Chapter 59 A Shocking Impropriety
Miss Bingley’s expression and manner were so suggestive that even the two young ladies blushed. Mr. Darcy and Mr. Bingley also colored.
Elizabeth's cheeks grew heated as well, but from anger, not embarrassment.
Her narrowed gaze remained fixed upon her husband. She watched as he looked away from the offensive woman and raised his wineglass to his lips.
Then Miss Bingley turned her attention to Elizabeth and smirked.
As Elizabeth watched, Miss Bingley's hand slipped from Mr. Darcy's wrist and disappeared beneath the table.
Then Elizabeth saw her husband choke on his wine.
He sprang abruptly to his feet. The wine in his glass splashed across the damask tablecloth and onto Miss Bingley's plate and the bodice of her silk gown. Crimson stains spread wherever the wine landed.
Both Miss Bingley and Georgiana jumped to their feet in alarm.
Mr. Darcy snatched up his napkin and dabbed at his mouth and chin, as he coughed uncontrollably.
The wine had ruined a portion of the expensive tablecloth, spoiled Miss Bingley's dinner, and splattered the bodice of her very costly, very provocative gown.
Elizabeth could see droplets of wine trickling down the woman's décolletage, but ironically, he had somehow managed not to stain his own clothing.
Mr. Bingley was on his feet as well.
Georgiana moved immediately to her brother's side and began clapping him on the back as he gasped for air.
"Fitzwilliam, are you well?"
The young lady sounded genuinely distressed.
Elizabeth watched the drama unfold as though she were seated in a box at the theater rather than at the dinner table. She noted that Mr. Darcy was still coughing. The wine must have gone down the wrong way. But he was still coughing. Still moving air. He would survive Miss Bingley's assault.
She turned her gaze upon Miss Bingley. At first, the woman seemed stunned by the result of her inappropriate liberties with Mr. Darcy's person. Then Elizabeth saw Miss Bingley's face redden and her eyes narrow as she noticed the red blotches staining her expensive silk gown.
Amusement glinted in Elizabeth's eyes. That woman had received more than she had bargained for. Perhaps she would now hate Mr. Darcy for publicly humiliating her, and the Darcys would spend the rest of the visit in peace.
Then Elizabeth saw Miss Bingley raise her eyes to meet her own. The woman looked like a viper ready to strike.
So, it was not over.
Elizabeth turned her attention back to her dinner and ate another forkful of the perfectly prepared salmon. Kitty also continued to eat, while the others attended to the chaos Caroline Bingley had created.
Mr. Bingley motioned to a footman, who pulled Caroline's chair back, and the woman hurried from the table.
Georgiana said, "Fitzwilliam, here is a glass of water."
He took it and drank. The water calmed his cough, and they both resumed their seats.
Mr. Bingley asked, "Darcy, was the wine bad? Shall I call for another bottle?"
"No, Charles. The wine is not at fault."
Elizabeth saw confusion settle over her husband’s face. If the wine was not at fault, what was he to say next? He could hardly admit at the dinner table that Caroline had touched him inappropriately.
She paused in her meal to hear what explanation he would offer.
Mr. Darcy's gaze shifted to Elizabeth, and she raised her eyebrows in question.
He cleared his throat.
"It was a mouse. I saw a mouse running along the floor and over my shoe."
Charles pushed his chair back so abruptly that it scraped against the floor. He immediately began searching beneath the table for the offending creature.
The two girls both sprang to their feet and moved away from the table, shaking out their skirts.
Once again, Elizabeth remained seated.
She took another forkful of salmon.
Mr. Darcy looked at her, and she saw realization in his eyes. He knew that she knew what had actually occurred.
His face flushed again.
Elizabeth took a small sip of her drink.
"Mr. Bingley, I am not concerned about a mere mouse. Every house has them. I am certain that little fellow will not dare show his face again. Kitty, Georgiana, sit down, girls. The salmon has been perfectly prepared."
