Chapter 28
Elizabeth arrived at the Meryton assembly as the last set was coming to an end. She spent half an hour receiving the congratulations of friends and neighbors on behalf of Kitty. All the while, as she murmured her thanks, she searched the masses for a tall, sober visage.
When the crowds had finally thinned out, she gave up hope and trudged out to Bingley’s carriage. The entire ride to Netherfield, she wondered if maybe he was just a figment of her imagination.
The house was dark and quiet when Elizabeth arrived, and she quickly made her way to her rooms. Even after changing into a nightgown—with the help of a sleepy maid—and snuggling into the soft feather bed warmed with bricks, she was unable to sleep.
After tossing and turning for what seemed like hours, she arose from her bed in frustration and donned a robe. Perhaps if she went to the library, she could find the most boring tome imaginable to lull her into slumber. A treatise on crop rotation or a book of sermons should do the trick.
As she stepped out of her room, she noticed light coming from underneath the door of one of the other chambers in the guest wing. Given that it was three in the morning, it was too early for the maids to be at work lighting fires. Besides, as far as she knew, she was the only one staying in that part of the house; the Bingleys and Hursts were both in the family wing.
Darcy!
In an instant, she knew—Darcy was in Hertfordshire, and he was staying at Netherfield!
But why did no one tell her?
Flashes of the day flew through her memory, including Bingley’s insistence she leave the house for a time before preparing for the assembly. Perhaps it was meant to be a surprise? Then why wouldn’t he have stayed to speak with her at the ball?
Then it all clicked. The pieces fell into place: dancing with Wickham, speaking privately, him kissing her hand, going to her father, and the announcement of an engagement with her mother’s shrieks drowning out the name of the Bennet daughter to become betrothed.
Oh Lord, he thought I was the one to become engaged tonight.
She stared at his door, wondering what to do. Everything inside of her yearned to knock and explain herself right this instant. But another voice in her head reminded her that doing so would violate every rule of respectability and decorum.
Hang propriety.
Whether it was the lateness of the hour, the punch she had drunk, or the adrenaline from having slapped her sister, Elizabeth felt as though she were in the thrall of a fae’s enchantment. Throwing caution to the wind, she closed the distance between herself and Darcy’s chamber and knocked.
The sound seemed to break the spell, and suddenly all her inhibitions returned. She froze, fervently hoping that the candle had been left lit by accident. Alas, the door opened to reveal Darcy dressed only in a loose tunic hanging out of a pair of trousers, an unbuttoned banyan hanging from his frame.
Behind him, his valet had frozen while placing items into a trunk. The two men gaped at her. Flushing in embarrassment, she spun around and fled.
In her confusion, Elizabeth had turned the wrong direction and was halfway down the corridor before realizing her rooms were behind her.
“Miss Bennet!”
Footsteps told her that Darcy had chosen to pursue her instead of shutting the door. She closed her eyes in dismay and debated continuing her escape, but she knew she would only be postponing the inevitable. Instead, she bowed her head and waited for him to catch up.
She could sense, rather than see, when he reached her side. “I am so sorry, Mr. Darcy,” she said as soon as he was near. “I should not have disturbed you in your chambers. I can only blame the lateness of the hour and indulgences of the evening for my impulsive behavior.”
“I… I quite understand,” he replied.
“I had not known you were in residence, you see,” she added, “and I was surprised by a light coming from a vacant room.”
“Naturally, naturally.”
A few seconds of awkward silence passed before Darcy said stiffly, “Please allow me to congratulate you on the happy news.”
“Oh, yes!” In her unsettled state, she had almost entirely forgotten everything. She paused to form her words carefully, then said with great emphasis, “Major Wickham will be very happy being married to my sister Kitty.”
“Your—your sister?”
She spoke quickly, her words running together. “Yes, my father announced their engagement this evening at the Meryton assembly. The major was hesitant to ask for my sister’s hand, as he was afraid that even with your generous gift—of which I was aware—he would not be able to support my sister in the style with which she was accustomed. As I am more familiar with my family’s financial situation, I strongly encouraged him to speak with my father immediately, as things were not what they appeared—or were rumored—to be. He was grateful for this information and left immediately to speak with him. Their betrothal was announced a few minutes later, along with Jamie’s and Penny’s. I am very happy for all of them.”
There was silence, then a hoarse, “Oh, thank you, Lord.”
A laugh burst out of her, mingled with a sob. She twisted around to face him, and suddenly she was in his arms in a warm embrace. Her face was pressed into his chest, and she could feel the heat of his skin through the thin linen of his shirt.
“I thought I’d lost you,” he murmured against her hair.
“When I couldn’t find you after the announcement, I thought perhaps you were merely my imagination come to life.”
She could feel his smile against the top of her head. “How so?”
Elizabeth was grateful her face was hidden—and that it was dark—because her cheeks were burning. “I’ve… I’ve missed our discussions, so I’ve taken to walking in the groves and imagining that I’m actually speaking with you.”
