by Lory Lilian
Darcy took her hand and entwined his fingers with hers again while she leaned against him, and they continued to walk through the back garden. “Let us pause here.”
“We would be completely unchaperoned here, sir. Not to mention that it is already dark, so our situation is even more improper,” she said in mocking reproach.
“Yes, I am aware of that,” he said as he sat and gently pulled her near him.
She laughed. “You seem to give little consideration to my reputation, sir.”
“We are to be married in less than three days, madam. I dare say your reputation will be just fine.”
“Well, it depends,” she managed to reply before his lips captured hers in a tender, gentle kiss.
“You know,” Elizabeth said some time later when she was able to breathe normally again, “Mama insisted I should distract your attention before dinner is ready. She was afraid you would be upset and leave.”
“Well, I am prepared to report to Mrs. Bennet that you performed your duty admirably.”
“Thank you sir,” she whispered against his lips and then daringly engaged his attention once more.
“Elizabeth, I confess I can scarcely wait to be married and leave all this behind.”
“I feel the same,” she admitted, suddenly shy. “Is it difficult for you to handle my noisy family?”
“No, no I am not speaking of your family; not at all! But I would be grateful to be able to move to our home, with nobody around except you; I have to say, I am forever indebted to Bingley for hosting us at Netherfield all this time, but living with his sisters is difficult to bear despite Bingley’s kindness.”
“Oh, I am sorry.” Elizabeth spoke sympathetically, but she could not help laughing.
“However, I am confident that you may compensate any unpleasant moments with other more pleasant company. You have Georgiana and Cassandra—and the colonel—to keep you entertained.”
“Yes, very entertained, indeed. You should pity me, you know. I am grateful Cassandra is making a full recovery, but she has become more cruel than before. She finds the greatest enjoyment in having fun at my expense with David and my own sister joining her.”
“Why would they make fun of you?”
“Well, it appears there is nothing more humorous than a single man awaiting his wedding day.”
“I see,” she said tenderly. “But at least they are making fun of Mr. Bingley, too, are they not?”
“No indeed—at least not as much. It seems I am the main beneficiary of their teasing. But the prospect of having you as my wife is worth any torture I have to endure,” he said as she laughed.
“I have to say I am amazed, sir, seeing how much you have changed since we met last autumn. You are even more handsome when you smile, and you have become a true expert at teasing.”
“Even more so in being teased,” he admitted with amusement. He removed the glove from her hand, and his lips gently kissed her fingers. “I have changed, Elizabeth, because you were worthy of a better man.”
“No, indeed! There is no better man than you are, and I am happy to say you did not change at all in essentials. You just smile more and are less proper and less restrained than I believed you to be.”
His lips were still caressing her fingers and her other hand gently stroked his face. Their present position on the bench soon became uncomfortable and—to Elizabeth’s astonishment—Darcy put his arms around her and lifted her, placing her on his lap. She withdrew from him briefly so their eyes could meet, and then her lips searched for his again, and her body pressed against him until she felt her breasts against the solid wall of his chest. Darcy pulled away a few inches, unbuttoned his coat, and embraced Elizabeth even more forcefully.
“I want to feel you as close to me as I can,” he said a moment before their lips joined once more.
“William,” she whispered breathlessly while his lips moved along her face. “Please unbutton my coat, too…”
For a moment, he was still, the assault of his daring kisses suspended, but before she had time to register the movement of his skilful hands, she felt herself crushed against him again, and this time the thin fabric of her dress allowed his warmth to burn her skin. She felt his fingers caress her neck and back, and then travel along her ribs until they rested upon her hips. They returned to her arms and shoulders, followed the line of her throat, tantalised the neckline of her dress and, finally, slid inside. She sighed, and he hastily covered her mouth with another kiss.
His caresses soon became less passionate; his lips released hers and gently covered her face, eyes and temples with countless, delicate kisses. They embraced so tightly, that each could hear the other’s heart beating.
“We should return to the house,” Darcy said, still kissing her temples.
“Yes,” she agreed, but neither of them moved.
“This night will pass soon as will the next two—and then I will be allowed to hold you as long as I want.” Her head rested on his shoulder and for some time they remained wrapped in blissful silence.
Then, to Elizabeth’s shock, Darcy began to laugh, and she raised her head, staring at him.
“William, what is it? You startled me.”
“I am sorry, my love…please forgive me. It is nothing. Let us return to the house.”
Without rising from his lap, she looked at him with reproach. “Surely you cannot be serious, sir—to burst out with such levity and then tell me it is nothing. You absolutely must tell me the reason for your amusement.”
“Elizabeth, I…I cannot. It is not a proper conversation to have with you.”
Her eyebrow rose in astonishment. “Not proper? Mr. Darcy, we are in the back garden of my own home, you are holding me on your lap, risking being caught any moment, and you are concerned about the propriety of a conversation? You have a strange sense of proper behaviour, sir.”
He playfully placed another kiss on her hair.
“Very well, but I warn you that you will be shocked, maybe even upset as it involves your sister.”
