Chapter 37
An exquisite sensation on her skin awakened her, and she was not certain if it was the softness of the sheets, her gown, or the traces of her husband’s caresses. Had it really happened? Was it true? Was it real or a glorious dream from which she would awaken soon with regret and longing?
With her eyes still closed, she let the tip of her tongue dart out and touch her lips — slightly tender, swollen, still carrying his taste.
No, it was not a dream. When she was younger, she had dreamt many times of being kissed by the man she would one day love, and in recent days she had dreamt of being kissed by her husband.
But in her dreams, she had never imagined such feelings, such joy, such thrills, such heat.
How could she have dreamt about those things since she had never known they existed?
Could simple kisses mean so much, cause so much feeling?
And was there more? Could there be more?
Now, in the daylight, she was shocked by her audacity, by her wantonness in inviting him into her bed, and she blushed at the memory.
She should be ashamed of her manners — but she was not.
Quite the opposite. She was eager for the evening to come again, so he might visit her once more — and stay longer this time since there would be no more distractions, no more distressing events to disturb them.
He had said their first night together should be perfect.
What could be more perfect than what had already happened?
She stretched languorously in the bed, feeling—
A gentle knock on the door forced her to open her eyes, and she jumped out of bed, pulling on her robe. For a moment, she wondered whether it might be her husband, and her face warmed at the thought that she would see him again so soon. What would he say? What would he do?
But it was her maid who entered, bobbing a quick curtsey and disappearing into the dressing room. She was almost immediately followed by Jane.
“Lizzy dearest, I shall go to visit Mama, Lydia, and Kitty around noon. They wish to purchase a few more items, and I promised to join them. Would you like to come with us? They will return to Longbourn soon.”
“I am afraid I have plans at home. But my husband and I shall visit them in Gracechurch Street before their departure.”
“Lizzy, please tell me, do you really want me to stay longer? Do you not mind? I can see you are upset with Mama.”
“I am upset with Mama, but you are welcome to stay as long as you like. I am always glad of your company.”
“Thank you…Mr Bingley will accompany us too.”
“Will he?” Elizabeth asked coldly.
“Yes. Do you not approve of him, Lizzy?”
“I have no reason to disapprove. He is Mr Darcy’s friend, but I do not know him well enough to judge him fairly.”
“And yet, something displeases you, I can see that.”
“Jane, I am just a little concerned. You and Mr Bingley seem to have become…good friends, and I am wondering whether you know each other well enough for such…progress.”
Jane flushed. “We are good friends, and it is true we have not known each other for a long time. But you married Mr Darcy after an equally short acquaintance, did you not?”
“It is true…” Elizabeth said thoughtfully. “It is just that…a hasty marriage may be regretted if there is not prudence and enough of a foundation for feelings to grow. It would pain me to see you disappointed. I only want you to be happy.”
“Disappointed? Why? Is Mr Bingley’s character wanting? Or is he trifling with me?”
“I cannot be certain of either his intentions or his character. But you must be certain of both before you allow any more progress to be made.”
“Mr Bingley has not spoken clearly about his intentions, but why would he seek my company unless he enjoys it? As for his character, would Mr Darcy call him a friend if he was lacking?” Jane was becoming upset, and Elizabeth embraced her.
“I have no doubts about your character, dearest, and I trust your wisdom. Just be cautious, please. I shall grant you my support, whatever you decide. I just want you to be happy,” Elizabeth repeated.
“I believe he is a good man, Lizzy. He bore Mama’s enquiries with stoic politeness and responded to them all most amiably. Mama even asked him about his income and his connections.”
Elizabeth sighed. “I assumed she would. For that, I truly pity poor Mr Bingley. But your company is worth any discomfort.” Elizabeth smiled at her sister. “Now, please excuse me. I must go and see Georgiana before breakfast. Shall I see you later?”
Jane nodded and left, while Elizabeth remained pensive, reflecting on their discussion.
Jane was right; she had married Mr Darcy on a very short acquaintance, but she had had Mr Gardiner’s endorsement and a solid marriage contract to protect her if the union did take a turn for the worse.
