Chapter 16
Darcy had never before felt such extreme relief and intense grief at the same time.
To see Elizabeth pale and sorrowful and be unable to help was an unbearable torture; yet, he felt grateful that, at least, she did not seem as harmed as he had feared.
He entered the room and gently settled her on the bed.
Her hands remained entwined around his neck, so he sat beside her, his face close to hers.
His fingers caressed her hair, removing a rebellious lock from her forehead. Tears began to roll over her cheeks.
“Elizabeth, how are you feeling?” His voice was even gentler than his tender touch, yet she could do little but cry.
“I am well…Now that you are here, I am well. I was afraid you would not come…after what happened. I would have understood if you had been upset with me and changed your mind—
“How can you think that? How can you believe anything would change my mind about you? Do you not know how much I love you?”
“I…” She seemed startled at his intensity, and instantly his voice softened; his eyes, moist with emotion, caressed her face with an adoring gaze as he continued.
“Do you not know that nothing could keep me from you? As soon as I received Bingley’s express, I did not spare a moment.” He paused, looking at her with utter sadness. “Yet, I am so very late. Will you ever forgive me for not being here to protect you when you needed me? If I had known—
“Please, do not blame yourself. If there is anyone to blame, it is me.” Her tears continued to fall.
“You? How could you be blamed?”
“Yes, me! I was so careless…I did not pay enough attention to Cassandra’s warning. I never imagined a man could act in such a way; I still cannot believe it.”
Darcy felt lost in his weakness, watching her distress as he struggled to control his anger. He would have done anything to take her pain upon himself, but there was nothing to be done.
“Please do not cry, my love,” he said hesitantly, uncertain how to comfort her. “I am here to take care of you now. Nothing is important except you and your health. Has the doctor visited you?”
Elizabeth fought to stop crying, more affected by his obvious grief than by her own distress. “No…not yet, but I do not need a doctor. I am quite well now that you are here.”
“But…you have been injured,” he whispered averting his eyes from her, unable to control his emotions. “The doctor must see you.”
“Oh, I only hurt my head when I fell, which is why I am feeling a little dizzy, but I will be fine.”
“But…are you in pain?” he continued warily, his voice barely audible, his eyes not meeting hers.
Elizabeth stared at him in confusion for a moment, and then her hands moved to cup his face as she turned his head to look at her.
He must be thinking as she did after the attack—that Markham had compromised her—yet he came back to her and declared his love for her without hesitation.
Her heart melted with joy and gratitude as her fingers tenderly caressed his handsome, weary face.
“My love, I am in no pain. I have been injured in no other way than my head. Cassandra saved me before anything worse occurred.”
Darcy’s expression betrayed all the feelings that wrestled within him, and Elizabeth found the strength to reassure him quietly once more. “I am not injured, and I am in no pain.”
“So you are well?” he inquired further, afraid to trust this new revelation.
“I am well. Nothing happened,” she assured him and then suddenly turned pale as she continued, her voice trembling with distress, barely able to reveal her painful secret.
“No, that is not entirely true. Something did happen. He tried to kiss me, but I fought him…but I think he still kissed my face. And…he touched me…and…I am so sorry, William. I cannot remember clearly, as I fell and knew little afterward. But Cassandra said he had no time to do anything. I…”
“Elizabeth…” Heartbroken by her painful distress, yet enveloped by incredible relief and gratitude, Darcy seemed at a loss for words and unable fully to comprehend the meaning of her revelation.
Could it be true? Could his worst fear be unfounded?
Was it possible she was unharmed? Then why was she still so tormented, so grieved?
Had she been wounded in some other way? She said the bastard had kissed her.
Darcy would not hesitate to kill him for that, but it was little compared to what he had imagined a few minutes earlier.
Still shocked, he struggled to understand and find a way of dissipating her misery but could do nothing except hold her tightly.
They lay on the bed, embracing, Darcy caressing her hair and placing light kisses on the top of her head.
She cuddled to his chest for a few moments, and then she moved slightly and lifted her face to him in a shy attempt to meet his lips.
