Chapter 13 #3
They spoke of inconsequential things; music, the weather, an opera Darcy had seen while in town, until they were called in to dinner and the conversation continued and included her father and Jane.
The two men carried on a lively conversation of books, each a little surprised that they had several favorites in common.
Elizabeth watched her betrothed speaking to her father comfortably, a look of ease on both their faces.
Her father’s expression was missing its usual wry humor and she knew he was genuinely enjoying conversing with Darcy and was not silently laughing behind his eyes.
In that moment, she felt a greater hope than she had felt throughout her engagement.
It was not happiness, not exactly, but a feeling that she might be happy in the future, that there was at least a chance it might happen.
She felt lighter than she had in weeks and laughed with her sisters, occasionally chiming in on the men’s conversation. When she made intelligent comments, Darcy would look at her with a certain light in his eyes and smile, and she felt a warmth towards him she had hitherto never felt before.
Soon enough dinner was over and the Bennets left for their card party. Elizabeth led Darcy to the parlor where she sat on a settee near the window. He sat next to her, not too close, and laid his hand beside hers on the seat.
“I enjoyed dinner very much,” he said.
“I am glad. My mother will be pleased. She enjoys hosting.”
“She was a very able hostess and the meal was quite fine, but I enjoyed the company more.”
She smiled warmly at him and he could not resist placing his hand over hers on the cushion.
“Elizabeth, you are lovely,” he said softly, his body turned in her direction.
She blushed and looked down. “You flatter me, Mr. Darcy.”
“I speak the truth. And my name is Fitzwilliam.”
She laughed. “Yes, I’ve noticed you’ve wasted no time at all calling me Elizabeth.”
“What do you mean?”
“Simply that as soon as I accepted your proposal, I was Elizabeth to you. You have not called me Miss Bennet or Miss Elizabeth once. You are very good at the proprieties, Mr. Darcy,” she said teasingly.
“Not all the proprieties, Miss Bennet.” She raised a brow in question and he looked around the empty room, raising his own brow in response.
She flushed again, annoyed at herself for this ridiculous tendency, and answered, “Touché, Fitzwilliam.”
He smiled when she said his name and scooted a little closer, moving their joined hands to his knee. “Propriety has its place, but there are times when it should be set aside.”
“Really? Like when?”
“When a man desperately wishes to kiss his betrothed.”
Her mouth formed a silent ‘O’ and she looked at him wide-eyed, her mouth going just a little dry.
“Elizabeth,” he whispered, leaning closer and closer until looking at him made her eyes cross. She closed her eyes and the next thing she knew there was a warm, soft sensation on her lips, and then it was over.
“Oh,” she said after opening her eyes.
He smiled and squeezed her hand. “I am pleased to be your first kiss.”
“How do you know you are my first kiss?”
“Some things are evident, my dear.”
She flushed in embarrassment and looked away, saying indignantly, “Would you prefer a woman who kissed every man she came across?” He laughed.
A deep, happy sound that echoed across the empty room.
She stood to leave, “I am glad you are amused, Mr. Darcy. Excuse me,” but was stopped by his hand grasping hers.
“Don’t be angry, darling. Come here.” He pulled her down next to him on the sofa and she went grudgingly, her body small and stiff next to his.
He couldn’t help chuckling again and turned her chin gently towards him.
He stroked her cheek softly as his laughter faded and she eventually raised her eyes to his.
He traced his fingers over her lips and looked at her questioningly. “May I?”
She nodded reluctantly and he leaned in, pressing a kiss to the corner of her mouth, first one and then the other, before kissing her more fully. She stayed stiff and immobile, refusing to give him the satisfaction of returning his kiss if he was only going to make fun of her.
He chuckled again and said quietly, “My beautiful, stubborn little woman. You are right.” Her eyes snapped to his. “I would not like a woman who kissed every man she came across, but I would like a woman who kissed the one she was engaged to.”
He kissed her again, swiftly, and pulled back to smile at her charmingly, as if he knew a great joke that she couldn’t possibly understand.
“I am not stubborn,” she said, crossing her arms over her chest. He laughed again.
“Whatever you say, my love.” He leaned back and crossed one leg over his knee, the very picture of relaxation and comfort, which only vexed Elizabeth more, as she was feeling decidedly tense and uncomfortable.
Taking advantage of his repose, she rose swiftly and crossed the room to the instrument.
“I shall play for you,” she said simply.
“Very well,” he replied.
“Thank you for the permission,” she said sarcastically.
He laughed again, his chest rumbling. Elizabeth began pounding the keys at an awkward volume and kept her eyes on the music. She would not give him the satisfaction of looking at him. Teasing man!
She spent a full forty minutes at the pianoforte, playing songs from memory and eventually taking out the piece she had recently learned and playing it to perfection. She ended with a gentle flourish and leaned back, much calmer and pleased with her efforts.
“That was beautiful,” Mr. Darcy said from his place across the room.
His voice was sincere and his smile genuine, so she responded in kind, “Thank you.”
He rose suddenly and came toward her. “It’s a pleasant evening. Shall we take a turn in the garden?”
