Chapter Thirty-Two #2
Elizabeth wandered the grove for nearly an hour, and not without some little pleasure in the peaceful splendor of her surroundings. The gentle breeze was warm and fragrant with the full bloom of late summer; the birds were chirping, and the grove felt utterly alive all around her.
Such environs often brought her a sense of peace, but this morning her feelings were far more exhilarated.
She knew she had been too bold with Mr. Darcy; by telling him where she meant to walk alone, she had all but invited him to an assignation.
It was forward and unladylike – the Mr. Darcy she had first met would certainly think so, but the man who consumed her thoughts at present had grown just as bold.
A breathy laugh escaped her lips as she thought of the way she had discomposed him in the library.
It was brazen of her to appear in such a state of undress, to even bask in the way he had looked at her and the effect she had on him; worse yet, she would have allowed him to do more than look at her.
The depth of feelings he had aroused in her had turned her wanton, but she could not be ashamed of herself when she was convinced that he felt the same as she did.
She lost herself in the pleasant recollection of their time together over the last several weeks.
She could not pinpoint when she had lost her heart to him – certainly not until long after he had first kissed her – she was already too far gone at present to care that anyone might see how completely she had fallen for Mr. Darcy.
Above all, she wanted him to be aware of it, for he had become such an open book to her that she had no doubt at all of his regard for her.
After quite some time had passed, Elizabeth found herself at the same little dock by the lake where she had spoken with Mr. Darcy before.
She began to lament that he must have been detained, perhaps in preparation for the arrival of his relations, but her thoughts were still all for him.
She kicked off her boots and removed her stockings to dip her feet in the water, better to savor the recollection of having done so on another occasion, with him at her side.
And then she removed her spencer to feel the warm sun on her arms and chest. Her bonnet came off next, and then her hairpins, and for a while she sat back on the dock, propped up on her elbows, her legs dangling in the cool water.
Her mind still wandered unmoored through the weeks of happy memories she had made in Highbury – all the moments she had teased Mr. Darcy into laughter and mischief, all the fleeting touches and glances they had exchanged of late, the little signals he had sent her that if only they had been alone together, he might have taken her in his arms again – and the subtle ways she had endeavored to convert that she should happily permit it this time.
Ere long she was far too warm, and not only from the sunshine.
Well, if she was not to meet with Mr. Darcy, she ought to cool down before returning to Milton Hall – she swiftly convinced herself that a little dip in the lake was in order, and divested herself of her light muslin day dress.
She bundled it next to her boots and bonnet to retrieve later and, left only in her chemise, she slipped off the edge of the dock, splashing into the water.
She had developed a taste for swimming in Weymouth, and found it even more pleasant when she was not tossed about by waves, but free to kick her legs in the tranquil, shallow water. Jane had been more experienced in such immersion, to a rather acrobatic degree.
Elizabeth attempted something she had seen Jane do when they bathed together in the sea.
She dove forward, rolling her body beneath the surface until her legs arced over her head, and then rolled again, breaking the surface of the water with a laugh of dizzy glee.
Delighting at the sensation, she attempted it again, somersaulting along the surface of the lake.
This time, when she broke the surface of the lake and blinked the water from her eyes, she beheld Mr. Darcy standing on the dock beside her heap of discarded garments, staring at her with a look of astonishment.
Elizabeth was not completely wanton; sensible of her state of undress, she brought one arm about herself to cover her chest, but still she frolicked in the water.
And as she held his gaze, her inhibition began to ebb away.
“The water is delightful, sir, should you wish to enter the lake more voluntarily than last time.”
He did not look away from her as he removed his coat, his cravat and waistcoat, and then his boots. Elizabeth swam a little closer, beckoning to him. She ran one hand along the surface, splashing water up at him.
“Wicked nymph,” he cried.
Elizabeth kicked her legs in the water, giving him enough room to jump into the water, and he dove in a graceful arc, disappearing for a moment before surfacing beside her with a bright smile.
His legs kicked against hers and he splashed her back, laughing gaily.
“How have you tempted me to such madness?”
“Very easily, apparently,” she laughed.
Suddenly flustered by his proximity, and the way his loose shirt clung to him, Elizabeth dove beneath the surface and swam away from him; Mr. Darcy gave chase, and for several minutes they played like children together, splashing and laughing, thinking nothing of the noise they made.
When she finally felt a strain in her muscles from so much swimming, she allowed Mr. Darcy to catch her.
She gave him one final, playful dunk, and he reciprocated merrily.
Elizabeth felt she could get lost in the sound of his laughter, swept up in the easiness of his cheerful company, as if the world beyond this lake did not exist. It was only them, when she broke the surface of the water, sputtering with laughter, and her eyes locked on his.
Something instantly ignited within her, which she did not entirely understand, an aching tension that was painful and blissful all at once as Mr. Darcy stared at her.
He caught her hand and pulled her closer until their legs entwined as they paddled to keep afloat.
One of his arms went around her waist, and with his free hand he began to brush away the wet tendrils of hair that clung to her face.
He stroked her cheek for a moment, and she freely allowed his touch, yearning for what she knew must follow.
His lips brushed hers softly, and his forehead leaned against hers as he drew her closer.
Elizabeth forgot to kick, but he held her tighter as he kept them both afloat, and all the while his kiss slowly deepened until his tongue began to move against her own, and their bodies pressed against one another in a delightful tangle.
Elizabeth was utterly lost to the ecstasy of the moment. She wrapped her arms around Mr. Darcy’s neck and let her fingers roam through his thick, tangled hair, and Mr. Darcy let out a low moan before finally pulling away. “Elizabeth,” he gasped.
She smiled dreamily at him, not wanting her bliss to end just yet. “I shall hardly rebuke you as I did the first time,” she teased him.
He groaned and kissed her again, but again seemed to struggle with himself. “I have run mad; I am so in love with you.”
A giggle of delight bubbled in her throat. “Me too,” she whispered. His eyes went wide, and she knew he wanted her to say the words. “I love you, most ardently.”
“I will speak to your father,” he said. He might have said more, but the sound of a distant cry rang out in the air, and they both nearly toppled under the water as they turned about in unison.
Elizabeth squinted into the sunlight and could just make out the silhouette on the muddy bank beside the lake.
“It is only Bingley,” Mr. Darcy whispered, his voice husky with laughter.
Elizabeth suddenly felt exceedingly self-conscious, even if Mr. Bingley would likely think it a lark to have discovered them thus. “Can you get rid of him?”
“Likely not without being obliged to part with you myself – but perhaps it is for the best,” Mr. Darcy said with a longing sigh. “I am on the verge of taking leave of my senses entirely, and forgetting that I am a gentleman.”
Even with Mr. Bingley laughing at them from a dozen yards away, Elizabeth still felt a thrill at how she had flustered Mr. Darcy. “Take him away, please – I require some privacy.” She glanced toward her heap of outerwear on the dock, and then gave him an innocent smile, relishing his discomposure.
She kicked her legs beneath the water, remaining afloat where she was as he swam back toward the dock and then pulled himself up out of the water, his muscles flexing beneath his wet clothing.
He collected his boots and other discarded garments and then stalked off toward Mr. Bingley, who mercifully pretended he did not see Elizabeth.
She watched him walk off with his friend, and Elizabeth let out a breathy laugh, surprised at her own boldness and relieved at how he had responded. She splashed about in the water, overcome by sheer joy, and murmured to herself, “I am going to marry that wonderful man.”