Chapter Eight #2
“Well, no matter, Richard. I shall content myself with apple tarts. Oh, my dear boy, you shall never vex me again!” Lady Catherine patted her nephew’s cheek; Richard looked rather disappointed. “Come, sit with me and Jane – does she not look lovely this morning?”
As Richard was dragged away to the wedding planning table, William looked between Bingley and Elizabeth, who had been lingering near the doorway as if waiting for her mother to forget about her in all the hubbub. She smiled warmly at William, taking slow, almost stealthy steps toward him.
“Good morning Mr. Darcy, Mr. Bingley.”
There was an awkward pause as William gave his old friend a polite but impatient look, silently willing the man to comprehend him.
Fortunately, he did. “You look remarkably well this morning, Miss Elizabeth. But I fear you shall think me very rude and unsociable – do ignore me, for I intend to read a most fascinating book.”
After uttering such words as he had probably never spoken in his life, Bingley picked up the first book he laid eyes on and carried it off to one corner of the room.
William still felt exceedingly agitated, despite having been in company with the present set of people very often in the last six weeks.
Elizabeth stared at him expectantly, and across the room Richard motioned his hand in a circle to hasten him, tipping his head pointedly to Lady Catherine.
William fidgeted uncomfortably, wishing to rip away his cravat entirely. “It is a charming day outside,” he said, rather hating himself.
Elizabeth grinned at him. “Are we to speak of the weather, Mr. Darcy? Or perhaps you mean to invite me to be outdoors, basking in said weather?”
“Yes, exactly – that is what I meant. The back garden at Matlock House is very, ah – well, I think I have not seen it in quite some time.”
Elizabeth pursed her lips into a smile that suggested she found his panic rather endearing, and William began to relax a little.
Fortunately, Rupert Fitzwilliam sauntered into the room with a jubilant belch, ready to disoblige his entire family by waking before noon.
Lady Catherine and the dowager countess began scolding him in unison, and Elizabeth quickly gave a breathy giggle as she took William’s hand and hastily dragged him out of the room.
She continued holding his hand as they made their way out of the house and began to stroll along the gravel path that wound through the small garden behind the townhouse. “We may not have long before Mamma notices our absence,” Elizabeth said softly.
William wasted no time. He lifted their entwined fingers to his lips to kiss the top of her gloved hand. “Elizabeth, ever since I met you, I have admired you more than any lady I have ever met… since… I met you….”
“Yes, I am aware of that, Mr. Darcy,” she said with another breathy laugh.
“I have often wished that, in public at any rate, you would be more demonstrative – but I understand your hesitation. I love Lady Catherine dearly, but her disapproval of you means nothing to me. You hold an irresistible fascination for me – even before I met you, I was far from indifferent….”
“Elizabeth….” William murmured, finding himself lost in the ardor of her gaze. “Wait, what? Before you met me?”
Her cheeks grew pink as she smiled up at him.
“I have always thought the name Darcy held such romance, such passion, such depth of feeling. My aunt, whom I adore, was called Darcy before she remarried, and I have always felt something moving and magnetic in that name. When I heard that my cousin Richard had a friend called Darcy, I had the highest hopes of your being a man I could love.”
William nearly tripped over his own feet, and his coat was snagged by a rosebush as he tried not to stumble. “And do you? Do you love me, Elizabeth?”
Confident joy fairly radiated from her sunlit face. “I do, most ardently.”
William took her other hand in his and drew Elizabeth closer to him. A gentle breeze rippled across them, and she shook away a few loose tendrils of dark, curly hair. She was utterly beguiling, and William was desperate to taste her lips once again. “Dearest, loveliest Elizabeth….”
She wet her lips with her tongue, nearly driving him to distraction. “Yes, Mr. Darcy? I believe you have something you wish to ask me?”
But the way she purred his name gave him pause; it was not his name, but he could hardly admit it or now, and spoil the beauty of such a moment. And yet, he had given his word to Richard. “Well, surely you do not mean to say that you could not love me if my name was not Darcy?”
She furrowed her brows for a moment and then shook her head as if he were merely teasing her. “But your name is Darcy.”
“I wonder if it really suits me.” This much was true, for William had lately been prone to doubting the wisdom of his false identity.
