Chapter 16
The night was still, the air heavy with the scent of autumn leaves drifting through the open window.
Darcy lay in his bed, the firelight casting flickering shadows across the room, his mind restless with thoughts of a certain young woman whose wit and courage had ensnared his heart.
Her room was only two doors away, and her proximity troubled him and stirred his senses.
Sleep had claimed him at last, but his mind was still alert, blurring the line between fantasy and reality until the door to his chamber creaked open with a soft, deliberate sound.
He sat up, the sheets falling to his waist, his breath catching as a figure stepped into the room, a shadow lit only by the silver glow of moonlight.
His wildly beating heart warned him it was her before his eyes recognised her dark curls cascading over her shoulders and the alluring curves of her body were revealed under her nightgown and robe.
Then she closed the door slowly and walked towards his bed.
“Miss Bennet?” he whispered, his voice hoarse with disbelief, his heart pounding. “What are you doing here?”
“Mr Darcy,” she said, her voice low and teasing, a smile playing at the corners of her lips. “I could not sleep. I came to apologise for bursting into your room…and to assure you I did not see anything I have not seen before.”
He swallowed, his throat dry, as she stepped closer, the hem of her gown brushing over the polished floor.
“I see you have little to say, sir. May I ask what occupies the thoughts of a man like you, alone in such a grand room?”
The firelight danced in her eyes, and he felt the weight of her bold gaze scrutinising his face, as though she could see inside him.
“You should not be here,” he managed, though his words lacked conviction; he knew his eyes betrayed his longing as they traced the curve of her cheek, the line of her throat.
“And yet, here I am,” she replied, her tone laced with that familiar arch amusement. She stopped at the edge of his bed, her fingers lightly trailing along his hand, then entwining with his.
“Elizabeth, you should not be here,” he repeated. “There is nothing I have ever wanted more in my life than for you to stay…but you must leave…”
“I shall…soon…after you hold me for a while.”
Her other hand reached out, her fingers brushing against his collarbone, tracing the lines of his night shirt where it lay open.
Her touch was light but tormenting, igniting a fire that he had long struggled to keep under control.
He caught her wrist, his grip gentle but firm, his eyes searching her face.
She leant towards him, so close that he could feel her breath.
Her lips touched his jaw softly, progressing towards his mouth, while her hands encircled his neck and her breasts pressed upon his chest. The thin fabric of her gown could not prevent their heated bodies from burning each other.
Her lips finally met his, tentative, shy, but only for an instant; then his passion overcame his prudence, his arms wrapped around her, and his mouth — thirsty and hungry — captured hers in a kiss that deepened until it left both of them breathless.
He fought for air, sweating so much that he thought the fire inside him might devour him.
His arms felt empty, his mouth dry, and he realised he was alone, awoken from another dream that had tortured his sleep.
He should be embarrassed by the fruits of his imagination, but her taste was still deliciously vivid on his lips.
Unlike other times, now that he had decided to pursue her, to fight for her good opinion and for her love, he felt less guilty, less ashamed.
If he succeeded in his endeavour, soon enough reality would replace his dreams and she would return to his arms, where he prayed she belonged.
As for him, he had known for some time and finally admitted that, as bound as he was by duty and others’ expectations, he was simply a man whose heart and mind belonged to Elizabeth Bennet.
He rose and put some more coal on the fire, then lay back down, closing his eyes, willing the dream to return.
But it was gone, leaving only an ache in his chest and a certainty in his soul.
He would do everything in his power to win her heart, her trust, her love.
As for society and the rest of the world, he would fight anyone and anything that dared to stand in the way of his dreams becoming reality.
Darcy tried to sleep for a while, but his restless mind would grant him no peace.
Eventually, he sat up and reached for the water jug, but it was empty.
He was thirsty and hot and briefly considered ringing for a servant, but he changed his mind; surely he could fetch some water himself without disturbing anyone at that hour.
