Chapter 10 #2
A half hour after their arrival at Bromley, Darcy received unfortunate news from his driver.
Their departure would be delayed because of fallen tree limbs in the road just outside the town.
It would be at least an hour or two before the debris was cleared.
Darcy determined that Richard would not have this time alone with Elizabeth.
Having informed Mrs. Annesley there would be a delay in their embarking upon the final leg of their journey and having settled her by the fireplace of the inn, he set about locating his other travelling companions.
Where has Richard run off to with Elizabeth?
Recalling how his sister boasted of Elizabeth’s love of the outdoors, Darcy ventured onto the street. He espied Richard and Elizabeth walking arm and arm, pausing now and again to peer into shop windows. He joined them.
“Richard, would you mind returning to the inn and attending Mrs. Annesley? I should like a moment with Miss Elizabeth.”
Both Elizabeth and Richard’s faces bore the question of why he had left Mrs. Annesley’s side if she was in such urgent need of attention.
Elizabeth supposed Mr. Darcy was in the habit of arranging things for his own convenience, and this was one such instance.
Richard walked away, and Elizabeth accepted Darcy’s proffered arm.
He led her in the opposite direction. “What are you about, Mr. Darcy?”
“There is a delay. I was of a mind to enjoy a leisurely stroll, and I thought you might enjoy it as well. My sister told me you have a fondness for walking.”
“Whenever the prospect of a walk exists, you will find me easily persuaded. However, why did you not mention it to your cousin?”
“I had no desire to walk with my cousin.”
They drifted along in silence, prompting Elizabeth to wonder what his purpose was if he meant to be silent and taciturn. Well, he had rattled her composure quite enough for one day. If they were to have any conversation at all, he would have to be the initiator.
A distant rumble pierced the silence. It started to sprinkle, first a tiny drop and then another. Darcy said, “Perhaps we should return. The skies look threatening.”
They turned to head back, but they did not go very far before the skies opened, forcing Darcy and Elizabeth to seek the closest shelter they could find. It was an old stable. By the looks of the place, it was abandoned. It was dry and thus it would have to do.
Darcy looked at Elizabeth. Her bonnet was dripping wet, streams of water traced paths down her face. Her light spencer was soaked. Without speaking, he removed his great coat, shook off the rain, and stepped nearer to drape it over her shoulders.
Disturbed by his intentions, she took a step back. “No, I do not expect you to give up your coat for me.”
“I insist,” he said. He completed his mission and lingered a bit while doing so.
They were standing so close to each other, summoning her to their last dance.
Unable to resist, Elizabeth studied his face.
Her eyes traced a pattern from his slightly parted lips, to his eyes, back to his lips once more.
Why have I never noticed his lips, that tiny scar?
She reached up and gingerly traced her fingers across it.
Darcy grasped her hand, suddenly yet gently.
A frisson of panic arose in her chest. She did not know what to make of the abruptness of his act.
Utterly confused by the dark, clouded look in his eyes, she supposed he was just as likely to scold her or bestow a tender kiss.
He lowered her hand, released it, and stepped away.
She exhaled. “Will you tell me what happened?”
“I fell from a horse when I was young—very young and daring.”
His heartbeat racing, Darcy walked to the door and slid it open.
He looked outside at the passing storm and filled his thoughts with anything that might keep his increasingly aching desire at bay.
It had been difficult enough to maintain his control in the carriage, but alone with her in such an intimate setting as this, solely the two of them, with a door that might easily be secured if necessary to ensure their privacy—it was too much for an honourable man with no intention of marrying even to contemplate. How she tempts me like no other woman!
Darcy continued staring outside the door in silence.
Are my unguarded attentions to Elizabeth affording in her a sense of expectation?
What was the point in denying it any longer?
He wanted her. Of course, he would never have her.
Never. Needing to see her, he turned to face the object of his ardent desire.
She stood at a window on the far side of the ramshackle structure.
How beautiful she is. It was all he could do not to stare.
Powerless to do otherwise, Darcy drifted to where she stood.
He fought the urge to trace his fingers along the small of her back.
Instead, he stood directly behind her. He clasped his hands behind his back lest his arms take on a mind of their own, reach out, and embrace her.
Surely his lips would commence a slow, sweeping exploration of her long slender neckline as they had almost insisted upon doing in the carriage.
Elizabeth turned to face him, rendering them even closer.
They stared into each other’s eyes with intent.
Darcy’s former state once again threatened arousal. At length, he said, “The storm is letting up.”
Elizabeth nodded. She said nothing.
“Shall we head back to the inn?”
She bit her lower lip. “Perhaps we should.”
His hands still clutched behind his back, he moved aside and encouraged her to walk ahead of him. He silently moaned. It will not do. I must conquer this longing I suffer for this woman. Soon enough, the inn was in view, and Darcy assisted Elizabeth with the removal of his coat.
A stranger approached them. “The roads are impassable, good sir. If you and your lovely wife are planning to head south, I am afraid you would be better served to secure lodgings for the night.”
