Chapter 13
Never had a night been so long for Elizabeth, nor did she wish for the dawn to appear with so much eagerness. She had hardly slept at all, yet she felt rested; she stared at the window, looking at the stars and allowing the summer night breeze to caress her face. The stars were so many and the moon lit the sky so powerfully that she could clearly see the surroundings. It was late August and autumn was near. Almost a year since she had met him.
‘How early should I go?’ she wondered. ‘How early can I hope to meet him? Surely I cannot presume him to be there at dawn. He surely is not as silly as I am to stay awake the entire night.’
She returned to her bed, begging for sleep to envelope her at least for a little while. But then she suddenly felt afraid that she might fall asleep and would not be able to awake in time. So she lit the candle and started to read, but his image was the only thing active before her eyes. She put the book down, closed her eyes and allowed her memories to take control of her thoughts over her senses… She was not sleeping, yet she was dreaming.
After an hour, Elizabeth’s patience evaded her. She observed the clock – it was three in the morning. She hurriedly dressed herself and put in two hairpins to keep her locks straight then covered them with her bonnet. She took her gloves and wrote a few words on a sheet of paper, just in case, letting Jane know she could not sleep and went for a morning walk. However, she was certain nobody in the house would check on her for many hours. She was also certain that he would not come for at least a couple of hours; but, in any case, it was much better to be outdoors waiting for the sun to rise than to remain trapped in her room.
She walked carefully though the trees, attentive not to meet anyone; it was the hour when some of the field workers were already out, but surely she was not on a path to meet any of them. She was alone: only herself and her thoughts.
Her heart stopped when she heard steps moving closer and the sound of a horse; she remained still in the middle of the road, not certain if she should hide or simply return to the house as Longbourn was still in her view. She had no time to do either, as the man appeared in front of her and she gasped in surprise.
With two more steps he was near her, his hands capturing her arms then cupping her face while their eyes met.
“Elizabeth, what are you doing here at this hour?”
Her heart raced wildly, and she struggled to breathe normally again. She barely managed to speak.
“I could ask you the same question, sir…William…”
He did not answer; in utter silence, his fingers tentatively explored her face from her cheeks up to her eyes, to her temples, to her forehead then lowered again to trace the line of her jaw, brushing against her throat then returning toward her cheeks while his thumbs, as gently as a breeze, caressed her lips. His eyes, intensely deepening into hers, followed his fingers and remained fixed upon her mouth. Instinctively, her hands encircled his waist searching for support.
“It is not safe for you to be here at this hour, Elizabeth. It is almost the middle of the night.”
“I could not sleep…but it is safe, now that you are here.” She tried to smile though for some unknown reason tears appeared under her lashes. “But why are you here, sir? This is not where we are supposed to meet…”
His dark gaze and his gentle thumbs were still caressing her mouth, now half open as she spoke.
“I could not sleep either, thinking of you, Elizabeth. I do not know why I came here… I just wanted to look at your house and to wait for you… ”
His head lowered toward hers, and she stopped breathing, waiting to feel the delicious touch of his kiss. But his lips tenderly pressed over each of her eyes then he pulled her closer to his chest and held her tightly. She felt disappointed but her heart melted with lov,e and she leaned her head against his heart – his heart which seemed to belong to her.
“Come,” he said after some time. He put one arm around her shoulder and, with the other, took the horse’s reins.
Within a quarter hour of walking, they finally reached the grove where they had met previously. Still silent, he freed his arms from hers and bound the horse to a tree, then, to Elizabeth’s shock, he pulled a packet from behind his saddle. She looked at him, her eyebrow rose in wonder and she started to laugh when he undid the packet and a blanket appeared.
Skillfully, he laid the blanket under a tree; Elizabeth laughed even harder. “It appears, sir, that you took everything under consideration.”
“Thank you, Miss Bennet; yesterday you had to uncomfortably sit on an old log, so I thought I would not allow that to happen again.” He smiled, obviously satisfied with her reaction. “Shall we?” he invited her and ceremoniously took her hand and invited her to sit. He sat near her, his back against the tree. She blushed and was grateful it was still dark so he could not see her flushed cheeks. He was close, and they were both sitting on the blanket upon the grass, shockingly and highly improperly intimate. She expected any moment he would take her in his arms; but he only took her hands in his and pulled them to his lips.
“I missed you so dearly, Elizabeth.”
“I missed you too, William.”
“I cannot believe you are here, with me, that I am holding you in my arms… I still cannot believe everything that happened is true… I am still afraid something will happen…or that I will say or do something to make you leave again…” He was forcing himself to smile.
“Oh, William, I will never leave you again; I promise you that. There is nothing possible you could do or say to make me leave.”