Besides, a bottle of brandy from the library would be even better.
He put on his robe without closing it, then opened the door.
In the hall, the cool air made him shiver.
With the jug in his hand, he stepped carefully, glancing towards Elizabeth’s door, still troubled after the earlier dream.
He descended the stairs, filled his jug and grabbed a bottle of brandy, then returned.
He hurried his steps, distracted by the cold seeping into his limbs, so he startled when he almost collided with Elizabeth.
Dumbfounded, he needed a moment before he could speak.
She looked just like she had in his dreams — her dark hair falling freely over her shoulders, her night gown and robe covering her body but revealing her curves, her chest rising at every breath.
“Miss Bennet…”
“Mr Darcy… Sir, how fortunate that we met. I have been praying for an opportunity to apologise to you privately for my mother’s indiscretion.”
“Dr Gardiner already apologised, and we agreed to forget the incident and never mention it again. I hoped he had conveyed this arrangement to you.”
“He did…but still—”
“If we have forgotten it, why are we still speaking about it?” he interrupted her, smiling.
“True… I was just thinking that Miss Bingley was right after all. We have disturbed you quite a lot and ruined your comfort.”
“Miss Bingley is rarely correct. I have enjoyed your presence, despite the accident that caused it.”
“Thank you… I have just been to visit Jane,” she whispered, avoiding his eyes.
“Oh. And how is she?”
“She is better. My uncle believes we may return home the day after tomorrow. Felton is better too. His wife insists on taking him home. My uncle will attend him for a few more days, then he will return to London, and Mr Jones will continue his care.”
“Is the coachman’s house far from Longbourn?”
“No, they live in a cottage just a few minutes’ walk away.”
“I see… Well, I shall not bother you further. It is very late, and I am certain you must wish to sleep.”
“Yes, and you, sir? Forgive me for mentioning it, but you look flushed. Are you sure you have no fever?”
“I am,” he replied, then he drew in a breath as she reached out to touch his forehead. It was an innocent gesture, made out of care, but it drew all his blood to that spot.
“You should ask my uncle for some herbal tea. You seem feverish to me, sir. If you are thirsty, too, that is another sign that I am right,” she said, glancing at the jug.
“I would not trouble Dr Gardiner for nothing, but I thank you for your concern.”
“As you wish, sir. Just remember that, if you do turn out to have a cold, I shall tease you and remind you I was right at least a hundred times. That was our wager.”
“The notion of that is so attractive that I might try to fall ill on purpose.”
He smiled — so did she, then blushed. “That will not be necessary, Mr Darcy. If you enjoy being teased, my father and I shall gladly oblige. We do not need a particular reason. Good night, sir,” she concluded, then entered her room.
Darcy gazed after her, admiring the lines of her body and wondering how a lock of her hair would feel if he were to entwine his fingers in it.
The night passed with little sleep but no more dreams. Knowing that Elizabeth would soon leave Netherfield caused Darcy mixed feelings of regret and relief.
It was not prudent to have her so close to him, and perhaps he could begin courting her properly at Longbourn.
For that, he must have some sort of approval from her to call, and he scolded himself for not being able to ask when they had met in the hall.
But how could he indicate to a young woman that he admired her when they were both so informally dressed?
At breakfast, Dr Gardiner conveyed the news about returning to Longbourn soon.
“Are you sure it is safe to move them?” Bingley asked, looking as disappointed as his sisters were pleased.
“Charles, how can you doubt Dr Gardiner’s decision? He surely knows best,” Mrs Hurst said.
“Your concern is much appreciated, Mr Bingley, but I promise there is no reason for it. I shall write to my brother Bennet immediately to make arrangements for our return tomorrow.”
“But sir, if you need carriages and men to help, you have my entire household at your disposal,” Mr Bingley offered.
“Thank you. That is very generous of you, sir. Now, please excuse me, I shall return to my patients.”
Elizabeth remained a little longer, then she excused herself and left too.
