Chapter 19 #2
He kissed his sister’s temple, then bowed to Elizabeth, and walked up the stairs to the next floor, their gazes following him.
When they were alone, Georgiana turned a sad face to her friend. “Lizzy, would you like to come in for a few minutes?”
“Of course, dearest. How are you feeling? I noticed dinner was not very pleasant for you.”
“It was pleasant enough, but I felt so bad for the way Emmeline spoke to you. She is so rude sometimes. Oh, silly me, I left my shawl downstairs. I hope Mrs. Nott will hold it until tomorrow.”
“Do not worry. I will fetch it.”
“Lizzy, please stay. I will get it myself. Lizzy —”
Elizabeth was halfway down the stairs, eager to end the incident and the entire evening.
She was irritated, but Darcy’s concern and Georgiana’s distress dissipated her own discomfort.
She congratulated herself on leaving rather than continuing the argument with Lady Emmeline.
It was so ridiculous that it was not worth the effort.
Once back in the dining room, she stopped suddenly behind the now open curtains as she heard the countess’s angry voice.
“Emmeline, what on earth is wrong with you, young lady? How dare you be rude to Miss Bennet? Have you completely lost your mind?”
“Aunt Amelia, surely you cannot blame me for a few questions! That is how we always talk among ourselves. But of course, Miss Bennet is not one of us, or else she would have known how to answer instead of dashing away to hide in her room. Or perhaps she is not as witty as Colonel Fitzwilliam led us to believe.”
“You are such a silly, arrogant girl! You are just like another whom I scolded a few days ago in Hertfordshire. Which is why neither of you has found a husband yet!”
“Aunt Amelia, what are you saying? You cannot possibly —”
“Hush girl! No ‘Aunt Amelia’! I care for you dearly, so I must warn you not to make a complete fool of yourself in public! Miss Bennet did not run to hide; she simply accompanied Georgiana, who was obviously affected by your tasteless jests. And I am sure Miss Bennet struggled not to answer you as you deserved. If she had, you would be the one complaining about being offended; I have no doubt. As for her wit, you are my niece, and I love you, but I truly believe she is smarter than you, better read, and far more knowledgeable.”
“You are unfair,” Lady Emmeline replied. “I do not deserve such a lack of appreciation or such harsh censure!”
“Then behave accordingly! Your father spent a fortune on your education; you should prove he did not waste it. It might as well have been thrown out the window! Earlier today, I spoke proudly to Miss Bennet about our family connection, and now you make me ashamed to be your aunt! How will I face her tomorrow morning?”
“I still do not believe I have done anything wrong! I only asked a few innocent questions.”
“Innocent questions? Do not consider me oblivious to your intentions. You are determined to gain Darcy’s attention, and you would do anything for it.
But you took the wrong path. He not only disliked your appearance here, but he returned to his room to escape your offensive behaviour towards his guest.”
Elizabeth was startled by Mrs. Nott, who touched her arm gently.
“Miss? May I help you with something?”
“No…I…Miss Darcy forgot her shawl, and I came to find it.”
“Oh, let me look for it, and I will take it to Miss Darcy’s room right away. There is no need for you to wait here.”
“Of course. Thank you,” she answered and left in haste, surprised by the conversation she overheard. A clap of thunder near the inn let her know that the rain had started.
∞∞∞
Although he left the dinner table rather early, Darcy spent almost two more hours with the colonel, talking and enjoying Mr. Nott’s finest brandy.
“This room is pretty small,” the colonel said as he sipped his drink.
“It is; it was the only one available, so I offered mine to Miss Bennet, and I moved here. It will do for one night.”
“True. But the brandy is good.”
“It is; Nott always provides good food and drink,” Darcy declared.
“Dinner was excellent indeed,” the colonel admitted. “A pity it did not last longer.”
“An unfortunate conversation always ruins any dinner,” Darcy answered coldly.
“Agreed, but you must know that, once you departed, Lady Hardwick scolded Emmeline quite harshly.”
“That is little compensation for her rudeness. If it were not for the embarrassment it would cause Miss Bennet and Georgiana, I would have censured her myself. I know I am not the most amiable person, and my manners are neither easy nor pleasant most of the time. There have been times when I preferred not to engage in conversation with people who happened to be nearby. But I hope I never found pleasure in offending someone gratuitously.”
“You have not; although, your manners could use improvement and softness on occasion.”
“I am glad you are amused; at least one of us is. Surely, Miss Bennet is not inclined to laugh at her own expense,” Darcy replied.
“Well, I would say she is inclined to do just that. Miss Bennet is a young lady with an excellent sense of humour.”
“She is, but rudeness is never humorous. I cannot possibly understand how Emmeline came to behave in such a way. How is it her business that Miss Bennet was invited to Pemberley?”
“Well…she might be jealous,” the colonel said tentatively.
“Jealous because Georgiana preferred Miss Bennet to her? That is ridiculous.”
“Not quite. I believe she feels Miss Bennet might be a rival for your favours. I have seen such behaviour in ladies many times.”
Darcy filled his glass and remained with his back to his cousin so as not to face him.
“That is even more ridiculous. Does any woman believe that rude behaviour and offensive manners are an inducement to gain a man’s attention?”
“Well, they must try something, especially with a man as aloof and haughty as you are.”
“Even more reason for a woman not to want my attention. Let us end this discussion. Tomorrow I intend to leave very early. Will you join us since your destination is closer to ours than to the Livingston estate?”
“Yes; I will inform the others and come with you. But I hope that, tomorrow at breakfast, Emmeline changes her behaviour and maybe even apologises to Miss Bennet.”
“Perhaps. I forgot to ask: How are your parents? And your brother?”
