Chapter 11 Elizabeth
Elizabeth
Every morning Mr Darcy and Elizabeth met, walked to the top of Oakham Mount, and shared innumerable delicious kisses.
What will it be like, Elizabeth wondered as she readied herself for another early assignation, to wake up next to Mr Darcy, to be able to just barely stretch, perhaps turn over, and kiss him?
She grinned as she imagined that she would not be calling him Mr Darcy, at that point. Would she call him Fitzwilliam? Or William? Maybe Will?
Of course, once they were married, there would be other ways to show their love, in addition to kissing.
She was fairly certain she knew the mechanics of one particular activity—according to her observations of farm animals and that one volume in her father’s library—but she imagined there would be other activities as well.
She was curious, of course, but more important than her curiosity was the fact that she yearned to show Mr Darcy her love in every possible way.
His occasional moans and fleeting pained looks made her think that his needs were even greater than hers.
She did not know if that was because he was a man, and she a woman, or if it was because he was seven years older than her.
As strongly as she desired Mr Darcy, she could not imagine going seven more years before…all the things they were looking forward to when they married.
After packing her basket with dry-cured meat, warm seed cakes, and apricots, Elizabeth reached for her shawl and accidentally knocked Jane’s off its peg.
As she hung up Jane’s shawl and hurried to the meeting place at the bottom of Oakham Mount, Elizabeth thought about her elder sister.
She felt less and less close to Jane. They had experienced many periods of physical distance, of course, starting years ago; but through letters and long face-to-face chats, they used to be able to tell one another anything and everything.
But when she first met Mr Darcy, Elizabeth had begun to keep back some of her feelings—it felt almost as if she was bragging to express how exciting and fulfilling their courtship was.
Even now that Mr Bingley was calling on Jane almost as often as Mr Darcy called on her, that relationship was quite new, and she was positive that the relationships were very different… .
Since her romance involved another person—and a reticent person, at that—Elizabeth felt that she had neither the inclination nor the right, even, to share everything even with a most beloved sister.
And then there was Jane’s attitude. She seemed adamant that women should never allow liberties of any sort, ever, and Jane was disgusted that Elizabeth and Mr Darcy had even spoken about things unmentionable in polite conversation.
All that judgement and aversion ensured that Elizabeth kept almost everything private.
But it also ensured that the emotional closeness Jane and she had always had, even when they were physically far apart, had dramatically lessened.
Elizabeth was even reluctant to ask Jane how she felt about the fact that Mr Bingley had called on many other women who looked a lot like her.
Seeing Mr Darcy’s dimpled smile lifted Elizabeth’s spirits again, and she greeted him fondly. She asked if he had anything to add to the basket. “Not today,” he said. “I am determined to carry my saddlebag this morning.”
She noted that the bag looked quite full, but she did not bother to wonder what was in the bag. Instead, she focused on the delightful way that his right hand covered her hand on his left arm. She smiled up at Mr Darcy and asked how he had slept.
“Not as well as usual, to be honest,” he said. “Bingley’s elder sister is getting married, and in a fortnight she, her new husband, and the younger sister, Miss Caroline, will be arriving at Netherfield.”
“And their plans disrupted your sleep?”
“To be honest, I do not trust Bingley’s sisters, especially Miss Caroline; any time we are in the same household, I take steps to ensure that I am never alone with the woman and to minimise the time Georgiana is with her.
I spent some time the past two days making those arrangements, and I suppose I went to bed with the need to avoid Miss Caroline weighing on my mind.
I tossed and turned until I finally got up and read two letters I plan to deal with today—reports on my estates in Wales and Ireland.
Of course, estate reports tend to be quite dull, and I was finally able to lay down, close my eyes, and—”
“And?”
“Honestly, I dream of you. Every night.”
Elizabeth smiled and said, “I dream of you, too.”
They embraced briefly. Elizabeth turned towards the fallen log they had always used for seating, but Mr Darcy said, “I brought a quilt to sit on.” He removed a smooth-textured sage green quilt from his saddle bag and spread it on the ground, then sat with his legs stretched out before him.
He leant back against the log and asked, “What do you think?”