She nodded and took his hand to rise, and he placed it on his arm. They walked slowly on the paths near the house, neither saying anything for several minutes.
“What is the schedule for our journey, or is it not yet fixed?” she asked.
“Do you mean the wedding tour itself or the events leading up to it?” he clarified.
“The latter,” she replied.
“Well, as I understand it, you will leave for London in six days. Your father says you will stay with a relative in town, though I did offer my home to your family.” She nodded.
He continued, “I believe the week before the wedding will be largely comprised of shopping to complete your trousseau, though that is your mother’s purview.
Then we will be wed on the seventeenth at church and there will be a breakfast following.
” He spoke clearly in a crisp tone, as if reciting his lessons for his tutor.
If he had not stroked the back of her hand and pulled her a little closer, she would not have known he had any affection for her at all.
“And after that?” she asked. Her voice sounded thick and choked to her own ears, but he did not seem to notice.
“We shall remain at Darcy House six days and then begin our journey to The Lakes.”
She could hear the excitement in his voice, though it was subtle, and a small amount of it transferred to her.
She had always wanted to see The Lakes; they would be beautiful regardless of who she was seeing them with.
Travel was its own reward and she was sure this would only be the first of many trips.
She reminded herself that he was a busy man with a wide acquaintance and she would not be required to be at his beck and call.
Surely he would have things to do, letters to write, hopefully friends to visit.
And her sister coming with her would make it more bearable.
But then, he had requested they travel alone.
“Fitzwilliam?”
“Yes, dear?” He smiled at her warmly.
“I shall have to get used to that.”
“Used to what? Being called dear?”
“Well, yes, but I was referring to your smile.”
“Pardon me?” he said, clearly confused.
“I have not seen you smile above ten times in all of our acquaintance.”
“Truly?”
She nodded. “But today alone you have smiled, or at least looked moderately pleased, nearly your entire visit.”
“Shall I flatter you and say it is all down to your enchanting presence?”
“Flattery has its place, but right now I think I’d prefer to hear the truth.”
He sighed. “The truth is that when I met you in Hertfordshire, I had just come away from a difficult family situation that had left me frustrated and angry and a great many other things I shouldn’t say to a lady.
” Her face showed surprise and then sympathy, and he gave her a tired smile.
“And I’m sure this will not surprise you, but Rosings is not the most relaxing place to visit. ”
“I don’t know what you mean. I found it delightful.”
He laughed aloud. “I take it all back. It is absolutely down to you and your lively presence. You make me laugh when I would otherwise brood, and I find you so wholly delightful I cannot help but smile when I see you, nor be anything but pleased when I recall we are to spend the rest of our lives together.”
He raised her hand to his lips for a kiss and she blushed, then looked away annoyed. “Fitzwilliam, you are making me blush.”
“I know. That is half the fun of complimenting you.”
She tried to glare at him but a hint of a smile came through. “What is the other half?”
“Saying it aloud. It is so strong a feeling in me that if I do not say it, it will surely do me harm.”
She blushed again, but was not annoyed this time. He led her to a small bench under an arbor and they sat together, their legs touching lightly due to the size of the seat.
“What were you going to ask me?” asked Darcy.
“Hmm?”
“Before we got distracted, you sounded as if you had a question for me.”
“Oh, yes, I wanted to talk to you about who would accompany us on our wedding trip. My father said you had mentioned wanting to go alone, but it seemed undecided.”
“And you want to know…?” he asked.
“Do you? Wish to go alone? And why?”
“Yes, I do wish to go alone. Because I would like to be with you without anyone else getting in the way.”
“In the way? How could my sister be in the way? She is the least obtrusive person I know.”
“In the carriage there would be all three of us if your sister came along, but if we went alone, we would have time to talk or rest peacefully. I might take your hand or kiss you without an audience.” He took her hand and kissed it as if to show her what the trip would be like.
She was terrified. Did he wish to kiss her the entire journey? It would take days! Surely that wasn’t normal. They would get tired, would they not?
“What are you thinking, my love?” he asked.
“Fitzwilliam, surely you do not intend to kiss me for five whole days!”
He laughed at the look of shock on her face. “This may surprise you, dearest, but I intend to kiss you every day of our wedding trip, and every day after we return to Pemberley, and likely every day after that until I am too old to do the job properly, though do not be surprised if I try anyway.”
She looked at him in astonishment, wondering who this man in front of her was.
He was being charming and funny, and completely unlike the Mr. Darcy she knew.
Wickham had said he could be agreeable in company, and she had heard him make witty remarks in Hertfordshire in the autumn, but this blatant merry making, this happy man was not one she recognized.
“I am sorry to shock you, my dear. I should not jest about such things. Forgive me,” he apologized, looking genuinely sorry and a bit concerned by her lack of response.
“I am not offended, but I thank you for the apology. I am merely surprised, that is all. The Mr. Darcy I knew did not speak with such levity. Nor did he flirt so blatantly.”
He smiled. “Perhaps that is because I am Fitzwilliam to you now.”