“I have told you so many inconsiderate things in the past, Elizabeth, and I have behaved so rudely to you that…”
She would not listen to him any longer and could not bear the painful need of feeling his kisses again. So she decided to do the only possible thing: her hand daringly touched his face while her lips pressed against his mouth, silencing him. He was surprised and remained still for a moment, and she dared not move her lips at all, but kept them pressed against his. Then his left arm encircled her shoulder and pulled her toward him while his right hand slide along her cheek and her ear, entering her silky hair. The hairpins fell out immediately, and her locks covered his fingers.
His mouth remained passive less than an instant, then it trapped her lips, tentatively, gently at first, then tender but daringly, as possessed by a thirst which only she could satiate. She gasped and froze momentarily when she felt his tongue tasting and caressing her lips then slipping inside, taking possession of her mouth. Her free hand rested on his chest and she leaned her head back; his left hand came to gently support her neck.
As if in a dream, she felt his fingers untying her bonnet and pushing it aside, then finding their way in her hair while their close bodies leaned together lower and lower until they were both reclined upon the blanket, never ceasing their passionate kisses. Elizabeth did not realized what was happening, except that his body moved closer, and his scent made her dizzy; she could hardy breathe, but she did not need to breathe – she did not want her lips to be free from his nor did she want him to withdraw from her. His mouth left hers for a moment and his lips traced countless small kisses along her face then returned to her mouth again. A moment later they lowered to the line of her jaw and caressed her throat softly; she moaned and her hands held him even tighter. He covered her moans with another kiss and she felt grateful – she already missed his lips! With few of her senses remaining, she felt his fingers brushing her arm, then slipping around her waist and traveling upward along her ribs until his hand reached and rested upon the place where her heart was beating. She gasped loudly and stiffened.
In a moment Darcy stopped and only then did they both realize he was almost completely covering her with his weight. His first reaction was a deep worry and fear that he had gone dangerously too far, taking advantage of her confusion. He would have almost gone even further. He instantly realized his hand was cupping her breast and withdrew it instantly, leaning away from her to free her body. He tried to regain his normal breathing enough to be able to beg for her forgiveness and, while doing that, dared to meet her eyes. Her face was flushed, and she was breathing with difficulty. Her lips were swollen, red and moist from his kisses while her hair, in great disorder, was spread around her and a few locks were resting on the soft, creamy skin of her neck. Her eyes were darker then usual and sparkling with a passion he had never seen in them before…with love.
He knew he should apologize and promise he would restrain himself from repeating his wild behavior. But that would be grossly deceptive.
“Elizabeth…please forgive me if I frightened you… I know what I have done was highly improper and…”
“You did not frighten me,” she managed to answer, then added, her face lit by the early dawn light, “I was a little frightened, but not by what you have done but rather what I did…and what I felt… I have never before…” She could not continue, but her eyes were speaking clearly.
He smiled at her, and his fingers again caressed every inch of her face, then he lowered his head and placed a soft kiss on her swollen lips. He rose to sit and pulled her with him, quite unceremoniously. She laughed as she almost fell. He embraced her tenderly, carefully, his back against the tree, holding her against his chest. His arm encircled her shoulders again, and his right hand took both her hands in his, his fingers playing with hers.
She relaxed and calmed herself, her passion replaced by comfort and safety. “Elizabeth, I know I should apologize for kissing you so…but I cannot say I am sorry for doing it, because it would be a lie. I do not regret it, not for a moment. I have longed for, dreamed of and desired for so long to kiss you, to hold you… But I do regret that my eagerness perhaps made me too violent in my gesture… I would not want you to be afraid of me, Elizabeth. I shall never do anything that you would not wish for, and I shall never try to force you in anything… I hope you know that…”
“I do know that, William, and I thank you for not apologizing for kissing me, because I felt you did not regret it…no more than I did. I was the one who kissed you first,” she admitted, her embarrassment obvious.
“Yes you did, but I doubt you expected my response to be so…unrestrained.” He tried to sound light and even laughed.
“Well, perhaps you are not as restrained as you used to consider yourself to be,” she laughed back.
“No, I am not – certainly not when I am with you…”
“I am glad to hear that, sir,” she replied teasingly. He turned her face toward him to see her eyes.
“Elizabeth, do you remember that evening at Lucas Lodge when you refused to dance with me?”
She was a little surprised at the sudden twist of topic. “Yes, I do, sir…”
“That evening, while we talked, I felt such an urge to kiss you right there in the middle of the room, that it truly hurt. I could hardly control myself from not simply pulling you into my arms and brushing away the teasing, satisfied smile spread over your lips. And your eyes – your eyes always laughed, and I thought you were laughing at me…but in truth you were laughing about me and it took me so long to understand that…” His tone was low and full of emotion, but he tried to keep his smile; yet she could see how affected he truly was – and her distress was equal to his.
Her hand rose to caress his face, and he turned to place a small kiss inside her palm.
