Chapter 6
Soon upon entering the park, Elizabeth’s chest tightened. Feelings she thought she had long ago left behind made their presence known as a result of her returning to the place that had borne witness to one of the most angst-ridden chapters of her life.
She had spent a month at the parsonage as a guest of her sycophant cousin, Mr. William Collins, and his wife, Charlotte, along with the man who would have been her husband had her father and the gentleman himself had their way.
Elizabeth’s realisation that she would never be happy with such a man and that she surely was incapable of making him happy was met with bitterness and harsh accusations when she told him as much.
She would have been helpless had her friend Charlotte not advanced her the funds to travel to London after the bitter parting of the ways with Mr. Geoffrey Collins who had made it clear that he never wished to lay eyes on her again.
Indeed, so much has changed. Geoffrey Collins is my brother, married to my dearest sister, Jane.
What a terrible period it had been indeed.
However, her time in Kent had not been entirely bad.
She had spent many pleasurable hours in Mr. Darcy’s company.
The passing scenery outside her window evoked rousingly pleasing sentimentalities as the carriage drove past the lane that would forever be known as her favourite in Rosings Park, for it was on that lane that he had professed his undying love for her and offered her his hand in marriage.
The spot just over there by the tree is where I first tasted his lips.
Although married for many months, the thought of being in his arms and of being kissed by him for the very first time unleashed a swarm of butterflies in her stomach.
Darcy who had been rather subdued since their initial greeting that morning had caught Elizabeth wholly unawares with the intensity of his plea.
“In vain, I have struggled not to act upon our undeniable attraction to one another, but rather to allow us to become better acquainted without crossing the boundaries of your ill-judged arrangement with your cousin. It will not do.
“It was all I could do not to take you and Ben by the hand and lead you from the church yesterday. It is increasingly heart wrenching to see just how miserable Ben is under the gentleman’s tutelage. It is equally tormenting to witness your suffering, as well.”
Darcy moved nearer to Elizabeth and took her into his arms, as though it were the most natural thing in the world. “I want you, Elizabeth, with every fibre of my being. I want you. You and I belong together. I long to be by your side. I want you to be mine.”
His lips met hers for the very first time. Warm, moist, and inviting, his kiss was all she had dreamed it would be and more. Darcy ceased his amorous attentions to her lips.
“Please, forgive me—for my trespass against you. I had no right. I can offer no excuse other than to confess you mean the world to me. There is not a day that goes by that I do not wish to be with you. I want you in my life; please say you will share the rest of your days with me.”
The abrupt cessation of his lips on hers brought Elizabeth around to her right mind, as well.
Enveloped in his arms felt wonderfully fitting.
Yet, how could it be? Fighting against her body’s own aching desire and her lonely heart’s ardent pleading, she pulled herself from his gentle embrace, turned, and walked a few steps away.
Far too many months had passed before she found herself similarly captured in his loving embrace, despite the fact that she and Ben came to reside at Pemberley, under Darcy’s protection, owing to life’s disastrous turn of events.
It was the night of his second proposal.
Elizabeth’s mind meandered tenderly to that magical time.
The stars were shining brighter than she ever recalled.
The two of them stood on the balcony. Lost in the moment, Elizabeth remained silent throughout as she nestled in his arms. She could not imagine anything more thrilling; the sheer delight of his arm freely resting along her waist, the warmth of his breath tracing softly along her neck, and his hands gently touching hers.
It was such a pleasure for Elizabeth to be ensconced in Darcy’s embrace.
She relished the intoxicating effects of the excitement engendered by his tender, arousing voice.
Then, Darcy unhurriedly relinquished his impassioned hold, though he did not let go of her hand.
“Elizabeth, I have but one wish to voice before we part for the evening … surely you must know what it is. My greatest wish is that you will marry me, that I shall soon be a husband to you and a father to Ben. Please do me the honour of accepting my hand.”
Reminiscences of the adoration that shone on his face when she whispered, “Wish granted,” gently nudged her to the present.