“My sister? Jane? What reason might you have to laugh at Jane?”
“No, not at Miss Bennet…please forgive me. It is just that…well, last evening when I returned to Netherfield, I found a note from Cassandra, telling me she wished to speak to me. I hurried to her room, assuming something important had happened…instead…”
“Yes? Come sir; do not trifle with me. Now I am truly uncomfortable with this conversation.”
“Well, I am too…and it was even worse last night when Cassandra demanded that I tell her—how experienced Bingley was.” He chuckled as Elizabeth stared at him without comprehension.
“Experienced? In what way?” she asked, then her cheeks coloured highly, and she rose from Darcy’s lap. “Ooooh,” she whispered, while she hurried to button her coat.
“Elizabeth, I am sorry if I offended you…”
“You did not offend me. It is just that…I am not accustomed to such a conversation, especially between a gentleman and a lady, even if they are close friends.”
“I am not accustomed either—trust me—and last night I was not at all inclined to laugh as I am now! It is true that Cassandra is like a sister to me, but that is not a discussion to have with a sister,” he replied seriously, and Elizabeth’s embarrassment was overcome by her own amusement.
“I can imagine…and may I dare ask how you replied to her?”
“I replied to her exactly the same: that I was shocked she could ask such a question that cannot possibly be answered. “But she said if I would not answer, she would ask Bingley directly!”
They had already started to walk toward the house, and Elizabeth burst out in peals of laughter so loud that she was certain they were heard from inside. “She would not dare!”
“I am afraid she would! Apparently, Miss Bennet is concerned about…various aspects following her wedding. Cassandra told me they had spent much time talking, and she somehow managed to comfort Miss Jane and assure her she ha
d absolutely no reason for concern, as she will be the perfect mistress for Netherfield and the perfect wife for Bingley. However, Cassandra wanted to be certain everything truly would be fine with Miss Jane in every aspect of her marriage—starting with the wedding night.”
“Now I see. Cassandra’s care for my sister is wonderful and praiseworthy. And—?”
“And what, Elizabeth?”
“Is Mr. Bingley experienced?”
“Elizabeth!”
“I am sorry, but if Cassandra is worried for my sister, how could I not be?”
“Miss Elizabeth,” Darcy replied soundly and decidedly, “I shall not discuss any details about my friend either with you or Cassandra!”
He was so grave that Elizabeth covered her mouth in order to keep from laughing aloud again.
“As you wish, sir.”
“And I will tell you exactly what I told Cassandra: I am absolutely certain that Miss Bennet’s marriage with Bingley will be a happy one—in every respect!”
“Thank you for assuring me, sir.”
“You are welcome.”
Elizabeth could not hold her laughter any longer. “Cassandra is astonishing.”
“She is indeed. Perhaps too astonishing at times,” Darcy admitted.
“I understand she did not inquire about your own experience, did she? I wonder why—
“No, she did not, perhaps because she did not seem concerned about you at all, Elizabeth. It may be that you did not appear to be frightened about any aspect of our future marriage,” Darcy replied lightly.
“Or perhaps, being around you for so long, she already knew about your past experiences?”
The words came out before she was able to control them. Suddenly shy, she averted her eyes.
As they had almost reached the main entrance, Darcy stopped, and she was forced to do the same.
He leaned toward her so he could whisper in her ear. “Elizabeth, I have never loved another woman before, nor have I known the true meaning of passion and desire before meeting you.”
She looked at him, and he lifted her hand to his lips. “As for our marriage, dearest Elizabeth, I heartily believe you are not frightened about its various facets, as we are to be the happiest couple in the world in every way!”
“I know that. I have known it from the first moment we became engaged—and maybe even before.”
At that moment, Mrs. Bennet chose to call everyone to the house and finally allow poor Mr. Darcy and Mr. Bingley to have some nourishment before they fainted from hunger.
***
Bingley and Colonel Fitzwilliam were the only ones left in the Netherfield library. Darcy had retired a little earlier, and the colonel would have done the same, but to his utter surprise, Bingley had requested a private conversation with him, and the colonel accepted—puzzled and curious. However, a quarter of an hour passed and Bingley seemed more inclined to enjoy his brandy than to speak about the reason for his distress.
“Bingley, stop pacing the room. You are making me dizzy!”
“I am sorry, Colonel.”
“Don’t be sorry. Sit down and tell me what is happening to you. You are acting strangely, man!”
Bingley stared at him a moment then poured himself another glass of brandy.
“I don’t know what to do. I need your advice, Colonel.”
“About life in general or about a particular matter?’
“Please, I do not need your mocking tone right now.”
“Forgive me, my friend, but you are quite amusing. What the hell is happening to you, man? You are to be married in three days. You should be the happiest man in the world.”
“I am! And that is precisely what troubles me! That is the problem!”
“That? That as in…what?”
“The wedding, man! The wedding night—don’t you understand?”
“Huh?” asked the colonel in the most ungentlemanlike manner. “Your wedding night is the problem? You mean you are not — You do not know? You never before—
“Oh, hush, Colonel! Of course, I have and I know. Do not be ridiculous.”
