CHAPTER 21 #2
She hoped with all her heart he was right.
Since their escape, a persistent dread had lingered, that at any moment their captors might yet find them, and drag them back to their prison.
Improper as their present circumstance undoubtedly was, she found herself grateful, all the same, to share so comfortable a room with him.
Her thoughts returned to Jenny, sadness settling over her once more as she imagined what might have befallen the girl, praying she was not herself a captive somewhere, alone and frightened.
Elizabeth turned on her side and looked at Darcy on the settee, asking seriously, "Might you help find her?"
How very like Elizabeth Bennet, he thought, to care so deeply for others.
His regard for her rose further still. Had some girl gone missing beyond his own tenants, he might have spared it rather less thought, though he would certainly have sent a man to make inquiries.
Elizabeth, by contrast, was entirely resolved to see the matter through herself.
Her care extended well beyond the borders of her own family, and he found it as much a challenge to his own habits of mind as a comfort.
She will make a fine mistress of Pemberley, he thought.
"Sir?" she pressed, uncertain of his silence.
"Of course, Elizabeth. I will help you find Jenny Woodson. I hope only that she has not met with anything resembling our own ordeal. Had she a suitor, do you know?"
She shook her head. "None known to me."
"Then I am confident we shall find her," he replied, sounding confident.
Darcy’s confidence brought Elizabeth some relief, turning her frown into a smile as she looked at him. "Thank you, sir. You are too good."
"The pleasure is entirely mine, Elizabeth." He smiled at her again, and found it took every measure of his self-command not to cross the room and kiss her soundly then and there.
She is altogether lovely, he thought, quite lost in the sight of her smile.
He should like nothing better than to hold her, to love her, and he might easily have done both.
But he would not take that liberty; he could not.
He had always abhorred deceit and disguise of any kind, and he was resolved to face her father honestly, and tell him he had done everything within his power to protect her, including, not least, from himself.
His gaze drifted to the fire, watching the flames idly, until Elizabeth shifted onto her back, the small movement drawing his eye once more to the shape of her, resting against the pillows.
"I thought you proud once, Fitzwilliam, and did not care for you at all.
I confess I am rather ashamed now of that first impression.
My feelings run quite the opposite way at present.
" She found herself thinking of the extraordinary sensations his embrace had stirred in her, the gentle kisses upon her brow and cheek, of how very much she had liked the feeling of it, and felt, in some small way, a fraud for admitting as much even to herself.
He looked back towards her and asked, "What changed your opinion of me?"
She did not answer at once. "I believe it was watching you burst into that clearing, furious and frightened at once, chastising me with your words while your eyes told an entirely different story, of how terrified you were that I might be hurt."
"Was it?" He sounded genuinely alarmed by the notion.
She laughed. "Perhaps not that very moment, precisely.
But I have learned a great deal of your character these past days that has forced me to reconsider my earlier judgment entirely.
It began, I think, with your following me into the wood to be certain of my safety, and your every effort since to protect me from those men.
Your quiet words of comfort, even when we were forbidden to speak at all.
Your courage in freeing us, and your resolve to keep us free.
" She paused. "I believe now that what I took for pride and conceit in you was, in truth, discomfort.
I was angry with you, certainly, your words wounded my pride, and my vanity besides, and I let the whole neighbourhood know my displeasure by making light of your manner at every opportunity. I am sorry for it, Mr. Darcy."
"What could you possibly say that I did not deserve?
I have been indulged and selfish the whole of my life, overbearing besides, caring little for anyone beyond my own immediate circle, and weighing others chiefly by what they offered to my own consequence.
No, Elizabeth, here I stand, eight-and-twenty, and might have remained just such a man forever, had you not shown me otherwise, dearest. I owe you a debt I can hardly measure.
You have taught me a hard lesson, but one that will serve me better than any other I have learned.
You have humbled me, and shown me plainly what a proud fool I had become. "
She rose and crossed to where he sat, his head resting against the wall behind the settee, no longer troubling himself with the strict posture propriety generally demanded in a lady's presence.
He lifted his head as she approached, and she reached out, boldly, to touch his cheek.
"Let us quarrel no further, sir, over blame that belongs to us both in equal share.
Neither of our conduct today was entirely blameless.
And yet I think we have grown rather better at civility toward one another since, have we not? "
She smiled, and he could not help himself, could not have stopped himself now for any consideration of propriety or reason. He kissed her, softly, in the low firelight of the room, one hand coming to rest, entirely without his permission, at the curve of her jaw.
Only the smallest liberty, he told himself, drawing back at last to study the startled brightness of her expression, her lips still parted with surprise. "You, madam, are a woman truly deserving of being pleased."
She remained entirely speechless, giddy despite herself, one hand pressed unconsciously to her own mouth as though to hold the sensation there a moment longer.
"And now," he added, his voice rather less steady than he would have liked, "you must return to your own side of the room, for you are a very great danger to me indeed. "
His command followed close upon his tenderness, the two feelings warring plainly across his face, and though she obeyed it at once, rising with legs not quite so certain as she might have wished, Elizabeth could not help a private, secret pleasure at being told she posed any danger at all to the strongest, most self-possessed man of her acquaintance, Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy of Pemberley, brought so thoroughly, so delightfully undone by nothing more than a smile.