“I was such a ridiculous, pompous fool all those weeks… I tried so hard to repress my feelings for you…during the Netherfield Ball…the first moment I saw you, I was breathless… Your beauty, your liveliness bewitched me and I wanted nothing more than to be near you. Instead, I resigned myself to staying apart and following you with my eyes. I saw you looking around for Wickham… You were searching for Wickham then, were you not?”
She nodded with regret and mortification.
“Then I saw you dancing with Collins and…I felt jealous…jealous of Wickham, jealous even of Collins for being able to dance with you, to hold your hand…”
“William…” She wanted him to stop recalling all those painful memories – painful and ridiculous because they were the result of their follies and their mistaken pride and prejudice. But he still had more to say.
“Then I asked you to dance – and it was my most painful torture. I felt you so perfectly suited to me. I knew we were so well-matched in our dance, yet we argued bitterly the entire time… And, instead of talking to you and attempting to correct your wrong impression of me I choose to run…taking Bingley with me… Now I know that, in doing so, I have broken Bingley’s heart and Miss Bennet’s, too. But no heart was so painfully ripped apart as mine, Elizabeth. I had never, until that day, been forced to separate from the woman I loved. In truth I have never loved anyone until I met you, my Elizabeth.”
She cupped his face with both of her hands; she felt warm tears burning and did not struggle to stop them. She looked deeply into his eyes while her fingers started to unbuttoned his coat shyly, awkwardly .He looked at her, mesmerized and incredulous.
Finally, her hand slide inside his waistcoat and for a moment she tensed at the feeling of his warmth burning through the thin fabric of the shirt. Her face looked a little disconcerted but not for long. Shocked, wrapped in the most exquisite sensation, Darcy felt her hand exploring further and resting over his heart.
“From now on I shall take good care of your heart, William,” she said, lowering her head and placing a soft kiss upon the same spot. Both her hand and her lips were covering his heart.
He said nothing, but embraced her within his arms and pulled her close to him as though trying to make their bodies as one. Her warm, steady breath was burning him through the thin fabric and he wanted to hold her like that forever. It was not just pleasure, passion, or desire…but pure and complete love.
“Look, William,” she suddenly cried after they had lain together in utter bliss for a time.
He turned his head to the point she directed. “Oh, William, the sun is rising… I have never seen the sunrise outdoors before… What a perfectly beautiful sight to behold…” She rose to better admire the wonderful view and he joined her. From behind her, he embraced her, she ensconced within his arms. She leaned her head against his shoulder while her free hair was tantalizing his neck. “You are the perfect beauty,” he whispered while his lips remained to tease her earlobe.
“William, do be serious! Is it not beautiful? I am so happy I have seen my first sunrise with you…”
“I am serious, my love,” he answered, and his words gave her shivers. “But do you realize that having seen the sunrise together means we have spent the night together?”
“Indeed, it does mean that,” she replied blushing, forcing herself to sound light and teasing. She suddenly turned in his arms so she could face him. Their bodies were almost painfully crushed against each other while her hands found their way around his neck.
“Elizabeth…” he whispered hoarsely and lifted her off from the ground to gently deposit her on the blanket again. “We should leave very soon. Somebody might appear…”
“Yes, we should, very soon,” she admitted.
She knew he would kiss her again – and she desperately wished for him to do so. Under the assault of his hungry lips, she leaned on her back again, pulling him with her. His kisses were different in a million ways yet so perfectly and equally delightful. Small, tender kisses, gentle and light, tantalizingly spread over her face, her throat, even lowering to her shoulders, then daringly to the neckline of her dress. How hungrily, long and possessive were his kisses which devoured her mouth and left her breathless, throwing her in a storm of sensations as she had never dreamed to experience. With gentle, warm caresses, his hands explored her arms, her neck, her shoulder, her face, every spot of uncovered skin, then again, his right hand encircled her waist for a moment and then moved upward… Elizabeth stopped breathing. Even in that tumult of feelings, she knew what was next; when his fingers brushed lightly against her breast, she moaned, and her back arched instinctively. He slowed his kisses and allowed her to breathe while his fingers continued to gently caress the soft roundness through the thin fabric then moved slowly toward the other. His touch was so light that she could not say if it was real or only imagined – and it soon turned into a sweet torture. A torture she did not want to end but to turn…into something more.
“My love…we should really be gone now,” Darcy said, drawing her shockingly back to reality. “And I think I should accompany you home and speak to your father without delay.”
Not even when they started back was Elizabeth completely recovered.
Darcy, wisely, hid the blanket in a bush with the intention of recovering it later. Indeed, it would have been difficult to explain its role in case they should meet someone along the way. He helped Elizabeth fix her hair and put her bonnet on, not an easy task, as each time his fingers touched her hair, a new rainstorm of kisses followed. Finally, Elizabeth declared she could do better without his help. They walked together in silence, their fingers entwined; Darcy’s horse following obediently.
“Elizabeth,” he said the moment Longbourn reached their view. “As soon as Mr. Bennet grants me his consent I would like you to think about setting a date for our wedding.”
