Chapter 10
Ten
The next morning, Darcy hoped that Elizabeth would take a walk among the bright blooms in the garden just outside the green drawing room—and he was delighted when his lingering watch was rewarded.
Ever an accomplished walker, Elizabeth did not seem to be attempting anything like “lingering”—she quickly strode away from the house, on a gravel path, and Darcy had to hurry to be by her side.
“Oh! Good morning!” she said, surprised and obviously pleased to see him.
“Good morning to you, as well.” Darcy smiled and said, “I was dearly hoping you would take a walk.”
“Alone at last, sir?”
“Something like that.” He chuckled, but he also felt his cheeks heat up. He wished he was not so often blushing in Elizabeth’s presence—but as he watched, her cheeks, too, got rosier, and he realised that the pleasure of watching her blush was worth his own embarrassment.
They walked swiftly until they reached a forested hill; their breathing rate increased because they refused to slacken their speed as the path became steeper.
Finally cresting the hill and gaining a wonderful view between the frame of two massive oak trees, Darcy turned to Elizabeth and gently gathered her into an embrace.
She responded immediately, pulling him even closer by the lapels of his coat, and he took her response as permission to kiss her.
He always thought that confident, impudent, active Elizabeth Bennet would be passionate, and her response to his first kiss—on her mouth, that is—was confirmation of that assumption.
She put her hands into his hair and held him close, her lips firmed as his did, moved when his moved, even opened when his opened.
When he finally broke the kiss, they were both panting.
For a fraction of a second, he wondered who she had been kissing. How did she know so much about the activity?
Impatient with himself, Darcy brushed the thought aside as unworthy.
They had had that embarrassing talk, days and days ago, about the disparity of attitudes about experience in intimate activities, and he would not further the unfairness of society by admitting to being upset about her past experience—not when she had been so generous about his own!
It was almost comical when Elizabeth’s words indicated that her thoughts had run parallel to his own.
“Sir, that was…amazing, really. I have read about kisses in a few novels, but I had no idea…. Honestly, it feels as if you are a magical being to elicit such strong feelings in me. But I have to admit that I am really jealous of those courtesans who taught you such magic.”
“I have never kissed any woman—on the mouth, that is—before this,” Darcy protested. “All I know of the topic is from reading, as well.”
“Oh, my!” Elizabeth said. “You are…that capable…without teaching or even practice?”
“You were equally proficient,” he said.
“I just followed your lead. I probably have not been reading the right books—I had no idea—but this just tells me, again and again, that we are an excellent match.”
Darcy stroked her back and said, “I have always had a good imagination. And you are obviously a quick learner.”
“And very much in love.”
“Not as much as I am in love with you.”
“So competitive….” Elizabeth laughed.
Several minutes passed in silence, Darcy enjoying the feel of Elizabeth in his arms so well that he wished never to interrupt with practicalities.
But finally he broached the subject he wished to discuss.
“Dearest Elizabeth, I wanted to ask you about your wishes. I assume that Georgiana and I may accompany your family party to Longbourn, tomorrow or whenever you plan to leave, and there I may ask your father’s permission and blessing?
And I was wondering where and when you wish to wed. ”
Elizabeth said, “I do not care where, and as soon as possible.” Then she blushed again. “I embarrass myself with my enthusiasm, but it is what I wish.”
“You are yet twenty, are you not?” he asked. “I have never learnt your birthday.”
“I reach my majority on the tenth of August.”
“But your father will not stand in our way?”
“I am certain he will be delighted to give me away to anyone, let alone a consequential gentleman such as yourself.”
“I have always supposed you were his favourite. ‘Give me away to anyone’ seems to indicate otherwise.”
Elizabeth laughed. “You have seen, all those months ago, how very odd my family is, in part because of the five-daughters-no-sons situation, with the entail. I do very much assume that my father would like to see all of us settled since he did not do much to ensure our futures.”
The last half sentence, Elizabeth had lost her smile, and he heard a trace of bitterness. He kissed her forehead and said, “I have resources enough I will be able to help any sister who is not settled when that unhappy day comes….”
