Chapter 13
ASSUMED TRANQUILITY
The joy on Lady Catherine’s face was nothing in comparison with the abhorrence on Darcy’s. He could not believe what he had just heard his cousin say. He would not believe it. His mouth was still agape when Lady Catherine rose from her seat.
“There you have it, Nephew! It is precisely as I told you. Now, if you will pardon me, I will take my leave of the two of you so that you can discuss this matter—a discussion that is long overdue if you ask me.” She turned and faced Anne’s companion.
“Come along, Mrs. Jenkinson. I believe this assignation warrants a measure of privacy.”
By the time Darcy and Anne were alone, he was pacing the floor.
His complexion was pale with anger, and the disturbance of his mind was visible in every feature.
He was struggling for the appearance of composure and would not open his lips until he believed himself to have attained it.
When he had finally collected himself to discuss the matter with a measure of civility, he approached his cousin in quick steps.
“Anne, what is the meaning of this? What on Earth were you thinking in saying all those things to Lady Catherine?”
She shrugged. In a voice barely above a whisper, she said, “Cousin, I am dreadfully sorry if what I said has caused you pain. It was not my intention to do so.”
“What you said to your mother cannot be true. Did Lady Catherine force you to say that you desire a union between us? Is that why you spoke as you did, out of fear of your mother’s disapprobation?”
“Again, I am sorry if what I said caused you any pain.”
Growing impatient with his cousin’s parroted response, he said, “Pray answer the question.”
Folding her hands in her lap, Anne said, “I believe I already responded to the question—more than once if you will recall when my mother asked me. However, as you seem to have a difficult time comprehending my reply, I shall state it again.” She looked at Darcy squarely in his eyes. “Yes, I desire this union.”
“I do not believe a word of this. It is impossible that you feel this way. Lady Catherine put you up to this! Admit it to me, and allow me to deal with the consequences of your mother’s disappointed hopes. You need not face her at all.”
Anne glared at Darcy. “Why is it impossible, Cousin? Do you suppose that because you are oblivious to my feelings for you they simply do not exist?”
His mouth fell open. “You have feelings for me? You have never spoken of any such sentiments previously. You have given me no hint—shown no symptoms of affection. Why did you not tell me any of this before?”
“You never asked. You never once looked at me except perhaps to show pity. You never really cared how I felt.”
“Anne, I am sorry that you feel this way. I am sorry for whatever part I may have played in contributing to these sentiments. However, if you actually feel this way then why on Earth would you possibly wish for an alliance between us?”
“My mother wants it!” Anne cried with more energy than she was wont to demonstrate. “What is more, our family expects it of us. I expect it of you, even though you have persisted in your stealthy courtship of Miss Elizabeth Bennet almost from the moment you first laid eyes on her.”
Here Anne stood. Showing strength of resolve that Darcy theretofore did not know she possessed, she practically yelled, “I know it all! I know that you have spent nearly every day admiring—nay lusting after—that impertinent young chit under this very roof. In my own home!
“I know that you make a habit of walking with her to the parsonage every chance you get—just the two of you, doing Heaven knows what along the way. I see the way you look at her whenever you two are in company; hear the things you say to her and the things she says to you. All of this right in front of me, leaving me to suffer inside myself—wishing, praying it was the two of us.”
Anne drew closer to her cousin—too close, forcing him to take a step back. “When you and the colonel finally took your leave of Kent, I hoped and prayed that was the end of your trifling infatuation. But it turned out that I was to enjoy no such luck,” she cried.
“Instead, you brought your sister, Georgiana, here; my dearest cousin and the one person whom I supposed would be an ally to me in my quest to earn a modicum of your admiration. You brought her here solely for the purpose of meeting that little upstart, suggesting that your intentions towards the chit are honorable, and further driving a stake through the heart of my chances for the life that is supposed to be mine.”
With assumed tranquility, Darcy responded, “Anne, you are angry. You are in pain for injuries that I may have unintentionally inflicted upon you. Again, I am sorry. As for my intentions for Miss Bennet, I will only say that they are and have always been honorable. Beyond that, I will say no more other than that none of that can have anything at all to do with you. The sooner you come to grips with the fact that the two of us will never be married the better.”
Darcy brushed both hands over his face. Morning had come despite the fact that he barely slept at all.
Troubling thoughts had been his sole companions throughout the night.
There was but one solace for Darcy after his pointless conversations with his relations the evening before.
Elizabeth. He could hardly wait to see her that day, and he wanted to do so away from Rosings.
Thus resolved, he quickly dressed and nearly raced down the stairs and set out down the lane, intending to encounter her.
