and then leave his house at the first opportunity. In fact, most women in a similar situation would have demanded an immediate marriage to compensate for their ruined reputation, but Elizabeth would not have done that, and a forced marriage was not what he desired in any way.
However, all his fears were put aside when Elizabeth, eyes sparkling with surprise, smiled at him; he felt, undoubtedly, her hand squeezing his, so he could not leave. Even now, he could feel her soft fingers warming his with the most delicious sensation he had ever experienced.
No, not the most; the most delicious, shockingly, scandalously pleasant feeling he experienced had been when he held her in his arms on the horse, sensing every part of her body crushed against him in a fervent, amorous embrace. He had known other women—intimately—but he had never held a woman so tightly to him, so tightly to his heart, nor had he ever experienced such blissful happiness from a woman’s closeness. The moment they had arrived at Pemberley and she was taken from his arms, both his body and his heart felt torn in half, longing for her to complete him again. And his desire had been fulfilled—though only to a small degree—during dinner and afterwards when they had spent the entire time together.
Then, in her bedchamber, the way she spoke to him—the way she teased him—and then told him she was anxious for anything he wanted to show her or tell her. No, there could be no doubt; she wanted him to talk to her and he would—the very next day. He planned not to demand an answer but to declare himself and ask permission to court her pro
perly until she was prepared to accept him. Yes, this time he was certain she would accept his love and, eventually, his hand in marriage.
He entered his room, wanting nothing more than to lie in bed and sleep as long as he could, which would not be long considering the appointment he had for the morning. He startled in shock when the door of his bedchamber opened and a wet and unsightly Colonel Fitzwilliam barged in.
“David, what on earth happened? What are you doing here at this hour? Come in, sit by the fire and let me pour you a glass of brandy; you look very ill.” He instantly filled two glasses—his only half full, the colonel’s to the top—but as he turned to hand it to his cousin, he met the colonel’s glowering countenance. There was a chill in his tone that Darcy had never heard in all the years they had known each other.
“I was on my way to Pemberley earlier today when I was caught in the storm and forced to seek shelter. One of your tenants hosted me in his home until the rain stopped, which was only an hour ago, and I hurried to ride here as fast as I could. Now I realise I made a mistake. I never should have come without announcing my visit.”
“Nonsense, David, you know this is your home, too; you may come and go whenever you please. Let me call Stevens to prepare you a bath.”
“No need to bother; I talked to Stevens when I entered—and with one of the maids, too. She was kind enough to offer me a cup of tea, which she mentioned, was prepared for Miss Bennet who is here and not feeling well.” As he spoke, his voice mixed sharpness with mockery, and his icy eyes narrowed as he watched Darcy.
“Yes, Miss Bennet and Georgiana had a picnic today and were caught in the rain, but fortunately, Cassandra and I arrived in time to bring them home safely. Now they are both unwell and a bit feverish, but we hope it is nothing serious,” explained Darcy, puzzled by his cousin’s strange attitude.
“Yes, I heard about your heroic rescue. The maid as well as Stevens were very impressed and related it to me with great enthusiasm. Yet I cannot help wondering why saving Miss Bennet from the rain gives you the right to place her in a room close to your apartment and visit her in the middle of the night.” By now, his voice was steely cold, and his eyes were full of rage.
Darcy froze for a moment, unable to formulate an answer and considering what he should say. He decided to trust his cousin and confide in him as his best friend; yes, he needed to talk to someone about his impropriety and its happy result: the discovery of Miss Bennet’s true feelings for him.
“How dare you, Darcy?” cried the colonel before he could say a word. “What has happened to you? Have you lost your senses? To have both Lady Cassandra and Miss Bennet under your roof and act like the worst of scoundrels—trifling with them both only a few steps from Georgiana’s apartment. You must be completely mad, and I will not allow you to go on with this!”
Darcy instantly turned white, staring at his cousin as at a complete stranger who spoke an incomprehensible language. He put his glass down and then walked slowly to the nearest armchair and sat down.
The colonel was a bit more clearheaded than his cousin. “I shall send a note to the Gardiners first thing in the morning to come and retrieve their niece; she cannot remain here a moment longer. Even if you have no consideration for her, I have. As for Lady Cassandra, you clearly have no affection for her, but you at least should have a little respect if you indeed intend to marry her.”
Struggling to control his own rage, Darcy finally lifted his eyes to his cousin’s face, red with anger. He breathed deeply and managed to calm himself before answering coldly, “I would be tempted to kill anyone else if they had said such things to me, but with you I am too grieved and pained to even be angry. I never would have guessed this is your opinion of me after you have been like a brother and best friend all my life. Thank you for this enlightening disclosure. And now please be so kind as to leave my room—and feel free to do what you think is necessary. As for Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner, I have already sent them a note and am expecting them as soon as the weather permits them to travel, so there is no need to trouble yourself.”
The colonel remained still, eyes and mouth opened in disbelief. “Darcy, now I am certain you are completely mad! That is all the answer I can expect from you? Have you nothing more to tell me?”
“Indeed, that is all I have to say to you.”
