Chapter 2.9
After another restless night, full of hopes, questions, worries, joy and speculations shared between the two sisters, on the following day the three gentlemen arrived.
The introduction was performed with some difficulty. The notion that Mr. Darcy was visiting her house was beyond the imagination of Mrs. Gardiner and she—always a perfect host – barely found the words to invite them in.
It was difficult to say who in attendance was more uneasy, more embarrassed, more anxious, more emotional. The colonel and Mr. Gardiner were the first to recover enough and start to talk.
Slowly, after some drinks and refreshments, tongues slowly untied and the conversation began to flow.
With the utmost remorse and visible torment, Mr. Bingley declared he had been out of town for two months and had just returned a week ago.
He said he had been completely oblivious to Jane’s presence in town until Darcy informed him only two days before.
He continued to mumble, to apologise and to declare how enchanted he was to see them again and how much he had missed Hertfordshire.
Elizabeth and Darcy exchanged some looks and tentative smiles, acknowledging that one of his greatest errors was on the way to being remedied.
The subject of Derbyshire and Pemberley quickly arose and Darcy was surprised and delighted to hear that Mrs. Gardiner had strong connections with that place too. From that moment on, the uneasiness slowly dissipated, replaced by joyful conversation.
An hour after they arrived, Darcy addressed his host.
“Mr. Gardiner, I would greatly appreciate it if you and Miss Elizabeth would grant me a few minutes for a private conversation.
I wish to inform you about the progress of our present matter of concern.
I have already applied for a special licence and some legal papers have been completed by my solicitors.
Elizabeth’s distress quickly returned, as her uncle accepted. All three moved to the library and there, Darcy began to speak, mostly to Mr. Gardiner.
He showed them a settlement that needed Mr. Gardiner and Mr. Bennet’s approval. He said he had written to Mr. Bennet but had not received any reply yet. Then more and more legal matters were discussed to which Elizabeth paid no attention.
She remained mostly silent, watching Darcy—her soon to be husband. The man to whom she would bind herself for life. The man who—shockingly—she admitted she had missed and was glad to see again.
He looked tired and preoccupied, but rather animated. His voice had lost the usual arrogance, addressing Mr. Gardiner as an equal. Then he complimented the library, admiring several volumes.
In the end, he pleaded with them to indulge another unusual and hardly proper request. His voice, however, was grave and almost humble, so refusing him was impossible.
“Mr. Gardiner, would you be so kind as to allow me a short conversation with Miss Elizabeth? There is something important that I believe needs to be clarified, especially since she will return to Longbourn soon.”
The host glanced at his niece and she nodded.
“Of course, sir,” he said, admitting that he would not be able to refuse Mr. Darcy anything, anyway.
When the door closed behind Mr. Gardiner, Elizabeth and Mr. Darcy sat on the same settee, sharing tentative smiles. They were alone in a room again.
“I am glad you have arrived safely in town,” Darcy whispered.
“Thank you, sir. For your concern and for bringing Mr. Bingley to call on us so quickly.”
“You were right, and I have been utterly wrong. I realised it the moment I spoke to Bingley and witnessed his reaction,” he admitted.
“Well, it is a good start to our relationship, if you so easily admit to being wrong,” she teased him.
“I hope so,” he said in earnest.
They were sitting a small distance apart, side by side, facing each other.
“Miss Bennet – first of all, would you agree to calling each other by our Christian names? Is this acceptable to you?”
“Of course...Please do not feel the need to be so formal, sir. I have already accepted your proposal and you may feel at ease to tell me anything.”
“Thank you.”
She laughed. “And please do not thank me so often.”
His smile widened. “Very well, then. My name is Fitzwilliam. Strange, I know. It is a custom to be given one’s mother’s name.”
“It is not strange – but a strong name. How should I address you?”
“In any way you like.”
“Very well. For now, I shall call you Fitzwilliam.”
“And what should I call you? Elizabeth? Or Lizzy?”
“Whichever you wish, sir...Fitzwilliam.”
“Very well, Elizabeth. I hope you agreed with the settlement? If there is anything you would like to change or to add…”
“I do not wish to change anything. And I did not pay attention to it. I am sure it is fair. It is not my concern at all. I am more anxious about your family’s thoughts and their reception of me.”
“You will meet them in the next few days, while you are still in town. They know that you saved me and no one—of my acquaintance—believes the rumours of course. I am not the sort of man to indulge in scandalous encounters in the woods… Not now, or ever in my life.”
“I am glad to hear that…”
“You must know that I have confessed to them my admiration for you. As much as it can be publicly mentioned, of course,” he said, his face suddenly red from embarrassment.
She knew she should have been ashamed, but she was mostly amused by his reaction.