Darcy nodded in acknowledgment. Placing his fingers along her back, he escorted Elizabeth inside and led her to a comfortable seat by the fire. “I shall locate Richard and Mrs. Annesley and notify them of the change in plans.”
“Perhaps the roads are not as bad as all that. We might—”
Darcy knelt beside her and placed his finger upon her lips to hush her.
Remembering himself, he removed it just as quickly.
“Miss Elizabeth, I do not rely solely upon that gentleman’s account.
You are in no condition to travel. Your things are wet.
You are under my protection, and I will not have it said I did not deliver you safe and sound and well to your friends in Kent. ”
Scantily attired in nothing more than her thin linen chemise, she paced back and forth before the blazing hot fire.
Mr. Darcy’s behaviour had confounded her, but it was nothing in comparison to her own.
What on earth had possessed her to trace her finger along his lips?
Surely he must think I am wanton. Or even worse, that I mean to tempt him with my feminine arts and allurements when nothing can be further from the truth.
She ceased pacing and stared into the fire.
Mr. Wickham’s words silently echoed throughout the room.
“Her daughter, Miss de Bourgh, will have a very large fortune, and it is believed that she and her cousin will unite the two estates.” In light of what Mr. Wickham had said, what would be the point in Elizabeth’s foolish musings?
In spite of my ridiculous cousin’s assertion that Miss de Bourgh is of a sickly constitution, what has that to do with precluding a match where there is the matter of combining two great estates?
She caught her breath. Does Mr. Darcy mean to dally with my affections knowing there can never be anything more between us owing to his obligations to his family?
I must stop this at once. I shall not assign nefarious intent to Mr. Darcy’s motives when I have nothing to blame but my own body’s traitorous responses to his every look, his every whisper, his every touch.
Yes, he stares at me more often than not, but he is just as likely to be looking to find fault rather than as a means of pleasure.
Elizabeth wrapped her arms around her shoulders.
She immediately recalled the weight of his great coat draped about her and how wonderfully safe and protected it rendered her during the rainstorm.
Most of all she remembered how pleasingly intoxicating it smelled—the scent of sandalwood and spice, which lingered on her body still.
Imagine the stranger assuming that Mr. Darcy and I are married.
More than a few times after first seeing his magnificent estate in Derbyshire and studying his likeness in the gallery, she had imagined what it must be like to be mistress of Pemberley.
That was before she met him and judged for herself that he was just as her family and Mr. Wickham had proclaimed him: haughty and proud and expecting that everyone connected with him should have an understanding of the first class.
His cousin is nothing like him. What is more, I actually like the colonel, and I think he likes me. Surely her time would be better spent dwelling upon what might be with the colonel, who despite being the son of an earl, could never be accused of anything dishonourable, as best she could tell.
Not long after the maid placed Elizabeth’s wet things before the fire to dry, Elizabeth was fully dressed once again.
Feeling quite restless, she decided she would not have dinner in her room as Mr. Darcy had dictated, but she would seek the gentlemen’s company instead.
Mr. Darcy is being overly cautious. If she were truly to get to know the colonel better, she planned to take advantage of whatever opportunities presented themselves over the coming days and weeks.
Once the innkeeper and the servant girl quit the private dining room where the gentlemen awaited their meal, the colonel set his ale aside and turned to his cousin. “I was not asleep the entire duration of our journey from town.”
“And you chose to pretend you were, because?”
“I wanted to see what you were about. Your behaviour towards Miss Elizabeth is such that I have never seen before. Why do you pretend to hold the young woman in contempt one moment, and the next you behave the jealous lover?”
Darcy huffed. “Without conceding to your outlandish characterisation of my behaviour, I will say were you privy to the unsettling knowledge of her family, you would understand.”
“You are very hard on her family in general when you spent but a few days in Hertfordshire. Perhaps you misjudged them.”
“What little time I spent in their presence was more than enough. The eldest daughter is a schemer. The mother is calculating. The three younger daughters are silly beyond compare.”
“What of the father?”
“I had no opportunity to make his acquaintance, but I can scarcely allow him to be any more tolerable than the rest of the lot. A father has a great deal of influence over the comportment of his family.”
Darcy went into some detail in accounting for his weariness where the people of Meryton in general were concerned, including how he had admonished his friend Charles Bingley against a most unfortunate alliance.
Why on earth would I allow myself a similar fate?
He heard a creak just outside the door and he looked over and noticed it was left ajar by the attending servant.
The last thing he needed was to be overheard.
Darcy bolted from his chair and went to the door.
He opened it. Elizabeth stood there with her hand poised to knock. “Miss Elizabeth.”
“Mr. Darcy.”
An awkward pause ensued. Darcy did not know what to make of her being there. “I thought you were having dinner in your room.”
“I decided I would rather not dine alone.”
“Of course, you are welcome to join us.” He stepped aside and allowed her to pass. Darcy did not know how to look or how to feel. How long has she been standing outside the door?