“Very nice!” Elizabeth sat down as gracefully as she could, but her dress pushed up a bit, and she tried to smooth her skirts to cover her legs adequately.
“Allow me,” Mr Darcy said. He bounded up again, took off his morning coat, and carefully used it as a sort of lap blanket to cover Elizabeth’s legs.
“Will you be cold?” she asked him.
“It is August,” he said. “I believe I will survive.”
They began to bring out their food offerings.
Elizabeth was surprised that Mr Darcy had brought madeira rather than cider, and his eyes lit up when he saw the dried beef she offered.
As they ate, Elizabeth asked about Mr Darcy’s dreams. He blushed quite brightly and shook his head.
“I always remember that you were in the dreams, but they disappear like mist when I try to remember the particulars,” he explained.
“I have had that happen often,” Elizabeth said. She nibbled at a seed cake.
“What do you dream of me?” Mr Darcy asked.
“Sometimes we are walking, often up to Oakham Mount. Sometimes we are dancing together. Once we were in a field of flowers, and I was holding a baby, and you were holding a little girl. It was a wonderful dream!”
He smiled and then reached out to brush her lips with his thumb. “Seeds,” he murmured.
Elizabeth hurried to use a cloth napkin he had brought to wipe her lips. “Thank you,” she said.
Mr Darcy began to clear over the empty bottle, glasses, and napkins, placing them in the basket and saddle bag, and then he rearranged himself so that he was lying down.
“Come here, my love,” he said, gently tugging on her hand.
Elizabeth laid down beside him and realised that kissing while in this position was an entirely different—and equally delightful—pursuit.
Finally, Mr Darcy sighed and sat up. “We had best return to our respective families,” he said. He stood and extended his hand to Elizabeth, and they brushed off and folded the quilt. They walked back to the spot where Gulltoppr waited, nibbling on clover, grasses, and the occasional thistle.
It had been a surprisingly silent walk down the hill.
Elizabeth knew that she was in a daze from the feel of Mr Darcy’s body pressing along her side as they kissed.
She knew how careful he was not to let their passionate interludes go too far, but that day, for the first time, she had felt the pressure from his…
private part. She did not know a polite term for that body part, but she had seen goats and sheep breeding, and she had once seen a stallion mount a mare, so she had a sense of its purpose.
She patted Gulltoppr’s neck and then turned to Mr Darcy.
“Thank you for bringing the quilt. This morning was…quite wonderful.”
“I love you, Elizabeth,” Mr Darcy murmured. “And perhaps I should admit to you that I lied earlier today. I do remember many of my dreams of you, but I will not be describing them to you—not yet, anyway. I am embarrassed to say that they are…highly improper.”
“I did not lie to you, Mr Darcy, because the things I related did happen in some of my dreams. But I should mention that I too have had improper dreams about you.”
They stared into one another’s eyes. Elizabeth felt her body sway towards Mr Darcy’s, as if there were magnets involved, but she straightened and made herself say goodbye and walk back to Longbourn.
“I will see you later today, Elizabeth,” he called when she had reached the turn in the trail that would hide her the next moment. She stopped, looked back at him with a wave and a smile, and then went on.
When the callers from Netherfield arrived at Longbourn early that afternoon, Elizabeth’s mother reminded them that they were to remain for dinner that evening.
Mr Darcy excused himself to spend some time with Elizabeth’s father, and of course Mr Bingley went straight to Jane and began to converse with her, the two of them seeming to be alone while in the midst of many.
Elizabeth asked Georgiana, “I know that you had some unpleasant companions at the school you attended. I remember parts of the book Evelina, in which there were cliques that loved to exclude people, and I wonder if you have read it?”
“I have,” Georgiana said.
“And was your experience somewhat like the events in that novel?”
Georgiana began to tell Elizabeth and Mary all about the hated social interactions at the school she had attended.
Soon Kitty and Lydia joined the group. Elizabeth could see that Georgiana was benefitting from the opportunity to talk her memories over, and she was especially glad to see that Lydia’s tendency to speak up loudly and without much forethought ended up being helpful, in this case.
The youngest Bennet passionately decried the unkind actions and words of the other students, and her honest astonishment about what Georgiana had gone through seemed to be a balm for the reticent girl’s spirit.