Mr. Bingley resumed his seat and picked up his glass. Elizabeth watched him take a sip of the deep red wine. His hand was shaking.
Elizabeth spoke, hoping to provide a distraction. "Sir, if you wish, I would be happy to inoculate you and any member of your household who would accept it. I intend to do the same for my family and the Longbourn tenants."
Mr. Bingley looked at Elizabeth, his expression relieved.
"You are right, Mrs. Darcy. The little mouse should not overset such a fine dinner as this."
He motioned to a footman to clear away Miss Bingley's plate.
Then, turning back to her, he added, "I would very much like to be inoculated. If it offers protection against that devastating disease, I would be grateful to you. And I shall inform all my servants so that they too may benefit from the protection it provides."
That night, when Mr. Darcy joined Elizabeth in her bedchamber, he first went to the door and turned the key.
"I have locked my bedchamber door as well."
She raised a brow.
"Elizabeth, did I not warn you that by dinner time you would understand why I never took to Miss Bingley?"
"Sir, when I heard you say so, I assumed she was merely insufferably arrogant or grasping. I even thought perhaps she was such a toady that her sycophantic ways had disgusted you forever. I had no idea you meant that you would be required to endure such liberties."
He raised a brow, and Elizabeth could see that her teasing had gone a little too far.
"I apologize, sir. After all, you cannot help it if you are a handsome, virile gentleman."
He had clearly heard enough.
Elizabeth was seated on the edge of her bed, combing out her hair. In three long strides, he was standing before her, and before she knew what he intended, he had pushed her gently back onto the mattress.
Bracing himself on his elbows, he hovered over her and looked down into her eyes.
"Yes, Mrs. Darcy. You were saying?"
She started to giggle.
He kissed the corner of her mouth and then trailed light kisses down her neck to the edge of her décolletage.
She was laughing now.
"You were saying, Elizabeth?" His eyes were laughing.
Through her laughter, she managed to gasp out, "Sir, it is no laughing matter."
"No? What is it then?"
He was still chuckling as he slipped an arm beneath her waist and rolled onto his back, bringing her with him. She found herself lying atop him.
"No, sir. It is not a laughing matter. That woman touched you."
"I did not ask for it, Elizabeth. I never imagined, not in a million years, that she would do such a thing. I promise you, she has never behaved in that manner in all the seven years of our acquaintance."
Elizabeth looked down into his serious eyes. He was telling the truth. She tucked her hair behind her ear to keep it from brushing his face.
"Never, sir?"
He was emphatic. Rolling over, he pinned her beneath him once more.
"We had this conversation earlier today. Never, Elizabeth. Do you not trust me?"
She lay staring up at him.
"I do trust you, Fitzwilliam, but I do not trust her."
He bent down and kissed her.
"I love you, Elizabeth."
He bent his head and kissed her again.
"Do not let this woman come between us. I believe that is precisely what she is trying to do. She sees that we are very happily married, and she cannot bear it. I shall tell Charles what actually happened tonight, and perhaps he will speak to her."
Elizabeth sighed. "I doubt it will do any good, sir. But you must speak with your friend, lest that woman succeed in compromising you. At least he will know that she is acting deliberately."
"Elizabeth, nothing and no one will ever come between us. I have participated in nine London Seasons and never met a woman I wished to marry until I met you. You are the other half of my heart, darling. I have never been so happy as I am with you. Please, do not let this termagant come between us."
Elizabeth sniffed and brushed away the tears that were running down her cheeks. She drew closer to him and kissed him full on the mouth, catching his lower lip between her own.
"I love you too, Fitzwilliam. I am afraid she will do something to ruin what we have. It is too good. How can such happiness last?"
He did not allow her to finish.
He drew her into his arms and kissed her again.
Then they were both lost to the frailties of human nature, to insecurities and fears and the obstacles that threatened their happiness, and instead celebrated the joy of their marriage.