She looked at him, surprisingly astonished and confused. “A date? I do not know. I thought we would consider it together. How could I possibly decide it alone?”
“Well, we could consider it together, but I am not sure you would approve the date I have in mind.”
“You already have a date in mind, sir? What date is that?” she asked, incredulous.
“Tomorrow,” he answered and she burst out laughing. At her demand of being serious, he replied with perfect soundness. “I am serious, Elizabeth. If it were for my desire only, we would marry tomorrow…or as soon as I could get a special license, which might take a few days. But, as I said, I shall allow you complete liberty in making this decision for us.”
Elizabeth stared at him, still uncertain if he was serious or only spoke in jest.
In front of the Longbourn main door, Mr. Bennet was looking at them with an impenetrable and unreadable expression upon his face.
~/~/~/~ “Mr. Bennet, good morning, sir.” Darcy bowed properly to the master of the house.
“Papa! Good morning… Mr. Darcy and I have just met and he was kind enough to accompany me home…” Elizabeth explained, wondering about her father’s countenance.
“Indeed? It was very kind of him… And such a happy coincidence that you two happened to meet.”
“As a matter of fact it was not quite a coincidence, sir; it was my intention to call on you this morning and ask for a private conference, so I was on my way toward Longbourn…”
“A private conference? With me?” asked Mr. Bennet, his tone sounding more in jest than surprised. Well, then this is an even greater coincidence, sir, as I have long desired to talk privately with you, as well.”
Elizabeth and Darcy exchanged a quick glance, then his attention returned to the master of the house and replied with perfect composure. “A happy coincidence, indeed, sir. I am at your disposal, whenever you whish.”
“Then let this be the right moment for it, Mr. Darcy. If you would be willing to indulge me, let us retire to my library just now.” With a strange look toward his daughter, he turned his back and directed Darcy, who brushed his fingers over Elizabeth’s arm in a reassuring gesture, to his favorite room,.
“Would you care for something to drink, Mr. Darcy,” asked Mr. Bennet as soon as the door closed.
“No thank you, sir; it is very early yet,”
“It is early indeed; we did not even have breakfast, and I suspect neither have you.”
“You are correct, sir; I have not.”
“And you decided to visit me at such an early hour? You must have a very important reason to do so,” Mr. Bennet said, mockery obvious in his voice. “My sister and brother Gardiner spoke very highly of you and seemed to value very much your character as well as your perfect manners, sir. I confess I have not been in your company enough to form my own opinion on this subject.”
Darcy’s countenance changed in a moment –not only the words but Mr. Bennet’s attitude and tone were meant to offend him, he was aware of that. Yet, he was Elizabeth’s beloved father and Darcy wanted his consent and possibly his blessing more than anything else at that moment. With prudence, he decided to guide the conversation toward the goal he wished to achieve.
“I apologize, sir. I realize the hour is highly improper for a visit and in truth…”
“Oh come now, sir, you must not apologize for that! There are many other improper things you have done lately, if we are to speak the truth!”
The elder gentleman's tone turned harsh as he proceeded to cast a cold stare upon his visitor with little civility.
“I am afraid I do not understand your meaning, sir,” replied Darcy, his voice taking the same path from politeness toward open confrontation.
“Mr. Darcy, the matter is of too much importance for me to afford being polite and considerate to your feelings. In true, the offence I might give you means nothing comparing to my daughter’s felicity.”
By that point Darcy felt he had lost most of his patience. “If you are referring to your second daughter, Miss Elizabeth, I assure, sir, that her felicity is more important to me than my own feelings.”
“Truly? Such nice words, sir. But I wonder how it is possible that private meetings on secluded paths, early in the morning, ruining her reputation, could help my daughter’s felicity.”
Darcy’s face darkened instantly, and his self-control deserted him. He was not to be spoken to in that manner, not even by Elizabeth’s father. Yet he had little time to respond.
“I am not as inattentive to my surroundings and those around me as you and others might believe me to be, Mr. Darcy. Last autumn, while my family found great amusement in talking about how you called Elizabeth “barely tolerable” and refused to dance with her, it did not take me long to notice things were not quite so.” At that Darcy paled and, as very rarely in his life, could not find proper words to reply.
“I noticed you during the Netherfield Ball, sir. I can still remember how shocked I was to see you staring at my daughter the entire night, following her with your eyes all over the room and then asking her to dance. I searched your expression during that dance, sir, and can testify it was not the expression of a man who finds a lady ‘barely tolerable’.”
Darcy froze in the middle of the room, his mouth half open in an unsuccessful attempt to formulate an answer.