He felt awkward and wished he had not alluded to the much-feared time when Mr Bennet would die, but his Elizabeth smoothed his brow with one hand, cupped his cheek with another, and said softly, “You are generous beyond measure.” He smiled, thinking how her generous nature regularly helped him with his sometimes-tangled tongue.
“I presume you wish to have your father walk you down the aisle?”
“It does not feel imperative to me, but I would like it.”
“And so I assume it follows that we should marry at the church in Meryton.”
“Again, not necessary to my happiness, but it would make it easier to obtain my father’s participation.”
“You are the most easy-going bride-to-be in the history of the world,” Darcy said.
“I have heard Georgiana say something about girls dreaming of their wedding day….” A bitter laugh burst from him as he considered that years-old memory in light of Georgiana’s almost elopement.
But he said, “Forgive me. I had not before thought of that memory in connexion with—”
“I understand, dearest.” Elizabeth gave him a brief, soft kiss and resumed their conversation: “I have not dreamed of my wedding day, but I have dreamed of marrying someone whom I could respect and love. I was not at all certain I could manage to do so, but it was the marriage, not the wedding, on which I pinned my hopes.”
“I do so love you,” Darcy said. “I always know, with certainty, that I love you at the maximum level; nobody could ever love someone more. And then you say one more thing or do one more thing, and you manage to ratchet the level up even higher. There is always a new maximum, and my love for you is always at that highest level, but now I wonder if there is no end in sight of how much one can love.”
“I love the idea of endless, boundless love.”
“Let us return to the house and ask your uncle and aunt about these matters.” Elizabeth agreed, and they walked back down the hill and to the house even more quickly than their ascent.
Georgiana and Darcy both had tasks to attend to and orders to give in preparation for a long visit to Hertfordshire.
Of course, Darcy wrote to Bingley again—he had not heard from him after his last letter, in which he admitted his mistake about Miss Jane Bennet’s feelings—and this letter asked his friend if he was in London or Hertfordshire, and indicated that he and Georgiana would love to stay at Netherfield Park if possible.
He made another careful copy of the note and had each copy sent express: one to the Hursts’ London home and the other to Netherfield Park.
Considering the fact that his friend might be furious at him, given the lack of response to his earlier letter, Darcy also sent an express to the one inn in Meryton, securing several rooms for his party for two nights.
He knew that he might need to look for another property to let if Netherfield was not an option.
Darcy then dove into his correspondence and, after that, several meetings.
He was extremely pleased with James, who had already made a galley proof of the first issue of what he had decided to call The Peak Report.
Darcy reminded James that the newspaper was not Darcy’s, not Pemberley’s; it was to be totally independent, and Darcy had received word of two more investors aside from himself.
“More investors will follow; however, I chose you to be editor because I know your integrity. You will not twist facts and slant articles in favour of the investors.”
James was intensely pleased with the trust and responsibility shown to him, and he promised to get on with the newspaper without further check-ins with Darcy.
The next meeting was with Morris. That meeting was interrupted by Connors, who as usual knocked but did not, as always, wait for permission to enter.
His breathless entry and gasping, “Sir!” brought both Darcy and Morris to their feet.
Darcy was already moving out of the room when Connors managed to say, “The duke—the sundial section of the American garden—”
Darcy ran; he heard Morris give Connors two orders and then followed.
When Darcy entered the garden, he saw Gardiner running towards Elizabeth, Mrs Gardiner hurrying to her, as well, and nearly reaching her—and the duke grasping both of Elizabeth’s arms. He looked as if he were going to forcibly kiss her, but then as everyone rushed to save Elizabeth, she moved to save herself, lunging towards the duke and then dropping down to the ground vigorously.
Somehow that broke his grasp, and she scooted back away from him.
Mrs Gardiner reached out and helped Elizabeth scramble up, and they both retreated further back several steps.
The duke looked as haughty as ever, as if his own behaviour had been courteous and Elizabeth’s questionable. “My word, Miss Bennet, what are you about?”
Gardiner reached Elizabeth shortly thereafter, and Darcy arrived only a moment after him. She was replying to the duke even as both of the men bristled over his rude tone and—worse, but expected—lack of apology. She murmured, “Excuse me, Your Grace. I just felt a bit faint.”