Chapter 1.25 #3
The next instant, she gasped as he violently slammed the door shut from behind her, trapping her between the heavy wood and his body.
With the same violence, he grabbed her arm and turned her towards him, and then his hands fixed her shoulders against the door.
She was staring at him, wondering, waiting, and almost frightened by his fierce moves.
His dark eyes held hers for a few torturous moments before he finally broke the silence.
“Elizabeth…” His voice was low and husky, and every word brought him closer to her, his breath searing her face while his overwhelming presence stole her breath completely. “We are the silliest and most ridiculous fools who ever lived.”
She felt his arms lift and carry her across the room towards the bed.
Her last remnants of rational thought told her to protest and ask him what he intended, but she neither the strength nor the will to stop him, no matter what he might attempt.
She surrendered completely to his will, wanting nothing more than to forget the loneliness and unbearable misery she had experienced only moments before. She wanted him; she needed him.
He practically threw himself on the bed with her in his arms, almost crushing her with his weight. From inches away, his eyes fell into hers again while he shook his head in wonder.
“Elizabeth, what shall I do with you? What shall I do with myself when I am near you? I lose my self-control. I want to devour you before my love for you devours me.”
She did not answer…did not move…did not breathe.
His face leaned closer until his lips brushed hers, and her mouth parted instantly, welcoming him.
The next moment, however, he abruptly and unceremoniously sat up, pulling her with him and withdrawing his arms from around her, his insistent stare fixed on her face. His countenance was calmer.
“Elizabeth, please forgive my wild behaviour! Of course, I shall allow you to leave whenever you want to, but perhaps we should try to clarify this misunderstanding first. We cannot simply hope that tomorrow everything will be fine. And we cannot presume that a kiss will wash away every trace of our quarrel.”
She nodded in silent agreement, trying to recover from the emotional shock she had just experienced.
“There is no need for you to apologise. Neither of us has been without fault. I can see my mistake now. I should have confided my fears to you. It is just that everything happened so quickly. When Lady Matlock spoke about Lady Hothfield, I instantly remembered everything I had been told about her. But my mind was clouded, and I could not think rationally. The only thought that persisted in my head was that you… I cannot explain what I felt… I am so sorry that I hurt you.” She bit her lips and closed her eyes tightly to stop another outburst of tears.
He watched her, grieved by her obvious pain but not attempting to comfort her.
“William, please do not believe that I doubted your love or your character. Even if it was true that you and she…” She blushed and swallowed violently to clear her throat.
“Even then, I know I would not have any right to blame you for deceit because you have never told me that you are not…visiting any other lady. And I know it is customary among the gentlemen of the ton to… I know a woman must accept that her betrothed, even her husband, might do that. But I cannot bear it, and I am afraid I never shall. The pain was so great that it broke my heart. I am sorry…” She could not fight the tears anymore, but she felt relieved that at last she had told him what she truly felt.
Now, it was for him to decide. And so he did.
His own heart broke, seeing the pain he had unwittingly caused her.
And, as he surrounded her with his arms and nestled her head against his shoulder, he did not curse Wickham’s malicious manoeuvres as much as he did his own selfish pride and temper that had once more overcome his reason.
It had taken so little for him to become angry when she had suggested an affair between him and another woman instead of thinking how deeply that thought was affecting her.
She had been wrong to suspect him, that was true; but again, he had hurried to censure her when all she needed was the assurance and comfort he could offer so easily.
He took her face in his hands and kissed her eyelids, wiping away her tears with his lips.
“My love, please do not cry. There is no reason for such distress; you must trust me. It is true that I had a close acquaintance with Miss Alton, and I did admire her very much. But she was never my mistress, nor did we ever share that kind of intimacy because I did not want that to happen! As for being involved in a sordid affair with her now—when she is a married woman—I am indeed offended that you could think such a thing.”
“William, I—”
“Please, let me finish. I shall tell you the entire story so you will understand. Or would you rather ask me something in particular?”
“No…I have no particular questions.”
She whispered her words, wishing she had the strength to tell him she needed no further explanation—that she trusted him implicitly. She was ashamed to realise how weak she had been before the green bite of jealousy.
“The story Wickham referred to happened more than four years ago, only a few months after my father passed away. As the estate’s responsibilities were trying—quite overwhelming at the time—I spent most of my time at Pemberley, travelling to town only when absolutely necessary, and even then, only rarely indulging in any kind of social event.
On one of those occasions, my cousin—the colonel’s brother—introduced me to Miss Alton.
To my utter surprise, she expressed her pleasure in ‘finally making the acquaintance of the handsomest young gentleman in London,’ and then proceeded to tell me of the many things she had heard about me.
I must confess I was flattered by her regard at the time, but I did not really give it much consideration.
At the same time, she was the centre of everyone’s attention, and most gentlemen were engaging in constant and expensive efforts to gain her…
favours. As I had not the slightest interest in that kind of competition, I merely exchanged a few pleasantries with her at that party or the next when we met again. ”
“Do you think she was interested in you? I mean…she obviously admired you; she told you as much.”
“I cannot tell whether her interest was real or not. I am more inclined to believe that she was intrigued by my lack of attention towards her. You must understand, Elizabeth, that there are women—and Miss Alton was one of those—who find great pleasure in having men’s admiration and company, just as there are men whose only interest in a woman is the pleasure of an intimate acquaintance. Do you understand my meaning?”
He withdrew from her a little so he could meet her gaze. He saw her blush and nod silently, so he resumed his story.
“Approximately a week later, I joined the Matlock party at the theatre.
As it was the last play Miss Alton was to perform that season, the theatre was crowded, a fact that I found annoying and tiresome.
Though the spectacle was exquisite, I was relieved when it ended.
My relatives departed, but I remained in the box until the last of the audience left, and only then did I retire.
“I asked my carriage to follow me, and I took a stroll to enjoy the pleasure of the night, but it was not meant to be. Behind the theatre, I witnessed a quarrel between a man and a woman whose faces I could not distinguish. I refrained from moving forward, as it was not for me to interfere; however, I changed my mind when the man actually hit the woman and she fell to the ground. I approached them and was surprised to recognise the woman as Miss Alton. I hurried to help her. Meanwhile, her companion disappeared, but not before I recognised him. It was Lord Felton, one of the richest and most active members of London society and an acquaintance of our ‘friend’ Mr Wickham. Miss Alton also recognised me and asked that I take her home as discreetly as possible so nobody would see her in such a state.”
Elizabeth’s eyes opened wide at such a horrible story, and a gasp escaped her lips as he continued.
“We reached her house, and as soon as she was safely inside and making her way upstairs, I made to depart, but she insisted that I should wait for her return. I thought she needed my assistance in something so I remained in the parlour. She returned about an hour later. By then, her face was swollen and darkened from the attack, and she looked pitiful.”
“Dear God, what a horrible man! Did you do something? Was he punished for his cruelty?” He bowed his head, impressed by the compassion she displayed.
“I was not able to do anything. I offered her my assistance, but she insisted that the matter be kept secret as she was to leave England in less than a month. Lord Felton was a married man, and she did not want to leave such a scandal behind her.”
“He was a married man? But then how—”
“That was the question I wanted to ask as well, but I restrained myself. She confessed the whole affair to me, and I understood that she had not been without fault in what had occurred. Lord Felton was one of those men who had tried to gain her favour, and he had given her many expensive presents, which she accepted without officially repelling or encouraging his advances. That evening, he was…claiming his rights…”
Another gasp escaped her, and a disgusted, appalled expression filled her countenance.