“Thank you…” she said, and he laughed.
“You should not thank me so much, Elizabeth,” he teased her back.
“Very well, sir…”
They shared more smiles, then his expression turned more serious.
“Elizabeth, the reason I wish to speak to you now is an important and serious one.”
“Not something too grave, I hope...”
“Sadly yes. It is about Wickham.”
She gasped at him, blushing. Could he have guessed her worries?
“Elizabeth, I must ask. Do you entertain any tender feelings for him?”
Her eyebrow arched.
“Tender feelings? What could you possibly mean? I do consider Mr. Wickham a friend of our family. But nothing more. I hope you do not suspect anything improper!”
“No, no...I just wish to know how much I will pain you when I reveal my past dealings with him. His character must be exposed since you will return to Longbourn and see him again. I know he related to you some horrible things about me—he has done this often over the years.”
Elizabeth turned pale.
“He did tell us about your refusal to give him the living—the inheritance left by your father. His godfather.”
“Yes, the living... there is much more to be said, and I beg for your patience. And for your discretion. What I am about to tell you is unknown by any other living soul except those involved, and my cousin, Robert.”
His voice startled her, as it betrayed the gravity of the situation.
Darcy began to speak. His voice changed as he mentioned his excellent father, then Wickham’s father, his childhood, his youth.
Then the narration came closer to Wickham’s deceptions, and dishonourable actions, to his claims, to his wasteful nature.
Then grief overwhelmed him as he related to her the story of Georgiana and her ordeal after being deceived by Wickham.
When he finished, she was tearful, burdened by remorse, trembling from her emotions.
She broke the silence, barely daring to hold his gaze.
“Mr. Darcy…Fitzwilliam. I cannot tell you how sorry I am for your suffering and for believing Mr. Wickham so unconditionally. I shall never forgive myself for being—”
“Elizabeth, I shall not hear any of this. I told you the truth because Wickham has always tried to hurt people who are important to me. I did not wish to simply forbid you to see him, but now that we will be married soon, I hope that knowing the truth will help you to protect yourself and your sisters. He is not to be trusted. And I secretly hope you will be able to help my sister, too...Her disappointment and despair, the many nights she has spent without sleep, crying…She is a little better now. I tried to help her, but with not much success. She is still ashamed of me. Or she simply distrusts me… I pray daily that she will fully recover in time.”
His grief was so obvious that Elizabeth felt a strong urge to wrap her arms around him and hold him tightly. But she did not dare to. Instead, she took his hands in hers, gazing deeply into his eyes.
Surprised, he remained still a moment, then slowly lifted her hands without loosening his grip, and pressed them against his chest.
Elizabeth could feel his every breath. She tried to say something. Her lips parted, but the lump in her throat kept her silent until a soft whisper finally emerged. “I am so sorry…”
Their faces were so close that each could feel the other’s warm breath. She trembled, and chills travelled wildly down her spine and arms. Her stomach was in a knot.
She stared at him, mesmerised. his head lowered slowly, and his lips, soft and timid, pressed against the back of each of her hands.
His eyes searched her face for a sign of rejection, but there was none.
He licked his lips to collect her scent, then he bestowed a lingering kiss on her palms and on each wrist.
His lips were moist yet burning, soft yet strong and gentle yet daring. She closed her eyes, and she felt she would faint.
“Elizabeth?” she heard him calling her name.
She looked at him through heavy lashes; he was now even closer to her. No words were said, but he was asking for her consent. So she tentatively leaned her head closer, closing her eyes, again, until she felt her lips captured into the most astonishing and delightful trap.
It was more a gentle touch of their lips than a passionate kiss, but so intense that time seemed to stop. His right hand slowly glided to the back of her neck, his fingers finding a rebellious lock of her hair, as his left hand encircled her waist.
Darcy was fighting his desires desperately.
He could not allow his hands to caress her as he wished, his arms to embrace her as closely as he wanted, nor his lips to satiate their thirst. It was astounding enough that she allowed him such liberties and even more, she seemed willing to take part in it.
He felt her lips shyly pressing his own, and her soft, warm body crushed against him. She was shivering slightly in his embrace and every fibre of his body desired more.
Many nights and days he had dreamed of that moment, about the pleasure he would feel the very first time. But ‘pleasure’ seemed a poor word to describe the sensations aroused in him, the amazing, powerful storm inside him. Love would be a better word. Deep, strong, ardent love!
Elizabeth did not dare breathe in his arms. But she needed nothing else but the warmth of his lips, the strength of his body against hers, and the comfort of his embrace.
In that moment, the meaning of the words she had read on those lost papers became clearer to her. Just as the clouds of fear that had shadowed the image of her future marriage disappeared.