Mr. Bennet continued, his voice increasingly animated and his tone more harsh, as Darcy would have never suspected from that particular gentleman, “But your look was not the look of a gentleman who admires and wants to enter into an honorable arrangement with the lady in cause either, Mr. Darcy. In fact, I have also noticed that very night the disapproval, I might say the disgust in your expression while you looked at us, the other members of Elizabeth’s family…”
“Mr. Bennet, if you would allow me to explain, sir…” Darcy’s face was white and immovable while his wounded pride fought against remorse for his past behavior.
“Oh, but please do it, sir; please do contradict me. Can you say – upon your word as a gentleman – that I am not correct? Did you not have a certain interest in my daughter last fall? And does that interest have anything to do with a marriage proposal? I confess that, as a good father, I should have said something at that very moment, but I did not. I was rather amused by your sudden change of opinion and not at all worried as I knew how much my Lizzy disliked you and how much delight she found in laughing at your pride and haughtiness.”
Mr. Bennet paused just enough to pour a glass of wine and gulped it instantly.
“But now, things seemed to be frighteningly different, Mr. Darcy! I know my daughter met you in London and spent some time at your property in Derbyshire. What happened to her I can hardly say, but I see that somehow you managed to changer her opinion of you. Even more, her behavior is shockingly altered, and she had no scruples in meeting you privately or in sharing all sorts of improper attention with you at dinner in front of her family. So, since you are in my library now and since you and others seem to consider you an honorable gentleman, I expect you to tell me how far you intend to take this dishonorable behavior toward my daughter? Are you only searching for something diverting, something amusing while you wait for your friend’s wedding, sir? ”
Darcy stared at his host, torn between throwing him an equally offending reply or attempting to explain the truth to him. Mr. Bennet proved to be a very different gentleman in every aspect from what Darcy believed him to be. The fact that Elizabeth’s father managed to recognize all those feelings Darcy had struggled hard to conceal the previous November astonished him exceedingly and, truly, there was little for him to say in his defense.
Therefore, as calmly as he could and forcing himself not to allow his hard feeling to affect his voice, Darcy looked straight at his accuser and said simply:
“Mr. Bennet, yesterday I made an offer of marriage to Miss Elizabeth, and she did me the great honor of accepting me. I came here today to ask for your consent and your blessing.”
A few long, awkward moments passed with the two gentlemen staring searchingly at each other. Mr. Bennet’s countenance changed again, this time to a most distracted one. He seemed unable to remain standing and stretched his hand for a chair. Darcy hurried to assist him. Once Mr. Bennet was seated, his glance returned incredulously toward Darcy.
“You made an offer of marriage to Lizzy?”
“I did, sir.”
“And she accepted you?”
“She did.”
“How can that be? I was certain that she had a true repulsion against you.” Darcy cringed at that but tried to keep his countenance. “And you, sir, how could you made her an offer? I was certain that you had no desire of entering into our family; could I have been so wrong again? What about Lady Cassandra? And you…why did you allow me to continue my offensive speech, sir? Did you find great amusement in my distress, Mr. Darcy?” Mr. Bennet’s tone, more than anything, was sad, sad and bitter, while his glance seemed to bear equal reproach against himself as toward Darcy. Darcy filled a glass of water and handled it to his host.
That moment the door opened and Elizabeth entered the library. She did not need more than an instant to notice things were not going as well as they should. Without waiting for any invitation, she stepped forward daringly, her eyes meeting and locking Darcy’s. He was not truly well either, she could see that.
“Papa…is something wrong?” She approached her father who met her with half a smile.
“I do not know, girl; you tell me: is something wrong? Mr. Darcy applied to me with the most astonishing request. Do you know to what I am referring?”
“I do, Papa.”
“I see… Mr. Darcy, if you would not mind, I would like to talk to my daughter privately for a few minutes.”
Darcy hesitated only a moment. “Of course, sir. I will wait outside.”
“Mr. Darcy, please do not leave,” Elizabeth interjected, drawing both men’s surprised gaze upon her. “Papa, if you want to talk about Mr. Darcy’s request, there is nothing I could say that he cannot hear.” She cast a quick, meaningful glance toward him. Her father’s sadness grew more pronounced.
“Lizzy, can you not oblige your father?”
“I can and I will, Papa, in anything else. But if you have something to inquire about regarding this subject, I would like for Mr. Darcy to witness it.”
“Well, my child, in this case there is nothing to inquire about, after all. You seem to have already decided upon this matter, so my opinion is of little importance. Mr. Darcy,” he said, turning to face the gentleman, “Have no worry that I will refuse my consent. If my daughter is decided to have you, I will not oppose her.”
“Papa…” Elizabeth took a chair and sat near her father. Mr. Bennet did not look very pleased with her gesture. “Papa, I can see you are upset. Please believe me. This is hurting me deeply. Your opinion does matter to me. You know that.”
“Yes, I know that. My opinion does matter to you…in any other case except this, is that not so?” His bitter tone made Elizabeth pale.
“But, Papa…is there any reason that might raise your unfavorable opinion about my marriage to Mr. Darcy?”