Instead of the expected sensation of his mouth on hers, he only smiled tenderly, moving a lock of hair from her forehead and pressing his lips upon it.
Elizabeth felt a sudden chill and remained still in his arms, not daring to attempt any further intimacy.
“I understand you,” she whispered after a few moments.
Darcy withdrew a few inches and stared at her in misapprehension. “Understand me?”
“I can understand why you do not wish to kiss me…after that man…”
He looked at her—eyes wide open. Elizabeth shivered; he seemed upset. How could he not be? No honourable gentleman would accept his betrothed’s being touched by another man.
“Elizabeth, what on earth are you talking about?” He cupped her face forcing her to look at him. “Oh, my dear, despite everything that occurred this evening, you truly make me laugh.” Indeed, he did laugh, and tears rolled down her cheeks as she did not comprehend his sudden amusement.
He smiled while gently kissing her tears away. “My dearest, I want nothing but to kiss you; have no doubt about that. Nothing will ever diminish my desire…except perhaps the thought that your father is downstairs and could intrude on us at any time.”
She burst out in nervous peals of laughter, and he continued to kiss her cheeks as he spoke. “I have spent too much time fighting to regain your father’s good opinion to risk being shot by him; however, let us hope he will not make an appearance for a few more minutes.”
She laughed again, and her lips brushed against his face in countless, small kisses. “I thought you would be upset. I was so upset, so angry with myself for allowing that…I have always imagined you would be the only man to touch me, kiss me…”
“And so it is, my love; so it will be! What happened this evening was nothing but an unfortunate accident you will soon forget. These are the kisses…and these are the touches you will remember…” Leaning her against the pillow, Darcy covered her face with soft kisses, his lips travelling along her jaw and then down to her throat, followed by his gentle fingers that brushed lightly against her skin as though trying to wipe away her painful memories.
Darcy broke the embrace gently; his hands were still caressing her hair. Their faces almost touching, he smiled with a last short kiss on her chin.
“Elizabeth, this will not do. You must rest, and I must go.”
“No, indeed…I do not need rest. I do not want you to leave.”
“As much as I would like to stay with you, my love, that cannot happen, not with your father in the house. And I am so dirty from the road and likely smell horrible.”
“You smell beautiful,” she replied, and they laughed, staring at each other adoringly. The torment and pain seemed to dissipate, and there was nothing in the room but them and their bond of love.
Though Darcy had insisted he should leave, he remained with Elizabeth, holding her in his arms and caressing her hair.
Finally, closely cuddled against his chest, with her hands around his waist and his fingers caressing her hair, Elizabeth fell asleep.
From time to time, his heart heavy with worry, he heard her sighing in her dreams; he placed a soft kiss on her cheek, and he heard her whispering, “You do smell beautiful.” He laughed softly, wondering how it was possible to love her as much as he did.
Suddenly a cold sense of panic—the panic of losing her or seeing her hurt in any way—overwhelmed him.
His worry for her safety had vanished, indeed, and he felt fortunate and grateful that Elizabeth was unharmed.
But now his rage took control, and he could barely restrain himself at the thought of Markham.
While Elizabeth was sleeping in his arms, Darcy’s distress grew again as he was still unable to understand how everything occurred.
What was Markham doing there, and how did he come to attempt to force himself upon Elizabeth?
Thank God she is well and healthy, was his primary thought. However, aloud, without considering his words, he whispered coldly, “I shall kill Markham!”
∞∞∞
“Mr Bennet, I have to say I am shocked to see that you allowed Darcy to leave with your daughter in such a disgraceful manner,” the earl said with no little disdain.
“I am afraid I do not understand your meaning, sir,” said Mr Bennet, his voice suddenly regaining his usual sharp irony. “Are you, by any chance, teaching me about proper behaviour, Lord Markham?”
“I surely am,” the earl stated.
“Well, you are truly diverting; I wonder if all earls are as amusing as you are,” Mr Bennet replied.
“How dare you, sir?” the earl burst out in anger. “I have not been so offended in my entire life!”