“Oh, good,” the colonel replied, obviously relieved, and hurried to fill his glass once more. “Then what is bothering you?” He was certain their conversation could not get any worse.
“The problem is that it is not the same thing! It cannot be the same thing. Jane is so different, so wonderful, and so proper in everything she does. I could not possibly…you know…”
“Now I am completely lost,” the colonel admitted. “Just ask away if you have a question. Do not torture me any longer.”
“What should I do?” Bingley finally burst out. “I have never been in love with a woman to whom…you know. How could I do that without frightening Jane? I love her so much, and I desire her so much that sometimes I am afraid I will not be able to control myself. I feel I will lose my mind! You must know that, Colonel! You have already been with the woman you love.”
Bingley looked more distressed than ever before, and his last words succeeded in shocking the colonel equally.
“Bingley, you are killing me!”
“I am sorry. I did not mean to be disrespectful. I only—
“Don’t worry about being disrespectful; that is my last worry. Let us sit down and talk calmly.”
“As you say,” Bingley obeyed.
“Bingley, you must know this is the strangest conversation I have ever had.”
“I imagine so. I cannot apologise enough for placing you in this uncomfortable situation, but I thought you were the only one who could understand me and provide me with sound advice. I know how strong your affection is for Lady Cassandra and—
“Bingley, what advice do you expect from me? I do not understand the reason for your distress, to be honest. I never thought of this before. Oh God, I need another drink,” the colonel concluded.
“I can easily see why you do not understand and why you never worried about this. You are a man who always knows what he has to do in any circumstance. But I am a complete idiot who will surely disappoint the woman I love because I am unable to behave properly; it is as simple as that.”
“Come now, Bingley—there are too many words and we have had too many glasses of brandy. You are not an idiot; you are only preoccupied with this matter. It will pass soon enough. As for your concern—let me assure you everything will be well. There is nothing to fear. You said it could not be the same as with any other woman. I will tell you: it is the same but completely different. It is more—much more. Have you not held Miss Bennet’s hand? Have you not kissed her? No, no, don’t answer me! Just think of that. I am certain you have experienced all these before with other women, and you surely noticed the holding of the hand or the kissing were the same…but not really the same.”
Bingley stared at him with his eyes wide open. “Damn, you are such a clever man, Colonel. You said so little yet I finally understand everything.”
“I am not clever, Bingley. It must be the result of those five glasses of brandy you just drank.”
Bingley started to laugh so loudly that the colonel startled. “You should go to bed, Bingley.”
“Yes, I should,” he admitted without moving. “You may consider me a complete fool, Colonel, but I cannot help wondering. I hope she will be happy with me—that she will enjoy our marriage. I want everything to be perfect for her, but I already disappointed her last autumn. What if I disappoint her again. I failed so miserably to understand her feelings last year. Will I be able to recognise whether she truly enjoys being with me or only tolerates me because it is her duty to do so?”
“Bingley, from what I have seen, I doubt Miss Bennet is merely tolerating you. Indeed, she is a proper young lady—so no wonder she is restrained. But she seems to enjoy your company quite a lot.”
“She does, does she not? I confess there were times when I felt that she would allow me to—
“Bingley, let us stop this confession before the brandy makes you say things you will come
to regret tomorrow. You must have faith in yourself. The mere fact that you are so concerned for Miss Bennet proves the depth of your affection for her. You want advice for your wedding night? Here it is: show her your affection and your care; be patient and considerate, and do not forget you said you want everything to be perfect for her.”
“She is an angel,” Bingley said dreamily, and the colonel patted him on his shoulder.
“Then, here is further advice—stop thinking about Miss Bennet as an angel; she is an exceptionally beautiful lady, but she is still a woman, not an angel, and I dare say that is most fortunate. Angels are not to be touched, and you surely would like to touch your wife. An angel is something for your fantasies. A real, beautiful woman who shares your affection and becomes your wife—that is something to experience every day for many years.”
Bingley was staring at his companion wordlessly, dizzy from fatigue and the effects of the brandy, yet his mind was working frantically, considering everything he heard.
“You are a clever man, Colonel,” he repeated.
“I know, I know—sometimes I astonish myself with my own cleverness, Bingley. Now let me take you to your room—and for God’s sake, do not drink on your wedding night, or you will not be able to perform as well as you would wish.”
Bingley stepped toward the door, but the last words turned him back to the colonel. “Thank you for telling me that, Colonel! Now I will have another reason to worry! How very considerate of you!”
Colonel Fitzwilliam could not control the burst of laughter any longer. Certainly that was the most diverting conversation he had had in quite a long time.
***
Happy for all her maternal feelings was the day on which Mrs. Bennet divested herself of her two most deserving daughters. It may be guessed with what delighted pride she watched them stand up in church next to their wealthy grooms, surrounded by illustrious guests and all twenty-four families from Meryton. Even Lady Cassandra was present with Colonel Fitzwilliam—what a handsome, amiable man! He took the trouble to carry her ladyship in his arms from the carriage into the church in order that she not miss the grand event.