Chapter 15 #3
“I have been distracted these past few days, and foolishly thought that I could not speak until every other pressing concern was resolved. I am glad you did not give up on my being constant.”
“Oh no, I think until you said otherwise there would have always been a flame of hope alight in my heart.”
There was a hitch in her breath, and Darcy pulled her close again to bring his mouth to hers.
The press of her lips against his sent a wave of longing through him.
She wrapped her arms around his neck and held him tightly, pressing herself against him as he deepened the kiss.
His arm went around her waist and he held her in his embrace, their breath coming in short, panting breaths as Elizabeth welcomed his tongue into her mouth.
What she was doing with her warm lips and tongue set his heart racing at a furious pace.
His thoughts ran to wanting to untie her bonnet and throw it aside so he could kiss a path down her neck and tangle his hand in her hair.
The truth of their circumstances intruded, and he reluctantly stopped doing what was fast becoming his favourite activity.
When she looked at him questioningly, Darcy cleared his throat and gestured to the countryside.
“As secluded a spot as this is now, at any moment a carriage might drive past the hill or a shepherd might come in search of his sheep or other tourists might ascend.” He tried to apologise for kissing her so thoroughly where they might be seen, but she refused to hear him.
“You were distracted by passion and love, and I cannot fault you for that.”
“I did not think I had a heart susceptible to tender passion, dearest Elizabeth, but you unknowingly put love’s torch to it.
” He could not help but kiss her again, and she made a satisfied hum against his lips that nearly drove him mad with desire.
“And every smile, every lively expression, every clever quip fans the flame.”
“And every kiss?” she asked in a low voice.
He tried to look stern when he said, “I could not say. I have not been so lucky as to have enough of your kisses to be certain. It is poss—”
Elizabeth swiftly took his face in her hands and pressed her lips against his, and he kissed her again with slow and thorough attention.
He trembled when her nails scraped along the back of his neck, and she stroked her tongue along his lips before tasting his mouth again.
It took all of his effort to keep his hands firmly on her hips and not allow them to wander.
She gave him a self-satisfied smile when she pulled back, and he was rather pleased to see how swollen her lips were.
Let us hope that lessens before we reach the others.
“We should keep walking,” he said, still breathing heavily. “Do you still wish to reach the summit?”
She shook her head. “I am already breathless, and I am unwilling to chance making it worse for anything less than your kissing me again.”
They decided to wind around the hill and descend the other side to await their friends. This introduced a discussion of the intimacy between Fitzwilliam and Mrs Lanyon.
“I am not unconscious of their fond attachment,” Elizabeth said after he first made the hint.
“Is it fond on both sides? I could not say for certain what Mrs Lanyon feels for him.” She was a quiet woman, and so scrupulously polite that he found it difficult to discern her true thoughts.
“The lady would have to answer to their level of acquaintance,” she said, avoiding his eye.
From her tone, he thought Elizabeth had a stronger idea of Mrs Lanyon’s feelings than she was willing to admit.
“He loves her.” She looked at him in surprise.
“He has not said so, but I know him; he must.” Fitzwilliam would not waste the energy on a woman who gave him no encouragement if he did not have feelings for her.
“I think,” she said hesitatingly, “in general, Hester is afraid of opening herself to ridicule for any reason, including marrying a second time. She has to decide not if she loves him, but if Colonel Fitzwilliam is worth the risk of possibly being judged harshly. She is sometimes judged unfairly simply by walking into the room.”
Darcy shook his head at people like Caroline Bingley. “The world is moving forward. One day we shall neither be favoured nor hindered because of the colour of our skin.”
“That may be true, but I think the degree feels small to a reserved, serious, private person like Hester, particularly as a woman, for women are always judged more severely than men.” After a while, she added, “Given their . . . slips, she cannot be indifferent to your cousin.”
He was astonished that Elizabeth knew that they were, or, at least, that they had been lovers. “I am amazed Mrs Lanyon admitted to an intrigue.”