“Not exactly, my child… No other reason except the fact that I have always known you to be indifferent, or better said, decidedly against him, and my fear that you might now accept him for all the wrong reasons.”
“Papa…” She leaned toward him so she could whisper in a low voice. Darcy moved
“My child, I know your disposition and I cannot understand what has come upon you now. I imagine you might have been impressed with his fortune while you were in Derbyshire and perhaps you became more sensible to the advantages of such a union now that your sister is soon to be married. But I know you will never be happy if you are not able to respect your husband.”
The distance did not prevent Darcy from hearing everything that was said. The frustration of not being able to assist in the conversation without interfering made him pace the room nervously. It would have been much better for him to be outside the library. More than anything, he was distressed at the thought that Mr. Bennet – who was so close and so dear to Elizabeth – had such a poor opinion of him, and he had no opportunity to clear the misunderstandings.
“Papa, believe me when I say that I am not marrying Mr. Darcy for any wrong reasons – and neither his situation in life nor his possessions have anything to do with my decision. He is truly the best man I have ever known…and Papa…I truly love him.” As her cheeks colored and a smile brightened her eyes, she took her father’s hands and held them lovingly.
Mr. Bennet’ eyes were moist with tears. His heart ached for his favorite daughter and was caught by an icy fear that she – and he – were making a mistake which would bring her nothing but misery, despite the wealth with which she would be surrounded. Yet how could he refuse her and pain her?
“My dearest Lizzy, if this is the case, I have nothing else to do but trust your judgment.” He leaned and kissed her forehead then caressed her hair. “I hope you know what you are doing, my child.”
“Mr. Darcy,” he called for the gentleman who seemed exiled in the corner. Darcy turned and stepped toward them slowly.
“Sir, I will not pretend that my heart is at ease and light and that my doubts about this union are vanished. However, I have little choice. My daughter is decided in your favor, and I have to trust my sister and brother Gardiner who hold you in the highest esteem and consider you a very worthy gentleman. I hope they are not wrong. And, as you will be my daughter’s husband, I hope you will be able to overcome the offenses I directed towards you earlier today.”
The elder man’s expression impressed Darcy deeply. He could see that, despite his apparent acceptance, Mr. Bennet’s suffering was intense, and it was not hard for him to understand how concerned he must be for his daughter’s well-being.
“Mr. Bennet, I certainly cannot remember any offences, sir. We did have a long conversation in which you expressed some concerns regarding Miss Elizabeth, and let me assure you that this is my chief concern, as well. Making her happy is the most important thing to me, sir, and I dare say in time I will convince you of that.”
“Well…we shall see…and now you may go. I am certain you two have long desired to escape my boring company. I am sure you are more than willing to go for a stroll in the garden or such, and most likely Mr. Bingley will appear shortly. But, before that, you should go and eat something…and Lizzy…tell your mother to send me a tray in here. I am in no disposition for a real breakfast.”
He rose from his seat and moved to the window with his back to them in a dismissive gesture. Elizabeth and Darcy exchanged a quick glance, then she gently took his arm and directed him toward the door. But he stopped.
“In fact, if I am not asking too much, I would rather remain with you a little longer, Mr. Bennet. There are still some things I would like to discuss with you…and I am in no real disposition for breakfast, either.”
Mr. Bennet turned to him instantly. “You want to talk to me more? Now?”
“Yes, sir, if you would not mind.”
“Is it something urgent? Can it not wait? I was certain you were eager to exchange my company for Elizabeth’s. Was I wrong…again?”
Darcy felt a wave of warmth over his face. No, Mr. Bennet was not wrong; he surely would like to be in Elizabeth’s company…but he had something important to finish first.
“It is a matter of some urgency, sir, and I dare say we should clarify it with no delay.”
Mr. Bennet shrugged with an intriguing gesture of invitation. Elizabeth looked at him somewhat worried, but Darcy smiled at her,= reassuringly, and she exited the library with a mention that she would take care of having some food sent to them.
“Mr. Bennet, I wanted to speak to you privately for a few minutes, because there are still many unsettled things between us – and any misunderstanding would affect Miss Elizabeth greatly. I cannot allow that.”
“Well, sir, I doubt any more clarification is possible for one day, but if you have anything to say I will listen.” He took his seat again, leaning against the chair back, and looked at Darcy inquiringly. That was a glance Darcy finally recognized.
He felt more uncomfortable than ever before, and the notion of humbling himself threw him into deep torment. But it was a price he had to pay for Elizabeth’s tranquility.
“Mr. Bennet, I am not a man to openly speak of my private affairs and even less of my feelings. But now it cannot be avoided. Everything you have said before, sir, regarding my opinion about Miss Elizabeth last fall…was not wrong.”
The effect of his words upon Mr. Bennet was obvious, yet that only increased his uneasiness.
