Chapter 9
Elizabeth’s distress had increased by the next morning, but in a delightful way. It was still dark when she woke, and the weather remained ill, but her spirit was light and her heart warm.
Sleep had taken her into dreams so vivid that memories of them made her blush. Imagination stirred her senses and took her beyond what she experienced when she was in his company.
She had only to close her eyes to hear his whispers, feel his hands spoiling her with caresses she never dared imagine, taste his lips tantalising hers, and become intoxicated by his scent of power and gentleness.
She knew there was more—much more—to learn, to discover, and to feel with no one but him.
Once she admitted she had never been indifferent to Darcy, she struggled to recollect the precise moment that she had surrendered to him.
What was the specific moment, gesture, or word that aroused her admiration and affection?
She knew it must have been at Pemberley; until then, she only had time to accept her error in judging him and recognise his worthiness.
It was his willingness to take her reproaches to heart and change for her—his gentleness, friendliness, and generosity in not feeling resentment.
His smiles and attentive looks were meant only for her, and it was his hand that helped her into the carriage.
In the end, he was just a man showing his true self to the woman he loved.
Eagerness to see him again made her restless, and for fear she might awaken Jane, she decided to move to the library and find a book to employ her time.
While she walked down the stairs, new memories intruded from the previous year: about her preferring reading to cards, his statement regarding accomplished women who improve their minds through extensive reading, happening upon him in the billiard room…
She pushed the heavy door and stepped in. The fire had been made, and it was pleasant enough. Several candles burned steadily, just enough to notice—almost immediately after she sensed it—that she was not alone.
“Miss Bennet…good morning…”
“Good morning, Mr Darcy. I just came to search for a book…to read. I woke up, and I did not want to disturb Jane…”
“Please, sit down. Yes, I could not sleep either. May I offer you a cup of tea? Or coffee? I have been here for about an hour…reading letters from my steward and solicitor.”
“I hope I am not disturbing you. A cup of tea would be fine,” she answered, as uneasy as he was.
“No—not at all…quite the contrary.”
She intended to pour the tea for herself, but he was faster, inviting her to sit one more time and handing her the warm cup.
He appeared undecided about where to sit—whether too close or too far away. Finally, he brought a chair to the sofa and placed it so they could face each other.
“Is everything all right, I hope? With your letters?” she spoke, troubled by their privacy and closeness.
“Yes…only normal correspondence…” He paused and looked at her with a mischievous smile. “I also received a long letter—based on its thickness—from Lady Catherine. But I shall read it after the ball.”
“Oh…I imagine Mr Collins informed her ladyship of your whereabouts.”
“Perhaps. I should be angry with Mr Collins for his ridiculous interference. But I confess I cannot since we two have something in common,” he continued with a mocking voice that she did not recognise. He was still smiling, and dimples appeared.
She felt nervous as she understood his meaning and wondered how to reply. But even more distressing was the sudden change in his behaviour, a teasing and flirtatious approach.
“What could you possibly have in common, sir?”
“Well, it seems we both have been rightly rejected by a worthy woman whose approval we did not deserve.” His tone gained a trace of gravity, and his amused eyes were slightly shadowed.
She blushed but daringly held his gaze. “There are no two people who could have less in common. From my current perspective, qualities that seemed alike could not have been more different.”
“”You are too generous, Miss Bennet. In both situations, you surely had sufficient reason to laugh at human folly.”
“I deserve no credit, sir. And please believe me: laughter was the last thing on my mind at the time—and for a long while afterwards.”
The light conversation became solemn, and their mutual torment was apparent. For a few moments, they watched each other in silence until she finally responded.
“However, on better analysis, you and Mr Collins do have something in common: Lady Catherine’s protection and interest in your well-being.”
He chuckled. “True. But please believe me that Lady Catherine is not unkind. She simply cannot admit that any of her plans have flaws and cannot imagine that an opinion opposite to hers could ever be true or correct.”
“I noticed that, and anything I did not notice, she informed me herself.”