“I am sure a woman can be a good wife even after having an intrigue. A woman ought not to be assumed to be immoral for taking a lover when men do the same.” He looked at her, both wanting to ask the question and dreading the answer, when she cried, “Oh, not me. I meant Hester. She is widowed, after all.”
“And I did not mean to imply that Mrs Lanyon and Fitzwilliam have loose morals,” he said in earnest. “I was only surprised she admitted it freely since she is so reserved.”
Elizabeth was now blushing fiercely. “Well, both of them are free, after all. What harm is there really to a single person?” She looked about to ask him a question, and then turned away.
“For myself,” he said slowly, “the harm would come from the emotions of the entanglement, the possible disappointment when it ended. That, and the possibility that I could suffer a thousand pains for a pleasure,” he added drily.
“What do you mean?”
How to explain it without being coarse? “I did not want to risk a lifetime of mercury.” Her quiet “Oh” showed she understood him. “But I always thought the emotions required to engage in an affair would be too great a burden after the tryst was over.”
She stopped walking and looked at him intently. “So you . . . you have never . . .?”
He could hardly believe they were having this conversation. It was likely to be discussed, but he had not thought it would take place five minutes after they became engaged. Darcy shook his head.
Rather than appearing mortified by the topic, Elizabeth was looking at him as though she thought him the finest man in the world.
“I have not had any intrigues either.” Her eyes dwelt on his with an ardour he had been unused to behold.
“I hardly think it an intrigue or an indication of loose morals if . . . if said lapse is with the person you intend to marry.”
The idle thought of what Elizabeth might be like as a lover had certainly crossed his mind, but the idea that she was aching to begin stole his breath. Could I take Elizabeth to my bed without every guest and servant at Pemberley learning of it in the morning?
“You were not silent when I asked if you loved me,” she said archly. “Has my boldness silenced you now? Shall we pretend it all unsaid?”
Her natural, very frank manner produced in him a satisfying, delighted feeling. “Oh, no. In fact, whenever we are certain to have absolute privacy, you ought to tell me every bold thought and secret wish you have. But we must be circumspect, especially as our friends do not know of our engagement.”
“How annoying for us both for you to be so sensible and conscious of propriety,” she said teasingly as she resumed walking.
“When do you want to tell them?”
“I could run down this hill crying it out at the top of my lungs, but I also would not mind time to enjoy my newfound happiness before we share it.”
Darcy saw the wisdom of it and agreed to wait another day or two.
His own mind was now relieved from a heavy weight of uncertainty, and after quiet reflection, and perhaps more time in private with Elizabeth, he would be able to speak of his engagement with tolerable composure.
Everything felt too recent to be shared.
“We still ought to write to your father tomorrow,” he said.
“I can tell him how much I have come to esteem and admire you since my mother told him how shockingly rude you were on our first meeting. I will assure him that I can be happy with a man who thought me not handsome enough to dance with.”
He resigned himself to being laughed at with a rueful smile and a quiet apology.
“I know you have much to occupy you,” she said when they rounded Thorpe Cloud and made their descent, the river in sight again, “but are you happy, my dear Darcy?”
“I would be happier if you gave me my name when we are alone,” he said, and she nodded whilst a grin threatened to pull at her lips. “I am happy. And I hope thrice happy shall we be in three weeks.”
“So soon?” Elizabeth laughed and put her arm through his and tugged him closer. “I do want to return to Hertfordshire first, to part from my parents. You are eager considering how long it felt waiting for you to come to the point.”
“Perhaps four or five weeks, then, so you have time to travel home,” he said stiffly, “but I see no reason for a long engagement, do you?”
Elizabeth tilted her head to look directly at him. “Fitzwilliam?” Her voice sounded heavy, as though his name itself was weighty on her lips. His heart was now pounding a little too fast. “I am as eager to marry as you are.”