Chapter 11 #2
She raised her head and looked at him quizzically. “Yes?”
“Are you happy?”
“Happy? At this moment?”
“Yes.”
“I am.” She smiled brightly. “Can you not tell?”
“I have misread you in the past. I no longer trust my own observations.”
“Fitzwilliam, I am smiling and laughing and the day is perfect. Why would you not think me happy?”
Before he could stop himself, he glanced down to where their bodies were touching and her arm looped through his. He opened his mouth, but no sound came out. Soon he was flushed and looking about for something to say but found himself completely tongue tied.
“Ah, I see. I am confusing you,” Elizabeth said softly.
Darcy looked back at her, his expression still cautious. “Somewhat,” he said lowly.
“Is it unwelcome?” she asked. She moved away from him and began to pull her arm from his.
“No!” He grabbed her hand with his free arm and pulled her back to him, her body crashing against his.
Elizabeth laughed merrily. “So you like it when I sit near you?”
“Yes,” he answered quickly, as if he were afraid she would edge away again.
“Do you like it when I take your arm?”
“Yes.”
She saw his jaw flexing now and held in her laughter. She should not tease him so, but it was in her nature. “Do you like it when I rest my head on your shoulder, or should I not crowd you so?”
Finally realizing he was being teased and recovered from his embarrassment, he raised her hand to his lips. “You may rest your head on my shoulder any time you wish.”
She smiled again and he said haltingly, “Elizabeth, I must ask. Where has this new boldness come from?”
She was surprised at the directness of his question, then thought she should not be—after all, he was Mr. Darcy.
“I was reflecting on our… relationship last evening, and I came to some favorable conclusions.”
“Oh? May I ask what conclusions you came to?”
She took a deep breath. “I realized that this was real.”
“Real?”
“Yes. It had all had a dreamlike quality to it until yesterday. A pleasant dream, but a dream nonetheless. When you told me we had been observed in the garden, I realized I was not just flirting on a holiday.” Her voice softened. “I was being pursued by an honorable man with honest intentions.”
He kissed her hand again. “And that is why you are sitting so delightfully close to me now?”
Elizabeth blushed as he teased her. “Yes, it is.”
“So I should gather that you are amenable to the honest intentions of an honorable man?”
“If you are the man,” she said softly, eyes on her lap.
“Elizabeth, you are cruel.”
Her head snapped up. “What?”
“To tell me such things when I can do nothing about it.” He turned and met her eyes and her breath caught at what she saw there.
“Oh.”
“Indeed.”
The curricle ahead of them had just rounded a corner. Darcy looked about, saw they were alone, and drew the horses to a stop.
He turned to face Elizabeth fully. He placed one hand along the side of her face, reaching from behind her ear to beneath her chin. “Elizabeth, if you do not want me to kiss you, stop me now.”
She swallowed and looked up at him, her brown eyes sparkling brightly. He leaned toward her, ever so slowly, and pressed his lips to hers. He pulled back and looked at her, and seeing her eyes half closed and a dazed expression on her face, he kissed her again, more strongly this time.
Finally, he pulled away, smiled gently at her, and set the horses to walking again.
Elizabeth merely stared ahead, saying nothing.
Darcy was rather smug that he had made her speechless, but his pride in his achievement shifted to wonder when she once again threaded her arm through his, then snuggled in close and rested her head on his shoulder, a soft sigh of contentment escaping her.
Charlotte had a great interest in history, and she led them about the castle grounds, reading from a book she had found on the topic.
Normally, Elizabeth would join her friend in her explorations, but she was too full of thoughts of Mr. Darcy to care about a castle in Kent, no matter how lovely it was.
They began as a group, but soon she and Darcy fell behind. He took her hand in his and guided her away from their party.
“Come.”
She smiled happily and joined him, feeling a rush of excitement and intrigue. Is this what falling in love felt like? Was this romance? Was she in it at this very moment?
They rounded a corner and were in a large garden. There was a stream to one side, the castle on the other, and a maze stretching out before them.
“Shall we try the maze?” she asked gamely.
“Let’s.” He could think of wonderful things to do, lost in a maze with Elizabeth.
The first three turns led them to more choices, but the fourth came to a dead end. Elizabeth turned around, looking disappointed. “We should have gone left at the last crossroads. Or even straight. We will have to remember that the path to the right is a dead end.”
She was about to walk past Darcy when he caught her wrist and gently pulled her back to him, a smile she had never seen before on his face. “In a moment.”
He pulled her to him and kissed her, one hand still on her arm, the other stealing around her waist. Her hands came up to his chest and rested on his lapels, her chin tilted up to meet him.
She was surprised by how quickly she felt comfortable kissing Mr. Darcy.
She had kissed gentlemen in parlor games before, but those had been perfunctory and quick, tiny pecks that she would have given her grandfather.
Mr. Darcy was the first man to kiss her like a lover.
She pulled back and smiled at him, then took his hand and pulled him back the way they had come.
They reached the crossroads and turned left instead of right, Elizabeth attempting to commit the path to memory.
It was difficult when every path looked like all the others, but she was determined.