“You were also correct in assuming that I had no intention of making an offer of marriage to Miss Elizabeth at that time. For many years I have considered it was my duty to choose a lady with the same situation in life as my own to became the mistress of my estate…and your family’s situation was…different.” He looked at Mr. Bennet to see how he was taking this confession but could not read much in his face.
“However, Mr. Bennet, in one aspect you have been utterly and completely wrong: never, not for a second were my intentions toward Miss Elizabeth anything but honorable! I assure you, sir, that more than anything I was bewitched by the liveliness of her mind, her wit and her uncommon understanding. I knew her behavior was beyond reproach, and I could not have dared to think otherwise. Anything dishonorable regarding Miss Elizabeth was far away from my mind at that time and at any time. Since I was not considering making her an offer, I was certain that my admiration would remain without an object as soon as I left Hertfordshire and that I would never see her again.”
Mr. Bennet listened to the man in front of him with equal attention and astonishment. Seeing a man so private, so restrained making such a declaration involving his most secret thoughts was hard to believe. Even more, the notion that he insisted on making him that declaration though he could have simply avoided it in the first place, did not go unnoticed by Mr. Bennet. Listening to him and watching his face while he spoke, Mr. Bennet never doubted Darcy’s words for a moment.
“I must have been too rushed in judging you regarding this aspect, Mr. Darcy. However, since we have reached this point, I cannot help but wonder how it happened that your opinion about marriage and the necessary wealth of your future wife changed so dramatically?”
“Well, it happened one day last April, when I was properly humbled and shown how insufficient were all my pretensions to please a woman worthy of being pleased.”
Mr. Bennet’s quizzical look made Darcy smile bitterly, while the memories of those moments and the mortifications of sharing them with his future father-in-law caused greater distress.
“It was the day I presented myself to Miss Bennet and asked – rather demanded – her to accept my offer of marriage. I came to her without a doubt of my reception, and her answer was my most painful yet so well-deserved punishment.”
Mr. Bennet’s shock made him abruptly stand while he frowned, staring at his visitor in utter disbelief. “You made Lizzy an offer last April? But last April she was in Kent.”
“You are correct, sir; I was visiting my aunt at Rosings.”
“And she refused you?”
“She did, sir, and she was correct to do so.”
“And…you asked her again?”
“I did, sir, but not before I was certain I would succeed in improving her opinion of me. You see, sir, I unexpectedly met Miss Elizabeth and Mrs. Gardiner in London in June and…”
For more than half an hour Darcy revealed the entire history to a deeply shocked and utterly astonished Mr. Bennet. When he reached the part of the narration concerning Lydia’s elopement, he tried to nonchalantly pass over those moments, but Mr. Bennet did not allow him to escape easily. Proving his perception once again, Mr. Bennet managed to extract from Darcy enough details regarding his involvement in the discovery of the two fugitives to suspect he had a certain part in the financial arrangements, too. At that point, Darcy suddenly became defensive and refused to debate the subject further, abruptly continuing with the reasons he returned to Hertfordshire. Mr. Bennet’s eyebrow remained arched in wonder.
“So you see, sir,” concluded Darcy, “I am certain, after all those months, and for these reasons that Miss Elizabeth did not accept my second proposal for the wrong reasons.”
Mr. Bennet remained speechless for a time. The man in front of him was someone he was just beginning to know and understand, yet someone who would soon take his beloved daughter from him. After such a confession, he certainly was someone who deserved more consideration than he, the father of the bride, had given him so far. He finally realized he owed Mr. Darcy an apology. In fact he was certain he owed Mr. Darcy more than he would ever be able to repay.
“Mr. Darcy, I thank you for your generosity in confessing to me all those things. I imagine how difficult that must have been for you, and I know you did it to put my worries aside. Your effort is not unappreciated, sir.”
“If I managed to clarify some misunderstandings and make it easier for us to collaborate for Elizabeth’s happiness and tranquility, then that is all the reward I need, sir.”
“Then you may consider yourself rewarded. I have no misunderstandings left, sir, and feel I need to apologize again for my very harsh words…”
Darcy insisted there was no reason to apologize, and Mr. Bennet ceased to offer them any longer; instead, he said Mr. Gardiner expressed great admiration for Pemberley’s library and the streams and lakes – and that became the next subject of conversation. Of course, Darcy assured him there would be no need for a formal invitation and that he would be more then welcome at Pemberley any time.
When Elizabeth returned, bringing a tray of food for them, she could sense everything was changed. The expression on both gentlemen’s faces had softened when she entered, and she smiled at them: the two men who were the dearest to her heart.
“Lizzy dearest, have you informed your mother about your engagement yet,” asked Mr. Bennet, trying to put aside all the tension between them. “Considering the silence in the house, I would guess not?”
“No, I have not,” Elizabeth answered while she served them tea and coffee. Darcy hurried to help her with the cups. Mr. Bennet smiled with satisfaction.