“But Darcy…”
“Cousin, please leave. My anger will soon defeat my control, and I do not want a scandal in the house at this hour. We shall talk at some point—another time when I am able to face you again.”
The colonel threw his glass in the fire and quit the room with the same expression of rage on his face. Yet, after only a few minutes, while Darcy still had not recovered from the shock of their conversation, the colonel returned, poured another glass of brandy and fell into an armchair. Darcy did not even lift his eyes to look at him.
“Darcy, kill me if you wish to, but for God’s sake, talk to me! What should I believe? I arrived an hour ago, I was told you were not yet asleep and came to talk to you—and I saw you exiting Miss Bennet’s room at four in the morning. What else am I to believe?”
“Yes indeed, what else could you think except that I took advantage of her poor condition to dishonour Miss Bennet while she is my sister’s guest and lies feverish in a room next to Georgiana. That is something any gentleman would do and I more than anyone.”
The colonel started pacing the room nervously, swallowing all the brandy violently and then pouring himself another glass.
“Very well, very well, I admit that maybe I was wrong. I was in too great a hurry to accuse you, but you must understand that I was tired and cold, and I was so shocked when I saw you. You know I have always admired Miss Bennet and considered her a friend; and Lady Cassandra is…Well, I assume you had a valid reason to be in Miss Bennet’s room, but still it was unacceptable. What if somebody else had seen you? The scandal would have ruined Miss Bennet’s reputation forever. Did you consider that?”
Immediately, Darcy’s affection for his cousin and his worries for Miss Bennet’s reputation defeated his anger and the offense he took at the colonel’s words. No matter how unfair and outrageous his accusations had been, he knew the colonel was right, and anyone in his place would have shared the same opinion. He rose, poured more brandy for himself, and finally turned toward his accuser.
“Yes, I did consider it, but unfortunately, I unwisely chose to ignore my misgivings. I checked on both Georgiana and Miss Bennet before retiring to my room because I was worried for them both. And when I entered Miss Bennet’s room, I was under the impression the maid was still about, so my intention was only to inquire after her. It is equally true, however, that when I discovered Miss Bennet was alone, I still entered. I know what scandal my behaviour might have aroused, but I cannot regret it, because I was fortunate enough to have everything resolved to my satisfaction.”
“Oh, indeed? Well, at the risk of sounding even more offensive, did you consider Miss Bennet’s satisfaction as well? What if she discovered your little escapade?”
“In fact, she did discover me. She awoke while I was there—
“Did she? Then how can you say all is well? I know Miss Bennet to be an honourable young lady, and I imagine she was outraged to see you.”
“Yes, she is everything you said and so much more. But, no, she was not angry at all. I have reason to believe she was pleased, so much so that tomorrow I intend to talk with her privately, and if the result is the one I am hoping for, I shall speak to her uncle and then write to Mr. Bennet as well.”
The colonel’s shock grew alarmingly until he was forced to fall into his chair once more; another glass of brandy was gulped instantly, and he felt so dizzy he could hardly keep his eyes open. “What private talk, Darcy? What result? You cannot possibly intend to propose to Miss Bennet!”
“Why on earth not? I can and I surely will do precisely that.”
“But…but what about Cassandra?”
“Cassandra? Why are you
involving her in this conversation?”
“Why? Because you are about to marry her. Everybody knows that!”
“Oh, come now; that is ludicrous. How can you say such a thing? I love Cassandra dearly; next to you, she has been the dearest and closest friend I have ever had. I would do anything for her. But marry her? Are you out of your senses? Where did you get such an idea?”
“Where? From you and her of course! Since Lady Cassandra returned, you have been together constantly; you and Georgiana have declared how happy you are to have her company. And she kept talking about marrying you! I imagined she was mostly talking in jest, but you never did anything to contradict her.”
“Oh come now, David. Cassandra and I have behaved that way since we were children.”
“Well, you are not children anymore, Darcy. And it is not only my opinion; the whole of London is waiting for the announcement—
“Aaaah, yes…well, ‘the whole of London’ has speculated about the event since the first season we were out, so that is nothing new. Nobody can seriously consider it after all this time.”
“Well, my mother said it is only a silly rumour, and she laughed at it. So, you will not marry Lady Cassandra?”
“Certainly not!”
The colonel started pacing the room again in even greater agitation. Darcy, tired and under the warm influence of the brandy, demanded rest. “Cousin, now that we hopefully have cleared all misunderstandings, is there anything else that cannot wait until morning? If not, I should like to sleep a few hours at least.”
“What? Oh…no, no there is nothing urgent, nothing at all. I shall leave now. I am sure my bath is ready.”
“Very well. We shall talk again at breakfast.”
“Breakfast? A late one if you please,” he added as he exited the room.
His cousin’s apparent preoccupation puzzled Darcy, but his fatigue was even greater, so he allowed himself to enjoy his comfortable bed. So many extraordinary events had occurred that day, and he could hardly believe them. Closing his eyes, he rejoiced in the happy memories that began when Elizabeth arrived at Pemberley. “Elizabeth,” he whispered, and her very name caressed his heart like a tender touch.