Darcy could not care about the maze. He would happily stay trapped in it all day if Elizabeth was with him and willing to kiss him.
Each time they reached a dead end, he smiled and pulled her in for a kiss, then dutifully followed her out again.
She became so accustomed to this that when they reached the fifth dead end, she turned to him and tilted her face up in anticipation.
Darcy smiled roguishly and leaned in slowly, relishing the fact that he was here with the woman he loved, and she was happy to receive his affection. He traced one finger down the side of her face, then from her shoulder down to her hand where he tangled his fingers with hers.
Elizabeth’s breath came quicker, and she was sure he must hear her heart beating for how it was thundering inside her. His lips landing on hers were as light as a butterfly, his breath ghosting over her skin and sending shivers up her arms.
He kissed her again and again, first on her lips, then her forehead and cheeks, even the tip of her nose was not neglected. She squeezed his fingers between hers. “Fitzwilliam,” she whispered.
Darcy was overwhelmed. He took a deep breath and pulled her closer, holding her gently in a secluded corner of a maze at a castle in Kent.
“Elizabeth, my dearest heart.”
She wrapped her arms around his waist and pulled him tightly to her, snuggling closer and breathing deeply. He smelled like the forest they often walked in, and of fresh spring grass, and of leather and soap.
They stood there for some time, neither speaking. Elizabeth was filled with the wonder of romance, and Darcy was trying desperately not to ask her to marry him on the spot.
Eventually, they left their corner and found their way to the end of the maze. Darcy remembered there was a stream running beside it and they were able to use the sound of its gurgling to orientate themselves.
“Where have you been?” bellowed the colonel when they rejoined them in the gardens behind the castle.
“We got lost in the maze!” cried Elizabeth cheerily. “Thankfully, Mr. Darcy suggested we follow the stream and we eventually found our way out.”
Charlotte smirked at Elizabeth, which her friend happily ignored, and Colonel Fitzwilliam looked doubtfully at Darcy.
“Did he? Darcy has always been good at finding his way about.”
Darcy scowled at him, but he could not be truly irritated with his cousin. He was entirely too happy. Elizabeth took his arm and began to pull him toward the gardens.
“Come, Mr. Darcy. Maria says there is a beautiful tree blooming with cherry blossoms in the back of the garden.” She turned to face Charlotte. “Shall you join us?”
Charlotte was tempted to tease her friend and say she would join them, but there was an old chapel she still wished to see. “You go ahead. I wish to see more of the castle.”
They parted ways and Elizabeth released Mr. Darcy’s arm and practically skipped ahead. “Isn’t it beautiful?” She spun around in the center path, radiating happiness and vitality.
“Yes, it is lovely.”
She skipped ahead again, wondering if she could get Mr. Darcy to chase her, but he did not seem inclined.
Perhaps it was too public a location. But she could still have a little fun with him.
She saw the blooming cherry tree at the end of garden and hurried to it, quickly ducking beneath its blooms. She went to the far side of the trunk and stood behind it, knowing it was not big enough to hide her entirely, but she was at least not easily visible from a distance.
“Miss Bennet?” she heard him call her name and stayed perfectly still. His footsteps grew closer and she pulled back a little more, hoping the dense blooms would conceal her a moment longer. “Elizabeth.”
His voice was closer than she thought and when she looked over her left shoulder, Mr. Darcy was only a few feet away from her.
“Are you hiding from me?” he asked, an odd expression on his face.
“No,” she smiled. “I am playing with you.”
“Playing?”
“Yes. You are entirely too serious, Mr. Darcy. You need to learn to play.”
He was directly in front of her now, sheltered beneath the canopy of pink blossoms. “Do I?”
“Luckily, I am an expert at playfulness and I can direct you accordingly.”
“Can you now?” He was looming over her, her back against the tree trunk and her head tilted up to face him.
“I can.”
Her eyes were sparkling in that way that drove him mad with wanting her and he could not resist ducking down and kissing her. He was just tasting her lips when Elizabeth cried out.
“Oh!”
Darcy pulled back and looked at the spot on her shoulder she was brushing with her hand. “What is it?”
“Something landed on me.” She was afraid it had been bird leavings, but she did not wish to say so to her beau, so she checked her shoulder as best she could and looked around her for evidence.
A giggle came from above, then they were showered with pink and white petals, falling like rain from the tree.
“Oh!” cried Elizabeth in delight. Now seeing that what had landed on her shoulder had only been a small stick, she was free to enjoy the petals raining down on her.
“You there!”
Mr. Darcy was another matter. He was staring up into the tree and calling to someone. She followed his gaze and saw a small child, no more than nine or ten, sitting high in the tree, shaking a branch and laughing at them as the petals fell down.
“Come down here this instant!” Mr. Darcy cried.
Elizabeth could not help but laugh. Mr. Darcy was a fiercely private person, she knew, and he would not take lightly to having been spied upon in such an intimate moment. But still, it was terribly funny.
She took his hand and tugged him away from the tree. “Come away, Fitzwilliam, there is no harm done.”
He looked at her as if he would ignore her for a moment, but finally he relented and followed a laughing Elizabeth back towards the castle to find their friends.