∞∞∞
Their discussion continued until fatigue and brandy overcame them. The rain had begun, and its patter, together with a lack of sleep the previous nights, soon threw Darcy into a deep sleep.
It did not last long, however. Rest was replaced by agitation just as the sound of the rain became silence, and he woke up. His head was still foggy, and he felt unbearably warm.
He tried to remove the blankets from around him, but something prevented his doing so.
He stretched his hand to remove the obstacle, and he froze when his hand touched the softness of a gown.
He slowly rose on his elbow and glanced at the silhouette in a deep, peaceful sleep.
He could only see a back with long, thick brown hair falling loosely on the shoulders.
Warmth increased, as did an intoxicating scent.
His breath caught as he had no doubt it was Elizabeth.
Somehow, he must have left his room and mistakenly entered the one he was accustomed to.
Darcy dared not move, but he knew he must.
Slowly, he attempted to leave the bed. He threw a last glance at the soft form in the bed, and panic made him still. She was turning to him, moaning sweetly through her sleep until she woke up. Her eyes glittered from behind long eyelashes, and a shy smile greeted him.
“Do not leave…stay a little longer,” she whispered, and amazement stilled him.
Her breathing became irregular, moving her throat and breasts enchantingly. Her lips parted, and she stretched her hand to him. The nightgown glided from her shoulders, and only the locks of hair sheltered her skin from his greedy eyes.
He knew he should leave —he should run —instead, he leant towards her until they almost touched.
His lips brushed hers as his torso pressed against her until their bodies touched and their hearts started to beat together.
Her tentative fingers caressed his hair and moved around his neck.
Then his mouth captured hers, tasted it, savoured it, until the need for air made him stop and withdraw from her reluctantly in painful sorrow…
∞∞∞
Darcy woke almost violently from his tormenting dream. The awakening was so abrupt that he nearly fell from the bed.
He looked around in complete panic and realised he was alone in the small room. Of course she was not there. Of course it was only another mortifying fabrication of his troubled mind.
He rushed to wash his face then opened the window widely. The rain had stopped —that was the only fact. He opened his shirt as he still felt he could not breathe. A gentle breeze was blowing, and he leant out the window as much as he could, allowing the wind to chill his inner heat.
Everything was dark except for the torches that guarded the inn. To his left on the lower floor, another window was open.
He remained still, and his knees weakened as he recognised Elizabeth’s figure wearing nothing but a nightgown, her hair playing in the wind. He wished to withdraw but had not the strength to abandon the bewitching image.
When she turned to him, their eyes met; it was too dark for him to read the expression on her face, but she did not avert her gaze.
He knew he should say something, or at least wave to her or give the reasonable response of a proper gentleman.
But he could not; the taste of her lips and the memory of her scent —though not real, just the result of his imagination —were too vivid to allow him to think rationally.
So he just took a step back and closed the window. The room became unbearably warm, and it appeared to shrink, weighing heavily on his shoulders. So he opened the window again but remained away from its frame. Finally, he dared to steal a glance; the window of Elizabeth’s room was closed.
∞∞∞
The night was late and dark; the patter of rain had stopped after hours of splashing rhythmically on the window, and it was the perfect, complete silence that awoke Elizabeth.
At first, she was confused about her location.
She felt herself shivering and wrapped herself in the blankets.
But then she became warm and thirsty and went to the small table to pour herself some water.
She glanced back at the large bed with its four pillows.
Two of them were not even used. Both the bed and the pillows were too large for her, just as the bed in the smaller chamber was probably too small for Darcy.
She should have taken the other room, but he would brook no argument.
He wished to be certain she was comfortable, but she was not, and her sleep was restless.
The image of him sleeping in the same bed on another night was disturbing. Not unpleasant. Not distressful. Only disturbing, thrilling, stirring.
She knew that her thoughts were unreasonable, embarrassing, even shameful, but she could not escape them.
Just as she could not escape the recollection of his closeness, his touch, or his scent that had troubled her since dinnertime.
She had never known such a storm of feelings from the mere nearness to a man.
She could have moved her chair a few inches away to be sure their bodies would not brush against each other. But she did not. He could have done the same if he wished. He was at the end of the table —for him it would have been even easier. And yet, he preferred not to.
What was happening to her? She was there to keep Georgiana company.
To take care of her. To provide that sweet girl the peace, comfort, and support she needed.
Instead, she was making a fool of herself.
She must gather herself and keep her head clear.
She had to be more careful. She should avoid being too close to him.
Her behaviour was neither proper nor reasonable in his presence.
She turned to the bed again, and a sense of panic enveloped her. Should she go back to sleep? Or perhaps just wait for morning to come?
Elizabeth opened the window, yearning for fresh air, and she breathed deeply the scent of early autumn washed by the rain.
There was little to be seen as the moon and the stars were hidden by the clouds.
A few torches lit the yard of the inn, their fire flickering with the breeze.
A sense of calm enveloped her, and she closed her eyes, bending out over the window frame.
Then a shiver ran down her spine, and her heart fluttered for no apparent reason.
She opened her eyes and glanced up the dark wall of the building.
She startled then remained still, astounded, her gaze frozen.
On the upper floor —at a small window lit by the torch burning behind it —stood Darcy.
He was looking outside, his white shirt unbuttoned and his hair in disorder.
Mesmerised, Elizabeth watched his head slowly turn, his gaze falling upon her and seeming to burn her face.
Their eyes met and held for a long, heavy moment; then he gradually retired and closed the window.
She needed time to regain her composure and reluctantly do the same. With hesitant steps, she returned to the bed, lay down, and pulled the blankets around her. A few minutes later, she took one of the extra pillows and embraced it, but the tremor inside her was not to be soothed until dawn.