In spite of indulging herself in reflection that was best reserved for solitary hours, Elizabeth smiled in anticipation of what the next three weeks in Kent entailed.
How different it would be visiting Rosings as a member of the family as opposed to the object of fascination to relieve Darcy’s aunt Lady Catherine de Bourgh’s curiosity.
Elizabeth supposed Darcy’s cousin Anne, who now resided with them at Pemberley, was just as anxious at being in Kent once again.
When Lady Catherine had visited them in Derbyshire over Christmas, she made no secret of her desire to have Anne return to Kent where she truly belonged.
Having reconciled herself to the Darcys’ marriage, her ladyship was intent upon making another alliance for Anne—ideally, someone that she had handpicked.
“Anne, you have been very quiet since we entered the park.”
“I am merely taking the time to enjoy the calm before the storm.”
“Surely it will not be so bad as that. Lady Catherine was on her best behaviour at Christmas.”
“Indeed, that is what worries me. It is not like my mother. I fear she was merely biding her time. Now that I am once again in Kent, she likely will stop at nothing in seeing that I remain here.”
“Rosings Park is a magnificent estate and it will be yours one day. I would think you would want to be here,” said Georgiana, as if her sentiments on the matter were not already known.
She and Anne had made some strides, but Elizabeth supposed even a lifetime of felicity would not erase years of bad blood between the cousins.
Elizabeth recalled her husband say that his good opinion once lost was lost forever.
She could well imagine that being Georgiana’s mantra as well.
“I declare, dear cousin, you are more like my mother than you are aware. Have you forgotten I am a guest at your brother’s and Elizabeth’s home—the same as you? We both are the happy recipients of their benevolence.”
“I believe my right to be at Pemberley is inherent in my birth, just as it is your birthright to reside in Kent.”
“I will not argue with you, but it must be said that, as regards being at Pemberley, you and I are on equal footing. We are both merely guests. Once you have fulfilled your legacy of securing a husband, you will discover that on your own. My advice to you is to choose your husband wisely—a dowry of thirty thousand pounds is not much to boast about unless your husband is a man of some consideration in the world, whereas I might choose to marry anywhere I wish, and my prospects will not be diminished one bit.”
Georgiana shifted restlessly in her seat.
She coloured. She said nothing in reply, giving Elizabeth cause to wonder.
Her sister had spoken of being promised to another, although she had been rather vague in her description of the gentleman, and try as Elizabeth might to find out the gentleman’s name, Georgiana had kept that information to herself.
Surely he is a gentleman with the means of providing for Georgiana in a manner suitable to the only sister of one of the wealthiest gentlemen in Derbyshire. Elizabeth knew and understood her husband’s hopes for his sister well enough to know he would countenance nothing less.
The carriage rounded the curve, and there it stood—the sun beaming off the glazing, Rosings was indeed a sight to behold.
Elizabeth recalled Ben’s first time seeing the magnificent place as well as his wide-eyed enthusiasm over its being Camelot.
As for herself, never had Elizabeth been so happy to see the manor house, for it meant a cessation of the cousins’ bickering—if only for a short while.
Darcy was quick to reach the carriage so he might have the pleasure of handing his lovely wife from the carriage himself.
The last leg of the journey had seemed longer than ever before as his mind raced ahead to the pleasures that awaited him once he and Elizabeth were in the manor house and settled comfortably in their rooms. How different this trip to Kent would be over the last. The last was marked by countless nights of loneliness and painful, unsatisfied longings.
Now each night would be spent with his wife in his arms.
After handing Elizabeth from the carriage, it did not take long to see that something was amiss. Georgiana and Anne did not appear very pleased to be there. He looked at his wife. “How did you find the last part of the trip, my love?”
“The carriage ride was comfortable enough, although I cannot say the trip was wholly uneventful.” She threw a glance towards Georgiana and then Anne.
His voice low, his warm breath caressed her ear. “Are the two of them once again at odds?”