When he didn’t respond, she tried to pull away, feeling a bit foolish. Instead, he held her more fiercely. “Each day without you has been agony. It was all I could do to keep from saddling a horse to ride immediately after you as soon as Georgiana received your note.”
The tension in her shoulders melted away at these words. “Then why didn’t you?” she asked, the lightness in her voice indicating her intent to tease.
He chuckled. “Believe me, I considered it more than once. As appealing as that sort of grand gesture seemed, the more pragmatic realities of life superseded all else. I had Georgiana to consider, of course—”
“Most certainly!”
“As well as business matters that could not be delayed. Not to mention commitments and engagements that had long been scheduled. Many people look at my position and income and think I lead a life of leisure, but the reality is that my time is very rarely my own.”
She murmured something vague in agreement, beginning to be distracted by the heady scent emanating from his warm skin.
“Additionally, I wasn’t entirely certain as to the state of your sister’s health. Thus, being unsure of your feelings towards myself, I did not wish to intrude if I wasn’t wanted.”
Shaking her head, she snuggled in closer, wrapping her arms around his waist. A low rumble sounded in her ears from his chest as he pulled her flush against him.
“I wished you were here every single day,” she whispered. “It wasn’t until we were apart that I realized that you were exactly the man in disposition and talents who most suited me.”
“Indeed?”
“Yes, for your understanding and temper—while quite unlike my own—answers all of my wishes. My ease and liveliness softens your mind and manners; and your judgment, information, and knowledge of the world increases my experiences.”
“We make quite a formidable team together, then,” he said.
“Precisely,” she replied. “Only I did not know what would happen next. You might have had your commitments and engagements to keep you occupied, and perhaps you were even so distracted that you were able to forget me for a time, but it is different for a woman. We live at home, quiet, confined, and our feelings prey upon us. Mine certainly did.”
“I must beg to disagree—I could not have forgotten you. Throughout every single moment, for you alone I thought and planned. I was half agony, half hope. You pierce my soul, Elizabeth.”
She shivered at his use of her name, and he groaned at the movement of her body against his. The air around them crackled with tension as they stood in the dark hallway, their hearts pounding in sync with the rhythm of the night. She had never felt closer to anyone, her every sense heightened by his proximity.
She pushed her head back from his chest to look up at him. Their eyes locked, a silent understanding passing between them, as if they were each waiting for the other to make the first move. And then, almost as if drawn by an invisible force, their lips met in a hesitant, tender kiss.
It was stirring, beyond anything she had ever felt, sending sparks dancing across their skin as they melted into each other’s embrace. Time stood still as they lost themselves in the sweetness of the moment, their hands entwined, their bodies pressed together in a silent declaration of love.
All too soon, he pulled back, his breaths coming in short gasps. “Elizabeth,” he groaned, “if we continue…”
His voice trailed off, his words hanging in the air between them like a delicate thread, tantalizing and full of promise. She could see the conflict in his eyes, the desire warring with restraint, the longing for more tempered by the fear of crossing a line they could never return from.
But with the moonlight casting shadows across his face and the scent of roses lingering in the air, she knew that she wanted nothing more than to lose herself in his arms, to surrender to the passion that burned between them.
Taking a shaky breath, she gently traced the line of his jaw with her fingertips, her touch sending shivers down his spine. “I want this,” she whispered, her voice barely a breath against his skin. “I want you.”
His resolve crumbled in an instant, swept away by the intensity of her gaze and the raw emotion in her voice. With a low growl of desire, he crushed his lips to hers once more, his hands tangling in her hair as he deepened the kiss, pouring all his longing and devotion into the embrace.
His hands slid lower down her back, then further still, and she gasped in shock at the sensation of being touched in a way she never had been. The realization of her innocence poured over his head like a glass of cold water.
He jerked away from her, putting several steps between them. “No,” he panted. “I will not dishonor you like this.”
His voice faltered, the urgency of their desires clashing with the constraints of propriety. They were walking a dangerous line, tempting fate with every stolen moment together.
Elizabeth’s heart raced as she looked into his eyes, seeing the same struggle reflected in his gaze. She felt the warmth of his touch lingering on her skin, igniting a fire within her that she knew she should resist. But the pull of their love was too strong to ignore, the desire to be close to him overwhelming her senses.
Cool air rushed into the space where Darcy had been. Elizabeth wrapped her robe tightly around her, tying the sash firmly to keep it in place. “I know,” she whispered, her voice barely audible above the sound of the night. “We should wait… until we are wed?”
The last was spoken as a question, hanging in the air. She held her breath and twisted her fingers together absentmindedly; while his actions demonstrated he wanted her—and even that he loved her—she realized they had yet to actually speak about anything of substance.
I am just as much a fool as Kitty and Lydia are, she thought with a wry laugh. So much for my expert advice this evening that if a man is really in love with you, he’ll speak with your father and not solicit favors in private.
