Chapter 7 #4
Despite Elizabeth’s wishes, the evening did come to an end.
Before retiring for the night, Lady Cassandra insisted on checking Georgiana once more; Miss Bingley hurried to do the same, but Darcy politely thanked Miss Bingley for her concern and offered to advise her if any significant event occurred regarding Miss Darcy.
Miss Bingley seemed content with this proof of appreciation; however, before leaving the salon, she asked Elizabeth what room was offered to her.
The explanation that Elizabeth resided in the family wing made Miss Bingley livid with shock and anger.
As they climbed the stairs to the family apartments, Lady Cassandra asked, “Darcy, are you angry with me for my earlier exhibition with Miss Bingley?”
“Yes, I am, but let us not discuss the matter now; we should not expose Miss Bennet to our private quarrels,” he replied, offering Elizabeth his arm.
“Oh come now—do not be so serious.”
“I must be. I would rather see you more preoccupied by my wishes than by your own amusement at Miss Bingley’s expense. Not to mention that Miss Bingley is my guest too, and despite her behaviour, I would not have you answer her in the same manner again. Please indulge me.”
“Very well, then, I shall do as you please,” she answered with mocking obedience. Then, to Elizabeth’s mortification, she added. “As for Miss Bingley and your other guests, you did not seem too preoccupied with any of them in the last couple of hours as far as I noticed.”
Elizabeth was certain her face was burning.
How could Lady Cassandra say such things with no restraint?
To her even greater shock, Mr Darcy laughed while answering.
“Yes, I cannot deny that. I have to confess I had the most wonderful conversation with Miss Bennet tonight; I only hope I did not bore her completely. My conversational skills are not what they should be.” Elizabeth sensed him smiling, and she finally lifted her eyes; he was indeed smiling, an intimate, meaningful, even daring smile.
“Well, though I am by no means as perceptive as Miss Bingley, I wager that Miss Bennet has no complaints about your conversational skills. Am I correct, Miss Bennet?”
It was Elizabeth’s turn to laugh, sighing deeply; there was nothing to do with Lady Cassandra except take her as she was. “You are absolutely correct, your ladyship. Mr Darcy’s abilities at making pleasant conversation continue to improve.”
“It must be the result of following Lady Catherine’s advice; one can become truly proficient only by practicing constantly,” said Lady Cassandra.
Elizabeth felt relieved when they all reached Miss Darcy’s room as she was afraid of where their conversation might have tended. A servant was watching Miss Darcy; she informed them that the young lady had been a little feverish, but she was well and slept restfully for the last couple of hours.
They walked on until they reached Elizabeth’s door; there, Mr Darcy took her hand once more and lifted it to his lips while bowing to her.
“Thank you, Miss Bennet,” he whispered, and she felt her knees unable to support her. She hoped she answered a “good night” both to him and Lady Cassandra; then dashing from her closed door, she only stopped when she reached the bed and threw herself onto the soft, silky sheets.
∞∞∞
It was well past midnight when Elizabeth was startled in her sleep by a deafening thunderclap and the sound of rain pelting the window.
She looked around, disconcerted for a moment, until she remembered where she was.
She felt cold and covered herself in the bed sheets.
Looking at the fireplace, she saw the flames were strong, yet she could not feel their warmth.
She was shivering badly, and her own arms wrapped around herself did not help.
She needed his arms. She needed and wished for him—his closeness, his warmth, his comforting embrace, his tender, caring voice, his arms crushing her against his chest—and then she would not be cold any longer.
She closed her eyes, ashamed of her desires but not wanting to abandon them.
She knew how improper her thoughts were, but if she could not truly have him close to her, at least she could keep him near in her mind.
She remembered his voice whispering in her ear, and the trace of his kiss on the back of her hand was still alive on her skin.
Her lips become dry, so dry that she could not move them.
She was thirsty; she had been thirsty the entire night.
She rose from the bed, still shivering, and went to pour herself another cup of water, but there was none left.
She pulled the robe around herself and left the room; she needed to find some water or at least a servant to ask for assistance.
She walked as silently as she could along the long hall without noticing the shadow in front of her; a short scream escaped her parched lips when she bumped into a tall, dark form.
“Miss Bennet, what is the matter?”
Darcy’s voice startled her but equally comforted her; yet, only a moment later, her embarrassment prevented her speaking. He was clearly dressed for bed, wearing a robe over his nightclothes, and her eyes moved from his face to his uncovered neck and then lowered to the ground.
“I…I was trying to find some water; I finished what was in the pitcher and felt really thirsty. I am sorry to have disturbed you.”
“No, no, you did not disturb me. I went to ask about Georgiana once more before going to sleep. You should not have left the room but rung for a servant. You seem very cold.”
He was right; she was shivering and had hoped he would not notice. Yet he did, and he encircled her shoulders with his right arm as he took both of her hands in his left. She shivered even more at the feeling of his fingers caressing hers in an attempt to warm them.
“Miss Bennet, you must return to bed this instant. I will send you a servant immediately. Your hands are frozen.” She did not answer, allowing him to support her. She felt quite tired—hardly able to walk.
He opened the door to her bedchamber and walked inside, his arms protectively around her. Elizabeth knew she should not allow him inside; there was nothing more improper. But how could she refuse what she had wished for earlier—the warmth of his closeness?