Jane would be lost once she bound her life to Mr Bingley’s.
But she was right — why would he pursue her if he possessed no real affection and admiration?
Could he be infatuated with her and would lose interest once they married, as Mr Darcy suggested?
But why would he expose himself to Mrs Bennet’s offensive interrogation unless he truly felt the reward was worth the endeavour?
Elizabeth walked towards Georgiana’s room, contemplating her husband’s whereabouts. There had been no sounds from his room earlier. Was he in the library? Already attending to business? Had he left the house without informing her?
In front of her new sister’s door, she hesitated just a second before finally knocking and entering, but stopped a moment later. Her husband was sitting on a chair, talking to Georgiana. Seeing her, he immediately hurried to her side.
In the daylight, his handsome face, his hand outstretched towards her, his smile — that revealed his full lips, which she knew so very well — weakened her knees and heated her cheeks. He greeted her, but she was lost for words.
“Good morning. I did not wish to interrupt you. I only wished to see how you are, Georgiana.”
“I am very well. Please come and sit with us. You did not interrupt anything. Fitzwilliam was just telling me about George’s personal effects, which now belong to me, as his widow. We must retrieve them as soon as possible, before Mrs Younge finds a way to profit from them.”
“Oh.” Elizabeth sighed, glancing from one Darcy to another. “That Mrs Younge should be thrown in prison so she cannot profit from anything.”
“Throwing her in prison would require a public acknowledgement of what happened,” Georgiana whispered.
“I was foolish enough to trust her and George, so I deserve to pay the price. I do not wish to expose Fitzwilliam and you to more torment or to public reproof. If we retrieve those things, perhaps it will conclude the affair…”
“We shall find the best way to end this situation, including dealing with Mrs Younge.”
“What will you do?” Elizabeth asked quietly.
“I shall meet with Richard and Mr Gardiner, and together we shall confront Mrs Younge. Mr Ross will also be there, and I hope his presence, and that of his men, will mean we shall not have to apply to the Runners, the constable, or a judge. If we can find a discreet solution, we shall take it, regardless of the cost.”
“Should I not come with you?” Georgiana asked in a low voice.
“No. I shall not expose you to that place and those people. Please stay at home and pray that we shall return with good news.”
“If you think that would be best,” the girl agreed reluctantly.
“I trust you two will comfort each other,” he said, taking Elizabeth’s hand and placing a brief kiss on it. Her face burned as much as the spot on her skin that had been touched by his lips.
“You must not fret about us,” she managed to answer. “We shall eagerly await your return.”
“I shall be home as soon as possible,” he said, his voice suddenly hoarse, his eyes locking with Elizabeth’s. His sister’s presence was forgotten for a brief moment.
“And Miss Bennet? Do you not have plans with her?” he asked.
“No. I told her she may visit her mother and sisters without me today.”
“I see. Very well, ladies, allow me to escort you to breakfast,” he offered, his eyes still fixed upon Elizabeth.
***
As planned, each of them attended to their duties.
Elizabeth did not have time to speak privately with her husband after their chat with Georgiana, as Colonel Fitzwilliam arrived during breakfast, and soon afterwards, they left together.
And perhaps it was for the best; a few more hours apart would help her gather some composure and gain a little more confidence and control for their next private meeting.
Mr Bingley came and collected Jane and the maid Elizabeth had put at her disposal; they departed immediately in his carriage, while Elizabeth remained with Georgiana.
The girl did not seem willing to talk more, but she expressed her desire to play the pianoforte and invited Elizabeth to accompany her.
Elizabeth occupied her time turning the pages, playing a brief duet with her much more proficient sister, listening to the girl’s performance, or trying to read but mostly losing herself in her thoughts and reflections.
Time passed, and her growing anxiety eventually got the better of Elizabeth’s patience.
In the afternoon, the weather became colder and windy; heavy clouds covered the sky, and the daylight looked like it would fade at an early hour.
She hoped for no more surprises and for her husband’s return — she found she missed him exceedingly.