Why had he convinced himself that he must assume an entirely new persona in order to escape the tedium of his responsibilities?
Ought he not have simply attempted to learn a little of the levity he assigned to his role as Darcy?
“It suits you perfectly! It is a divine name,” Elizabeth said with a sultry smile. “There is something so musical in it, so vastly alluring.”
“Yes, but you know I was adopted, like you and your sister were. What if my name were something else?”
“Such as?”
“Well, the gentleman who took me in was called Grey. Or something more sophisticated like… Worthing?”
“Worthing? That is your notion of a sophisticated surname!” Elizabeth laughed and shook her head. “No indeed, it is far too dull, and somehow quite dour. But then, I am sure I should say the same of any name that is not Darcy.”
William was leaning closer, his head dipping toward hers, his entire body responding to her playful and enticing demeanor. “I wonder you have not taken that name yourself.”
Her eyes widened for a moment, and she gave him a look of saucy impatience. “I should like to, Mr. Darcy, but you have not yet made your offer. The subject has not even been touched on.”
Her suggestive tone and the alluring way she bit her lip sent another thrill through him; any impulse to confess the truth was thoroughly tamped down as he took her in his arms and kissed her.
She was wonderfully responsive, and his lips caressed hers until he was gasping for breath. “I love you, Elizabeth.”
And then he fell to one knee before her, already feeling the loss of their closeness, but he was determined to do this properly.
He took her hands in his as he gazed up at the look of elation of her face.
“I have been in anguish since you left Matlock House; our clandestine meetings have only left me with a certainty that I wish never to be parted from you. I beg you to end my suffering and consent to be my wife. Marry me, Elizabeth.”
“Yes,” she replied with a giddy laugh, though her answer was nearly lost to him as the door to the house flew open and Lady Catherine began calling for her daughter.
When she sighted the lovers, she strode forward with imperious indignation. “Arise, sir, from this semi-recumbent posture; it is most indecorous.”
William swiftly did as he was bid, but Elizabeth continued to hold his hands. “Mamma! Mr. Darcy was not quite finished.”
“I think he is quite finished.”
Elizabeth squared her shoulders defiantly. “We are engaged, Mamma. Will you not wish us joy?”
“I certainly shall not – and you are nothing of the kind. I have made my wishes and intentions perfectly clear in regard to your marital prospects, and contrary to popular opinion, I am not fond of repeating myself. But I believe we ought to take our leave of Matlock House, and subsequently of London entirely, as soon as it can be arranged. We will depart forthwith; you may go and wait for your sister and I in the carriage.”
“But, Mamma….”
“Elizabeth! The carriage!”
Elizabeth threw up her hands in frustration and stalked back toward the house, where Richard and Miss Bennet were peeking out of the back door with matching looks of horror.
Lady Catherine narrowed her eyes as she regarded William with a look meant to intimidate him.
“As a matter of courtesy, Mr. Darcy, I must inform you that you are not on my list of eligible suitors for my youngest daughter. I had thought my behavior toward you made that clear enough; our removal from Matlock House three weeks ago was meant to give you further illumination.”
“I am in love with her,” William said firmly. “As devoted as you are to her future prospects of happiness, does that not give you any clarity?”
She gave a chuckle that was nearly a harrumph.
“Well, I suppose that having some semblance of a spine sets you at a considerable advantage to some of the worthless young men favored by greater fortune. I am willing to be persuaded of your suitability, sir, if you would consent to speak privately with me at Lady Findlay’s house tomorrow at eleven o’clock.
I shall have a few questions about your… other qualities.”
***
Five minutes before eleven o’clock the next morning, William arrived at the residence of Lady Findlay, where Lady Catherine, her sister, and their daughters were staying.
Elizabeth was sitting with her sister, her cousin, and her aunt; the latter looked at him very strangely, just as she had done when first they were introduced, studying him intensely.
Lady Findlay made a cold greeting, but did not invite him to sit or take tea.
Elizabeth sprang up from her seat to greet him warmly. She whispered tender reassurances that all would be well, for Richard and Lady Anne had promised to speak to Lady Catherine on his behalf. “I love you, Mr. Darcy, and Mamma shall too, once she comes to know you.”