She felt herself gently deposited on the bed; he was frowning, and she wondered why he was displeased.
Maybe she had disturbed him after all. He arranged her pillow and then wrapped her in the covers.
She blushed, averting her eyes from him; she had never imagined how it would be for a man to perform such gestures for her.
Every move drew him closer to her until she could feel his breath against her skin.
“Miss Bennet, you have a fever; that is obvious. How on earth did I not notice it earlier?” His distress was clear, and she tried to answer that she was well, but he would not hear of it.
“I will send for a servant this instant. In the meantime, I will bring you some water.” He left and returned quickly with a glass full of water.
He handed the glass to her; her fingers were trembling, and he covered them with his as she drank.
Afterwards, he leaned her against the pillows once more, and in a moment, he was gone.
She did not have time to thank him nor did she notice how much time passed before a maid entered her room with tea, fresh water and medicines. Just before sleep took her, she asked the servant about the time: it was past midnight.
Elizabeth woke some time later, feeling much better. She pleaded with the girl to go to sleep herself, but the maid refused. After much negotiation, the girl agreed to retire after she was certain everything was fine with Miss Bennet and her fever was gone for good.
∞∞∞
It was dawn, and the rain had stopped when a slight movement in the room awakened her.
She did not open her eyes, but she wondered why the maid had not retired as she promised.
Freezing, she felt somebody sitting next to her on the bed, taking her hand gently then placing a soft, light kiss on her forehead.
She did not move nor even breathe; she knew it was him, and she did not dare guess why he was in her room again and what he would do next.
For an instant, the realisation of what would happen if somebody found him there struck her, but she put the thought aside as quickly as it arose.
His fingers were still holding her hand, and all her blood seemed to race to that precise point on her skin.
She felt his gaze travelling over her face, and then she felt him lowering over her again, his fingers tenderly playing with a lock of her hair.
She could not pretend she was asleep any longer; she wanted to see him.
She opened her eyes, and before he had time to recover from the shock of being discovered, she smiled at him, their fingers still tightly together.
“Mr Darcy, why are you not sleeping, sir? It is almost morning.”
In the light of the fire, she saw him frown, his face turning pale; he looked mortified, and it was a moment before he could speak, desperately attempting to remove his hand from hers and rise from the bed.
“Miss Bennet, please forgive me. I should not be here…It is only that…I checked on Georgiana, and I could not rest until I was certain that you were well, too. I thought the maid was still here, and I wanted to ask her…and when nobody answered my knock, I could not restrain myself from entering. Please forgive me…I have no excuse for my scandalous behaviour.”
Her heart melted, and she wished for nothing more than to caress his handsome face and tell him how happy she felt that he—the most proper of men—had broken the rules of strict propriety because of her and could not sleep until he was certain she was well.
She did not dare do so but she did dare something else: to choose honesty instead of the demands of decorum.
She was not offended by his care; she was grateful to have him there, and she intended to show him that.
She also wanted him to stay a moment longer.
The harm had been done anyway. What would another moment cost?
“I asked the maid to retire earlier. She had been most dutiful, and I was feeling very well indeed, so there was no need to keep her awake.” She struggled to explain as she gathered all her courage to continue.
“Sir, there is nothing to forgive; I know there is no excuse for your being in my room at this hour, as I have no excuse for allowing you to stay. However, I want to thank you for your care and concern. I am feeling very well indeed,” she repeated, then added teasingly, “And I certainly hope you will finally get some rest, too. It would not do to for you to become ill from lack of sleep.”
An expression of heartfelt delight lit his face and softened it; Elizabeth was certain he was more handsome than ever. She was no longer cold, yet she quivered when she felt his fingers returning to caress hers.
“Thank you, Miss Bennet,” he whispered. “As for my becoming ill, there is no need to worry; I am better than I have been in the last many years.”
“As am I,” she whispered, her eyes gazing steadfastly into his.
“I shall leave you now,” he said after a long moment. “However, Miss Bennet, I hope tomorrow we will have the opportunity to talk again…and if the weather will allow us, there are some places I would like to show you—together with Georgiana, of course.”
She dared to presume she knew what he wanted to tell her and did not have the confidence to do it.
How could she make him understand he had nothing to fear?
Was she not eloquent enough in showing her feelings?
After all, she had admitted him to her room in the middle of the night with not a single word of censure. Was that not proof enough?
“Mr Darcy, I will look forward to anything you would like to show me…or tell me.” She blushed, mortified by her desperate audacity in encouraging him. Her reward was immediate as the light smile on his lips told her he understood her meaning.
“Thank you, Miss Bennet. I also look forward to tomorrow.” He lifted her fingers to his lips and touched them briefly, while his eyes caressed her with breathtaking tenderness. He rose from her side, and with a slow pace and a last look, he finally left.
She sighed, and then she placed her lips on her own fingers, on the same spot that had touched his lips. The gesture made her want more, and until she fell asleep again, she wondered about the feeling of his lips upon hers.
∞∞∞
Darcy closed the door to Elizabeth’s room with great care, peering down the hallway to see whether anyone was around. It was empty and silent as was the entire house.
However, in a dark corner of the hall, hidden from Darcy’s vigilance, a pair of inquiring eyes watched in shock as Mr Darcy exited the room that was occupied by Miss Elizabeth Bennet.