Chapter 26 Kisses
KISSES
The kiss changed everything.
Well, perhaps not merely the kiss. Elizabeth’s feelings towards Mr Darcy had begun to change so gradually that she hardly knew what she was about half the time.
She woke in the morning thinking of him, and she fell asleep at night doing the same.
She wanted to be with him always and was impatient with anything else that took her attention away from being with him or even merely thinking about him.
His excellent qualities seemed to reveal themselves daily.
His cleverness and intelligence, she had always acknowledged, but now she saw his kindness as well.
Had he not told her own mother just that day that her table was second to none in both Hertfordshire and London?
Mrs Bennet would be repeating that compliment for years, Elizabeth was certain of it.
She loved talking to him and loved that they could laugh together.
She suspected Mr Darcy allowed himself laughter and levity with very few people, and it felt intimate to be one with whom he shared his broad smiles and hearty chuckles.
She also loved that they could speak seriously with just as much ease as they laughed.
Indeed, for a man she had once claimed to despise so heartily, she now could not think of one bad quality in him. He certainly had no improper pride, and what she had perceived once to be arrogance was merely reserve.
How had she not noticed before that he was the very one in temperament and wit who most exactly suited her?
How had she not noticed how very handsome he was?
It was his eyes, she decided. They melted her with that deep stare he seemed to give her so often.
She had, in the autumn, believed he looked at her to find fault.
Now she knew he was not finding fault, though in truth she still could not say why exactly it was that he looked at her in that way.
She fully comprehended the effect those stares had on her—they made her weak in the knees, trembly and nervous, but in a good way.
It was with such thoughts that she walked with Lydia and Kitty into Meryton to see their aunt Philips. Lydia and Kitty occasionally abused her for her absent-mindedness, particularly when she nearly tumbled to the ground after not seeing a deep rut in the road, but otherwise it was a pleasant walk.
“Oh, there is Mr Darcy,” Lydia said as they came to the street where their aunt lived.
Elizabeth’s heart stuttered and thudded as she saw him about to mount his horse outside of the Merry Fox.
A smile spread over his face—for her? He stood and awaited them.
Kitty and Lydia, Elizabeth was pleased to note, greeted him very appropriately, if a bit disinterestedly, and then requested Elizabeth’s permission to continue on to their aunt’s home only steps away.
She agreed and they were off, leaving her alone with Mr Darcy.
She watched them go and then turned to look at him, noting the pleased look in his eyes which caused her pulse to flutter. To cover her fluster, she said, “And what brings you to town this fine day, sir?”
“I posted a letter I had written to my sister, in hopes she would receive it a bit more expediently. You are not visiting your aunt this afternoon with your sisters?”
She shrugged one shoulder. “I do not think they will miss me. They will play cards and gossip and forget I was ever with them.”
“Where shall we go, then?”
“Wherever you would like,” she said and then accepted his arm, feeling suddenly bashful.
“I believe I have found an alternative route to Longbourn from Meryton but am uncertain whether it could be considered a shortcut or not. I am relying on your expert opinion on the matter.”
Elizabeth laughed. “I must tell you, sir, being that we are headed in the opposite direction from Longbourn, my first inclination is that it is unlikely.”
“We will not know anything for certain unless we try it.” Mr Darcy gave her a heart-melting smile, and she blushed with the pleasure of it.
They walked in silence for a few moments more until Elizabeth, wishing for some conversation, asked him, “Your sister is well, then? I do hope your urgency in sending her a letter was not due to some adversity on her part.”
“I am writing to her to bid her to come to Netherfield.” He turned towards her. “I hope you will allow me to introduce you to her when she comes. She is eager to make your acquaintance.”
“It would be my pleasure,” Elizabeth replied, feeling her blush grow hotter.
His soft ‘thank you’ did nothing to help her composure.
A host of worries beset her. What if Miss Darcy disliked her?
What if she found the Bennets wholly insupportable?
What if Elizabeth said or did something unforgivable in her presence?
“You have grown very quiet,” he remarked as they turned onto a little lane. In truth it was hardly a lane, more like a path, rutted and rocky and wholly unsuited to anything but the occasional walker. In short, ideal for privacy.
“Forgive me, I am being very dull. What shall we talk about today? Should we talk about books?”
He announced, very primly, “I cannot speak of books when I walk with you. My mind is too full of other things.”