After wandering about the lanes for some time, Darcy espied Elizabeth heading his way. What a balm catching sight of her was for his restless attitude. He walked towards her with long, determined strides.
“Miss Elizabeth,” he said, bowing when they were close enough.
“Mr. Darcy,” she replied with a slight curtsey. “This is a welcome surprise.”
“I have been walking in the lanes in the hope of seeing you. Are you planning to practice today?”
She nodded. “Indeed.”
“May I prevail on you to walk with me instead?”
His voice, as well as his dark, brooding eyes, spoke of his desire for companionship, and Elizabeth was not inclined to deny him such a request. What was the harm of eschewing practice another day, especially when half of the joy of being at Rosings was the prospect of spending time with him?
“I shall be delighted, sir.” With that, the two of them fell into step beside each other and soon struck a different path.
They walked much farther than usual and soon came across a trail not yet explored by Elizabeth.
“Shall we turn and head back, Miss Elizabeth?” Darcy asked, his voice tentative.
Despite the fact that silence had accompanied them most of the way thus far, Elizabeth said, “I am not opposed to walking a while longer, sir.”
He smiled. “I was hoping you would say that. You see, there is a lovely spot just up ahead. I do not think you have seen anything like it during your visit. I would love to accompany you there.”
“I am placing myself in your hands, Mr. Darcy,” Elizabeth replied, her spirits rising to playfulness. Theretofore, her walking companion had been much too silent and reserved. He wanted nothing but liveliness, she considered, hoping the diversion would serve both of them well.
They did not walk very far before Elizabeth began to appreciate Mr. Darcy’s invitation.
What a beautiful sight to behold, a magnificent stone structure on a slightly rising hill awash in the colors of spring to their fullest effect.
Its presence was neither obstructed by nature nor intrusive on its surroundings.
The weeks that she had now passed in Kent had made such a significant difference to the countryside.
Nowhere are the season’s glories more evident than here, she considered in wonderment. In her haste to ascend the stone stairs to command a better view of such a marvelous place, Elizabeth stumbled.
Darcy came to her rescue just in time. Finding herself in his arms, she turned and faced him.
She was not so much embarrassed by her mishap as she was confounded by the dizzying emotions wrought by her situation.
Never before had she been this close to him, and never before had she seen such a look in his eyes.
The thought of what it must be like to have a man look at her in such a manner every day for the rest of her life stole her breath away.
Standing that close to Elizabeth, holding her in that way, and gazing into her amazing eyes, Darcy gave his mind over to his wildest imaginations.
Two nights previously, he had spent the best part of it dreaming of bringing her to that very spot.
The two of them were lost in the unbridled expression of their mutual desires as true lovers were wont to do.
And during the moment that meant the most, he called out her name: Mrs. Darcy.
Is this, too, a dream? Moistening his lips, he leaned even closer. His eyes met hers and then fell to her slightly parted lips.
What intoxicating madness Elizabeth suffered standing so close to this man; the unknowing of what it would mean if he kissed her, as he was kissing her, and, just as importantly, after he kissed her.
Her sentiments a baffling mixture of bewilderment and yearning, everything she had been taught about how a proper young lady ought to comport herself echoed through her mind. As though lost to all of that, Elizabeth closed her eyes.
Thunder roaring in the distance recalled both Darcy and Elizabeth to the moment. “It sounds as though we are about to suffer a downpour.”
Elizabeth swallowed. “Indeed.”
“If we hurry, I can see you back to the parsonage, safe and unharmed—from the rain.”
Elizabeth nodded.
Ignoring the rise and fall of her bosom proved too tempting. “Or we might remain here a while longer where I will keep you just as safe.”
“My friend may soon worry where I am,” Elizabeth replied, her voice tentative.
“Indeed. Let us get you back to your friend.”
Darcy and Elizabeth then left the stone temple, their pace reflecting an urgency that it did not possess when they arrived and understandably so.
The roaring thunder in the distance and the occasional flash of lightning further confirmed that either one or both of them would fall victims to a massive downpour if they tarried for even a moment.
Their haste proved most opportune for Elizabeth, for it allowed her to sort through what had just taken place.
Mr. Darcy had come so very close to brushing his lips against hers—to kissing her—and she could not rightfully say that she would not have allowed him such a liberty.
She could say for certain that she wanted to accept such intimacy—to relish in it while she could—which puzzled her exceedingly.
It was one thing for her to entertain ideas of what it must be like to be kissed by such a man during her private moments; as a young maiden and a gentleman’s daughter, it was another entirely to act upon them.