Chapter 16 #2
He nodded his thanks and she continued, “I wanted to ask you what sort of marriage you wished to have.”
His brows rose quizzically and he sat up a bit straighter. “What do you mean exactly?” he asked, a mad thought running through his mind that perhaps she wished to discuss their sleeping arrangements.
“Well, I mean what sort of relationship will exist between us? Shall we be friends as well as spouses?” She could not bring herself to say lovers.
“Meaning, what sort of conversations will we have? What will we confide in each other, if anything? Who will have your first loyalty—your family and friends or me? Do you wish me to come to you with my troubles or to sort them out on my own? What sort of closeness shall exist between us?”
She was in earnest, that was clear to him, and he listened carefully to her words, wondering what had sparked these thoughts and if he should be reading between the lines.
“If I understand you correctly, you are asking if you can confide in me or if I would rather not be bothered?”
“Somewhat, yes.”
“Bother me. Every day, every hour, whenever the desire strikes you. I shall always listen attentively and seek to help in any way I can. You know that I love you, dearest, of course we shall be friends, and confidantes, and any other word you can think of. I desire a true partnership with you, not just a decoration on my arm. And it should go without saying that my loyalty is first to you, always.”
She sighed in relief, her shoulders slumping down from where they had been raised nearly to her ears.
“Thank you, Fitzwilliam. You’ve eased my mind.”
“Dearest, you seem distressed. Is there something you wished to speak about?” he asked, wishing they were already wed so that he could hold her and comfort her as she so clearly needed.
“It is Jane. I cannot betray her confidence, but I would like to ask you about something.”
He nodded.
“It is about Mr. Bingley.”
He leaned toward her.
“What sort of man is he? You know him well, do you not?” she asked.
“He is a good sort of man, kind, generous. But that is not what you mean, is it?”
“Not exactly. Last autumn, Mr. Bingley left the neighborhood without saying goodbye to anyone. He said he would be back shortly but never came back. It does not inspire trust. It is not the most… mature… behavior,” she said.
Darcy leaned back. “Ah. I think I see what you mean. Miss Bennet met Bingley in town again, did she not?”
Elizabeth nodded.
“And I imagine his attentions were just as pointed to her as they had been in Hertfordshire?”
Elizabeth looked at him but did not respond.
“Without betraying his confidence, I can tell you that Bingley is a young man, and with a sister who excels at management and no estate to be responsible to, he has been allowed to remain a young man. I have no doubt that with time and perhaps a steadying influence, he will grow into a very admirable man, one who would make an excellent husband and father, but if you are wondering if he is there yet, I’m afraid I will have to say no, he is not. ”
He spoke quietly and Elizabeth understood what he was doing.
He was proving his loyalty to her by sharing his private thoughts about his closest friend.
He was not breaking a confidence per se, but he was dancing precariously close to the line and she knew he would not have done it for anyone but her.
She squeezed his hand. “Thank you. If I may, one more question about our mutual friend?”
He smiled. “Of course.”
“Do you think he is serious about Jane? And if he is, would he then rise to the occasion and be his own man, like you, or would he continue to be bossed about by his sisters?”
“That is more than one question, Elizabeth!”
She shrugged, not sorry in the least. He sighed.
“Miss Bennet has a particularly serene personality and I believe she would be a steadying influence on Bingley. However, I can see how from a woman’s perspective that may seem like an enormous risk to take.
Allow me to say though, in Bingley’s defense, he is not always persuaded by his sisters.
The majority of the time their demands fall on deaf ears unless it is something he feels duty-bound to do, and no, not everything falls into that category.
And while I think he is not yet ready to be a husband, I do not think it to be too far into the future. ”
Elizabeth thought on this for a moment and was satisfied at first. After all, in Hertfordshire she had been witness to multiple occasions of Bingley telling his sisters no and doing what he wished to do instead, which, of course, made his desertion all the worse.
He could have come back to Hertfordshire.
If he was persuaded to stay away, he allowed himself to be.
“Does Miss Bennet doubt his trustworthiness?” he asked, looking curious and slightly uncomfortable.
“Whether she does or not, I certainly do.”
“And you wield a great deal of influence over your sister.”
“Less than you wield over your friend,” she said with a knowing look.
His eyes widened slightly. She spoke before he could respond.
“I have long suspected you convinced Mr. Bingley not to return to Netherfield and I was angry at first, but my father and I spoke of it and I realized he is his own man. It was his decision to make; he did not have to listen to you. He should have trusted his own judgment, but he didn’t.
That cannot be laid at your door.” She took a deep breath and looked around before resettling her sight on Darcy. “He is not like you.”
He looked confused and she continued, “Do stop looking so worried, Fitzwilliam! I am not angry with you.”
She smiled and he exhaled gruffly, feeling like he had dodged a particularly nasty bullet. “What do you mean, ‘he is not like me’?”
“I mean from the outside, you have similar situations. You are each young men, have already inherited, and are each responsible for a sister, though yours is much younger. But you are a man full grown, while Mr. Bingley is still in process.”
He was looking at her with a peculiar gleam in his eyes and she returned his stare.
“What?” she asked after several moments passed and he said nothing.
“Come.”
He stood and took her by the hand, leading her to the path that would take them to the shore.
He stopped abruptly in a secluded nook at the end of the garden path before it opened to the stairs leading down.
He swiftly pressed her into the niche in the wall and placed his arms on either side of her head, leaning down to kiss her deeply.
It was several minutes before he released her lips, and then he pressed his forehead to hers and caught his breath.
“A man full grown, am I?”
She laughed a bit breathlessly. “As you see.”
He smiled and kissed her again, this time more slowly, gently tracing her upper lip with his tongue.
She started at the contact and pulled back, then slowly returned her mouth to his.
After another minute of exploration, she tentatively traced her tongue along his lips as he had done hers.
He moaned and she pulled back again, a question in her eyes, and he pulled her to him, placing one hand behind her neck while the other wrapped around her waist. She placed her hands on his sides and slowly wrapped them around to his back, drawing him closer.
It wasn’t long before Darcy withdrew, resting his forehead against hers again, his breathing ragged.
“So that is what a man full grown kisses like. I shall tell Jane to secure one immediately.”
He laughed and withdrew, running a hand through his hair and walking a few steps away from her.
“I cannot wait till we are wed, Elizabeth.”
This reminder of what was to come silenced her teasing and filled her with a sudden trepidation. She nervously smiled and walked toward the shore trail.
“Come, let us greet the sea today.”