“Until we are wed,” he repeated, sending a jolt of relief through her. “I shan’t ask you now though. This isn’t the proper time or place; you deserve better. But tomorrow, I will speak with Bingley and your father to secure their permission. Then, when the time is right, I will tell you exactly how much I ardently admire and love you.”
∞∞∞
The very next morning—or rather, the same morning—Darcy was true to his word. He informed Bingley of his intent to propose to Elizabeth, then rode over to Longbourn and did the same with Mr. Bennet. Elizabeth sent a note along with him to assure her father that no, this wasn’t all a good joke at his expense.
Apparently, the letter wasn’t sufficient to satisfy the patriarch’s doubts. Two hours later, Darcy returned with Mr. Bennet, who demanded a private audience with Elizabeth.
He stalked about the room, looking grave and anxious. “Lizzy, what are you doing? Are you out of your senses to be accepting this man? Have not you always hated him?”
How earnestly did she then wish that her former opinions had been more reasonable, her expressions more moderate! It would have spared her from explanations and professions which it was exceedingly awkward to give, but they were now necessary.
“No, Papa. I did not always like him as well as I do now, but I do like him.”
“Well, now, he is rich, to be sure, and you may have more fine clothes and carriages than any of your other sisters, but will they make you happy?”
“Have you no other objection at all than your belief of my indifference?”
“None at all. We all know him to be a proud, unpleasant sort of man, but this would be nothing if you really liked him.”
She stamped her foot. “Oh, Papa! Did you not hear me? I said, I do like him! I love him, Father. He has no improper pride at all, but he is perfectly amiable in every way. You do not know him; not like I do. Please do not pain me by speaking of him in such a way.”
“Lizzy,” said her father, “I have given him my consent. He is the kind of man, indeed, to whom I should never dare refuse anything, which he condescended to ask. I now give it to you, if you are resolved on having him. But let me advise you to think better of it. I know your disposition, Lizzy. I know that you could be neither happy nor respectable unless you truly esteemed your husband, unless you looked up to him as a superior. Your lively talents would place you in the greatest danger in an unequal marriage. You could scarcely escape discredit and misery. My child, let me not have the grief of seeing you unable to respect your partner in life.”
Elizabeth then spent the next half hour telling him about her time in London; more specifically, how she had spent many hours in conversation with Darcy and watching him interact with people of different levels of society. She told him about Georgiana, and Wickham, and even the fight she and Darcy had before he left Netherfield. In short, she told him everything.
Well, almost everything.
“Well, my dear,” said he when she ceased speaking, “I have no more to say. If this be the case, he deserves you. I could not have parted with you, my Lizzy, to anyone less worthy.”
He stood from his chair and gave her a gentle kiss on her forehead before saying, “Now, if any young men come for Lydia, send them to me at once, for I am quite ready to be rid of her as soon as may be.”
She gave a surprised giggle and followed him out of the room towards the parlor, where Darcy waited impatiently. He looked from one to the other, hands clasped behind his back and shoulders rigid and straight.
“No need to look so alarmed, son,” Mr. Bennet said. “My daughter has been singing your praises, which have convinced me to give my blessing as well as my permission.”
The tension in Darcy’s body melted away so quickly that Mr. Bennet let out a bark of laughter. “I admire all four of my sons-in-law highly. Collins, perhaps, is my favorite, but I think, Lizzy, that I shall like your husband quite as well as Jane’s.”
Thinking of her other sisters caused Elizabeth to let out a quiet groan. When the two gentlemen looked at her in puzzlement, she said, “Perhaps we could keep this to ourselves for a while? After all, Mr. Darcy has not yet officially asked me to marry him. He is only securing the permission of my guardian.”
Mr. Bennet chortled. “Trying to keep the news from your mother, eh?” Elizabeth blushed, and Mr. Bennet said in a high-pitched voice, “Good gracious! Lord bless me! Only think! Dear me! Mr. Darcy! Who would have thought it? And is it really true? Oh, my sweetest Lizzy! how rich and how great you will be! What pin-money, what jewels, what carriages you will have! Ten thousand a year, and very likely more! ’Tis as good as a lord! And a special license—you must and shall be married by a special license. Such a charming man! so handsome! so tall! Dear, dear Lizzy. A house in town! Everything that is charming! Four daughters married! Ten thousand a year! Oh, Lord! What will become of me? I shall go distracted.”
It was all she could do to keep from losing control in the hilarity. Tears flowed down her face as her father perfectly mimicked her mother, even down to the fluttering of her hands and the way that she pranced about. She glanced at Darcy, whose jaw was working furiously to keep from bursting into laughter himself. His eyes danced with mirth, betraying the effort he was exerting to maintain his composure.
Unfortunately for Darcy, Bingley and Hurst came into the room just as Bennet was finishing his act.
“Here now, what’s all this? I say, Mr. Bennet, are you unwell? You sound as if you’ve caught a cold.”
Darcy’s amusement could be heard all the way to the kitchens.