“I can well imagine. I am very sorry, Miss Bennet. I deeply apologise if my aunt offended you…”
“Do not worry, sir. All is in the past now. I understand that she desires what she thinks is best for you…and for her daughter…”
“As I said, my aunt usually demands what she believes to be best. She is astounded whenever she fails in her endeavour.”
“I am sure she expected more success when she visited me.” Elizabeth tried to sound less distressed than she felt.
“I am delighted that she failed. Her success would have been a painful disappointment for me,” he admitted. “I knew that, if you had something to say against me, you would have shown no restraint.”
“Oh, I am not sure that is a compliment.” She laughed nervously. “Is my impertinence so well known that it has become common knowledge? However, those times when I inconsiderately spoke against you are long gone, sir. You must know that…”
Another long moment of silence and meaningful looks followed. From such an intimate distance, no feelings could remain concealed.
He rubbed his hands together in apparent nervousness then spoke hesitantly.
“Miss Bennet, there is something of great urgency and importance that I must say to you…for me, I mean. Hopefully, tomorrow, if you approve of my calling on you after the ball…”
She almost dropped her cup, so she clenched her fingers more tightly around it. The time had come. She felt it with every fibre of her being. She watched him with her heart melting in tenderness.
Such a powerful man—self-confident, often judgemental and disdainful—was not able to express himself properly; his words were as shy as his gaze, and distress was evident on his face and in every gesture.
What a difference from last April when his plea was more a demand and his professions of love combined with the most severe criticism of her family and situation.
“You must allow me to tell you how ardently I admire and love you,” he had said then, but she could not feel his affection. Now, he did not even need words, and she was all sensation and delightful torment.
“If there is such a great urgency, perhaps it should not wait until tomorrow,” she whispered. He was now leaning towards her and only inches away.
“It must…there is something to be discussed calmly, in peace and solitude...not in haste or worry that someone might happen upon us and interrupt out conversation…”
“You are too cruel, sir.” She smiled with all the warmth she felt in her soul. “You cannot expect me to be at peace until tomorrow…”
“I hope you will. Besides, what I have to say cannot be a surprise to you…”
“And yet, you wish to wait…”
“I do. I already failed once. I must be sure to do everything perfectly now.” He smiled and gently took the cup from her hand, placing it on the table. His fingers brushed along hers and lingered briefly.
“You must not worry, sir. Even if it is not perfect, you cannot possibly doubt your success…”
“I confess I do not—and I hope this time I am not wrong—but still, I want it to be perfect.”
“As you wish, Mr Darcy. I have little choice but to wait. That is a woman’s sad fate,” she joked to dissipate the uneasiness.
He took her hands, carefully looking at her for a sign of opposition, and pressed his lips to the back of each—as brief and gentle as the beat of a heart—then withdrew and rose from the chair.
“As happy as I am at this moment, one of us should leave now. If someone enters, it might be considered a compromising situation for you, Miss Bennet.”
Before her brain had time to think, her lips responded. “And could that bring any harm now, sir?” She blushed with embarrassment and averted her eyes.
He sat again and answered with a low, hoarse voice. “Yes…I cannot allow anything to happen because you were forced into it; I cannot permit any outside influence to stain your decision or burden the future. As I said, it must be perfect.”
She shivered, and chills ran down her spine, but she dared not ask for more tea. She only nodded, rose on unsteady feet, and responded, “I shall return to my chamber now. Jane must be awake.”
“I shall see you later, Miss Bennet,” he answered ceremoniously, bowing to her.
∞∞∞
Elizabeth’s spirit was so high that she wondered how she could bear so much happiness. Though he did not finish his profession, everything that was needed had been said. No more doubts or distress—only joy—and she hoped and prayed for the day to pass as quickly as possible.
She knew her patience would be rewarded, as she would have the chance to dance the first set with him—and perhaps another—carrying a secret unknown to anyone else.
They could even afford to break with propriety a little—only a little—perhaps sitting together during supper.
And speaking privately…people would wonder, suspect, and gossip…
but by the next day, everything would be clear.
She needed to wait only a day and a night—a night of light, music, dance—a night without sleep but not sleepless.
The two of them and their shared feelings, alone in a room full of people.