20. Saint Dionis Backchurch, London—Thursday, 28 December 1809
Elizabeth’s uncle and aunt had made clear to William that he was welcome any time, not just during polite calling hours.
He arranged to call the morning after their festivities at Hyde Park, and when she woke to find that London was snowy, for the first time since she had arrived, she begged him to take a walk with her.
“I will, if you wear a pelisse and a warm cloak, and proper boots, a hat, and warm gloves.”
“I will do my best,” she promised. “But I do not know if my boots will seem proper to you—or if my gloves are up to keeping my hands warm.”
“Can you wear gloves and a muff?”
“I can, and I will.”
“We will need to do some shopping before we go to Pemberley,” William announced. “The Derbyshire winters are much colder than what you are used to.”
What with the coal smoke, the garbage, the almost constant traffic, and the manure, the snow that had fallen on the road had become a disgusting, lumpy, blackened slush.
They walked on the raised flagstone path, which was not nearly as disgusting, but it was well-trod and therefore muddied, and in places it was very slippery.
Elizabeth was happy that, not only did they walk with linked elbows, but William used his other hand to have an additional hold on her arm.
If she slipped, she hoped he would prevent her going down.
Now, if he slipped….
She chuckled a little at the picture of her tall, handsome intended slipping on some ice—and her somehow managing to stabilise him. It seemed much more likely that she would go down with him.
“What is humorous?” he asked, already looking diverted.
“I am just attempting to picture me helping you stay upright if you should slip.”
“I will not slip,” he promised. “On this kind of day, I do not wear Hessians. I wear practical work boots."
She soon directed him through a gate in a wall.
“I love this little church yard,” she said.
“In the spring it will have so many snowdrops and crocuses, and then cowslips and primroses take over. Later there are daisies and even a few violets. And there are many memorial plants growing on the graves.”
“And in the winter…it looks magical,” William said. He looked around with apparent satisfaction at the pristine humps and sweeps of snow.
“Exactly.”
After a few minutes of breathing in the beauty of the myriad of short icicles hanging from the eaves and sparkling in the bright sunlight, Elizabeth turned to William and announced, “I have something important to talk about.”
“I do as well, but please, you speak first, oh queen of frost.”
“My father wrote back, giving his written permission and blessing as well as Uncle’s. He gave us permission to wed whenever we wish, and from your church, if that is our choice. He would like to walk me down the aisle, and he is positive he can do so with several days’ notice.”
“Good.” A smile lit his face. “I will have the wedding license in hand in two days. The important thing I had wished to talk about is a question: when do you wish to wed?”
“My aunt is a more important mother figure to me than my own mother,” Elizabeth admitted. “I would love to have her at my wedding. But she will not be churched until Thursday, January 18. Tommy will be baptised that day, too. Can we arrange our wedding the day after that?”
“If that is what you wish, I will make it so.”
Elizabeth felt as though he was disappointed to have to wait so long, but he assured her that he knew he might have to wait much longer.
“We hurried into our engagement, and although I am extremely pleased to have settled things so quickly, I also feel as if you were denied the courtship you deserved.”
“Not at all, sir. The only reason I wish to wait…”
He reached out and took hold of her upper arms, well hidden within the fur-lined cloak, but somehow he managed to grasp them firmly.
“Of course I understand why. Your aunt is important to me, as well. If she had been another sort of aunt, we would likely not be engaged to marry right now. And you must have other, better reasons for wishing her at our wedding.”
“Thank you,” Elizabeth whispered. Being so close together, and finally alone, she lifted her face, hoping for more kisses.
He seemed happy to fulfil that hope.
Soon after they started kissing, Elizabeth realised that William had threaded his hands through the opening of her cloak and was stroking her back, sides, and even buttocks.
She felt thrilling chills and, in contrast, upwellings of heat.
She gasped into William’s mouth and almost swooned when he moved his hands from her backside to her front—
“Oh!” she said and pulled away.
“I apologise,” he murmured.
“What are you apologising for?” she whispered back.
“Whatever made you pull away.” He looked as likely to swoon as she had felt.
She said to him, “It is not a what, it is a who.”
Whipping around, William acknowledged the curate with a bow, mumbled “Newly engaged,” and led Elizabeth out of the courtyard with as much dignity as if they had not been caught in an embrace.
Elizabeth waited until they were several buildings away before she said in a low voice, “I may never go to that church yard again.”
“No need to invoke never,” William said, “because curates generally leave particular parishes for others in order to chase a living or a higher salary. He is not likely to be here five years from now, and he may leave much sooner than that.”
“Five years is a long time, William.” Elizabeth laughed. “I cannot think why I should wish to leave Pemberley in order to come to this small church of which I was never a member.”
William took a deep breath, seeming to savour it before blowing out a small cloud into the cold air. He said, “I adore hearing you speak of Pemberley as your home. I will be counting the minutes until it truly is.”
“Now that we have a date,” she replied, “we have much to do. You have to make arrangements with your church—I suppose that should be done first in case there is another wedding scheduled for that date—and then we must write to people, make appointments for those winter clothes you believe I need, and make a list of a lot of other things, too—but I do not know what things, as of yet.”
“I will go to my church tomorrow morning,” William promised. “And then we can write our letters together.”
They walked on, arms linked and hands holding onto one another, since it was getting colder, and therefore the path was icier.
Once they were finally safe in front of the Gardiner’s home, William kissed her hand and whispered, “It means everything to me that you seem to share my passion.”
“I feel like you are still teaching me what desire is, what passion is. I am not positive I can be said to feel equally, since I am still so confused about all of it.”
“I do not know what other ladies are like from experience,” William said in a soft voice, “but from what other men have said, I gather that you are amazingly responsive and positive. It makes me feel so impatient, but it also gives me the assurance that my patience will pay off. You seem to constantly make me have oppositional feelings at the same time.”
“As you do me—how dare you give me chills and upwellings of heat at the same time? How can you make me feel fragile and strong all at once? How can I feel breathlessly as if I am entering an entirely new world, even as I feel a deep rhythmic connection to the ancients who lived before us and, even, to all living things?”
“I think it is love,” William said. “You love me, and I love you, Elizabeth. That is what all the tumult and confusion and excitement are about… True, deep love.”