She laughed at his reference to her response to him at the first ball at Netherfield back in November, when he had asked her to speak of books in the ballroom. “Other things, Mr Darcy? Dare I ask what it is that your mind is so filled with?”
“I am not so sure you would really wish to know,” he said with a sidelong look.
“Oh, indeed I do!” she cried out gaily, delighted by their little game.
He looked at her intently then, and something in his expression made her heart beat that much harder and faster, leading her to briefly wonder if young ladies ever suffered heart palpitations from a suitor’s attentions.
“Are you certain?”
In a voice breathy and uncertain, she said, “Yes.”
He stopped walking and turned to face her, leaning over her. He hesitated briefly, then drew her close, one hand touching her waist and sending warmth up the side of her body.
“When I am with you,” he murmured into her ear, “all I can think of is this.”
Unlike the previous time he had kissed her, this time he did not limit himself to the briefest of touches.
He instead took his time, his mouth tasting hers, and when he met no resistance on her part, he deepened the kiss, touching her lips with the tip of his tongue until she opened her mouth.
The sensation was like nothing she could ever have imagined, nothing anyone had ever prepared her to experience.
She could smell the faint scent of his cologne, feel the roughness of his coat beneath her fingertips, share the quickening of his breath.
Stopping him was quite out of the question, not when she so enjoyed the nearness of him, and the taste of him.
She had at first rested her hands against his chest, but as his arms stole round her waist, pulling her more tightly against his body, she slid one hand up to wind into the curls that brushed the back of his neck, while the other went round his back.
His hair was surprisingly soft, she discovered; running her fingers through it while gently caressing the back of his head caused him to make a low sound in his throat, after which he stopped kissing her.
He chose to rest his forehead against hers while he caught his breath.
“Forgive me,” he whispered.
“Pray do not be sorry.”
“I was too…enthusiastic. I would not wish to frighten you.”
“You do not,” she murmured.
They did not immediately move from their embrace. He studied her and she, in reply, traced the contours of his countenance with her gaze. Eventually the moment grew long and he bent, giving her one last kiss on the lips.
“Come,” he said, his voice hoarse. “I think I ought to get you back to Longbourn.”
They walked the mile back to her home very slowly, putting some appropriate distance between them the nearer they came. When they had arrived at the front door, he stopped and looked about, then bent to give her one last kiss, certainly the most chaste kiss of the day, before leaving her.
Mrs Hill came to the front hall to help Elizabeth remove her pelisse and bonnet. As she took her things, she said, “Mr Bennet wishes to see you.”
“Of course.”
Elizabeth, still thinking of Mr Darcy, felt as if she were moving in a pleasant haze. Entering her father’s study, she found him standing by his fireplace. “Ah, Lizzy,” he said. “Pray go to my window and tell me what you see.”
Mystified, Elizabeth did as he asked, looking out on a scene that was nearly as familiar to her as her own countenance. “I see what I always see. The lane coming up to the house, the area by the front door.”
“Oh good. Then there is nothing wrong with my eyesight.”
With a sinking feeling, Elizabeth turned back to her father.
“I thought surely I must be having some difficulty with my vision, for what I saw by that door only minutes ago was not a sight I had ever thought to see.”
She felt herself flush with embarrassment but did her best to maintain her composure. “My opinion of Mr Darcy has changed, obviously.”
Mr Bennet crossed his arms over his chest. “Are you engaged to him?”
“N-no.”
“And yet you stand by the front door allowing all and sundry to witness you behaving so? Need I explain how it might be if Sir William passed by and saw you?” Mr Bennet shook his head and took a seat at his desk. “And do not tell me it was the first time either, for I am not that stupid.”
“Forgive me, I did not mean to…” She did not know what else to say. It had been stupid to stand there allowing Mr Darcy to make love to her where anyone might see. “I did not mean to behave badly.”
“Has Mr Darcy expressed any sort of intentions towards you?”
“In fact, he has…” She paused a moment. Mr Darcy had spoken of love, but there had been no declarations, no promises between them. “I think he will very soon.”
Mr Bennet removed his spectacles and rubbed his hand across his eyes, muttering. It sounded something like ‘silliest girls in England’.
“Papa—”
“Pray do not give me the misery of seeing you lose your dignity,” he warned. “A man like Mr Darcy has no serious intentions towards a country girl with nothing to her name.”
This bit of reality hollowed her out a bit, but she still smiled as she went to him and kissed his head. “You need not worry for me.”