“Well, this is good news indeed,” Miss Bingley declared when the door had closed. “I am eager to return to our usual family routine. The last few days have been quite tiresome.”
“How can they have been tiresome for you, Caroline? You have done what you usually do, which is mostly nothing,” Bingley said severely. “Darcy, would you care to join me for a ride?”
“I would,” Darcy agreed, slightly surprised by his friend’s determination in confronting his sisters.
∞∞∞
Elizabeth chose to read in the library, hardly admitting the real reason even to herself.
As comfortable as her room was, the library was related to Mr Darcy in many ways, giving her a strange exhilaration.
She enjoyed the book he had recommended to her, but her thoughts were engaged elsewhere.
With regret, she reflected that the next day they would return home, and she would see Mr Darcy but rarely.
She had become accustomed to his presence, even if their private conversations were scarce.
Scarce, yet deeply meaningful, at least to her.
However, she could not trust her judgment entirely; when it came to Mr Darcy, she was biased by memories that seemed to affect her present feelings.
And his closeness certainly did not help her to be reasonable.
What would happen when they were separated again?
In truth, what did she expect to happen?
A servant entered and brought her a letter from her father, and she opened it, putting her book down. She began to read, slightly puzzled.
Lizzy dear, it is good you will come home tomorrow. Firstly, because your mother and younger sisters are driving me out of my mind. I have not had a moment of peace. I encourage them to go to Meryton daily, but the bad weather keeps thwarting my plans.
I also have news: the day after tomorrow I am expecting a visit from my cousin Mr Collins.
You know, the one who will one day inherit Longbourn and will throw you out as he pleases.
Your mother is disposed to dislike him, but I am so diverted by his ridiculously pompous letters that I greatly anticipate meeting him.
I trust you to share in that amusement with me.
“Miss Bennet, I am sorry to disturb you… We have just returned from a ride. I shall only take some papers and allow you to read in peace.”
“Mr Darcy! No, do not leave, sir. I was about to go to my room in any case. I was just reading a letter from my father.”
“No unpleasant news, I hope?”
“No…it depends… He is happy that we are to return home, but he has informed me that we are to expect a visit from a cousin—”
She stopped abruptly, and he looked at her, his brows knitted in confusion. She wondered whether she should share such details of her family with him; his presence was both comforting and unsettling, but he was still almost a stranger.
“Is this cousin a problem?” he enquired.
“Not as a person…but he might cause us to find ourselves in a situation similar to that of the Dashwood ladies from the book I am reading,” she said, trying to keep her smile and a light tone.
“I fail to understand you.”
“Longbourn is entailed on the male line. Mr Collins is the one who will one day inherit it, but I hope that will not happen for many years.”
“I see… It must be a delicate situation,” he admitted. “But I agree — Mr Bennet is still healthy, so I see no reason for concern for a long while. Especially with a daughter who knows how to take care of him,” he concluded meaningfully.
She grabbed her letter and book and was about to leave.
“Have you finished the story?” he asked.
“Not yet… But I shall leave it here when I return to Longbourn.”
“I hope you will do no such thing, Miss Bennet. You may keep the book for as long as you like. I just wondered what happened to the Dashwood sisters and how they escaped from the painful circumstances their brother left them in.”
“Oh… I shall let you know as soon as I reach that part, sir.”
“I am counting on it, Miss Bennet. And…there is something else I would like to ask. I just hope you do not mind my boldness.”
“Please do so, Mr Darcy. I doubt anything you ask would trouble me.”
“After you return to Longbourn, I would like to call on your father…and on you… It would give me great pleasure to see you again, unless you do not wish me to.”
He looked hesitant, and she was stunned, hopeful, and distressed. Her heart stuttered, then raced, while her face and neck became unbearably hot.
“I would like that very much, Mr Darcy. I am sure my father would be delighted too.”
With that, she hurried out of the library, fearing he might hear the pounding of her heart and understand the joy growing inside her.