“In fact, Papa, I was thinking… Mr. Darcy and I were talking about that…considering that Jane and Mr. Bingley just announced their engagement, we should keep ours secret a few more days… I mean, now that you given us your consent.”
“Ah, I see,” smiled Mr. Bennet with his well-known teasing tone. “So you want to keep your fiancé away from your mother’s enthusiasm for a little longer; so now that I have given you my consent you could feel engaged without sharing it with the others for some time… Hmm, Lizzy, this is not fair of you – to let only poor Jane and Mr. Bingley be the recipients of your mother’s loudly expressed satisfaction.”
Elizabeth blushed, and Darcy smiled to hide his embarrassment trying to think of something else to say.
“Well then, let it be as you want,” Mr. Bennet added. “Considering I gave Mr. Bingley not the least bit of the hard time I gave to Mr. Darcy when he applied for my consent, it is only just that he suffers a little more in other aspects. You may announce your engagement whenever you please. Just try to do it when I am not in the same room with your mama, and preferably not during dinner. Promise me this, will you? And let me know when you decide what date to have your wedding, so I play my part to accompany you to the altar, Lizzy.”
He continued to tease them both a little longer, until they finished eating and having their coffee. Mr. Bennet seemed to find more and more delight in conversing with Mr. Darcy. An hour later, when Mr. Bingley arrived to invite them all to Netherfield for dinner, the discussion in the library was still very animated.
Mrs. Bennet was too busy talking with Mr. Bingley about the ball which was fixed in two weeks time to even wonder what Mr. Darcy was doing in private conference with her husband for more than a couple of hours. Her delight and hope grew even more when Mr. Bingley informed her that he and Lady Cassandra made a list of names for invitations. He had brought it to Jane for approval. On the list Mrs. Bennet could see many titled names, and some of them were certainly gentlemen and certainly unmarried, including Mr. Darcy’s cousin, Colonel Fitzwilliam. What a fortunate situation for her other daughters! It was possible for even that stubborn Lizzy to find a suitor. Although Mrs. Bennet thought she would deserve to end an old maid after she refused Mr. Collins. It was not that Mrs. Bennet did not love her second daughter, but truly – not being such a beauty as Jane and possessing such a sharp tongue and such a wild spirit – could she expect to make as good a match as her dearest Jane. Really, Jane could not have been so beautiful for nothing. Five thousand a year!
~/~/~/~ Caroline Bingley had just woken up when she received her sister’s letter, sent by express. She read it a few times then threw it on her bed and rang for her maid. So, stupid Charles let himself get trapped by that Jane Bennet. What a fool! And now Louisa demanded her to urgently return to Netherfield. Why on earth did Louisa need her? Surely there was nothing to do about that engagement once it was made public. She did not want to leave London! What was there for her to do in Hertfordshire? To bear the impertinence of Lady Cassandra? To be annoyed by that insupportable chit, Eliza Bennet?
How could she abandon the select and most elegant company of Lady Sophia, Lady Margaret and Lady Alberta? And, most of all, how could she leave the presence of Lord Markham, the most charming gentleman she could ever imagine? Mr. Darcy was nothing compared to Lord Markham, neither in wealth, charm nor politeness. Lord Markham was everything that Caroline ever dreamed of in a gentleman – everything she had ever dreamed of in a suitor. Because yes, he was her suitor, she had no doubts about that. He was ever so kind to her, always seeking her company, pretending to be interested in her relatives, in Netherfield, even in Darcy, Lady Cassandra and those boring Bennets.
To Caroline’s utter satisfaction, neither Lord Markham nor Lady Sophia seemed to hold Lady Cassandra in high esteem – and why would they? That woman was nothing but pure impertinence and an abominable sense of independence.
Thinking of that fresh news, Caroline noticed that she was not as bothered by them as she thought she would be. So Charles will marry Jane Bennet…that was it! Her real and true concern was the reaction of her new friends and especially of Lord Markham. Would that unfortunate alliance diminish her chances of happiness? Would Lord Markham consider her future relative’s low connection unworthy of him? Cold chills spread down her spine as she pondered this. If that were the case, she would never forgive Charles for ruining her brilliant future. Lady Markham – how lovely that sounds, indeed!
She hurried to prepare herself. Once more, she was invited to tea at Lady Sophia’s – the third time in a week – and Lord Markham would be there, too. She would be careful to inform them about her brother’s engagement – as favorably as she could – before they read the announcements in the paper. She would handle that situation to her advantage, yes she would. She was a very clever woman; everybody said so. The future Lady Markham!
*** Lady Cassandra remained in a corner of the drawing room, looking around her attentively. Dinner was over, and the gentlemen separated from the ladies for less than a quarter of an hour. Of course, two of them were very eager to spend as much time as possible with the ladies of their hearts. Lady Cassandra smiled at that choice of words. “Lady of his heart” sounded so suited for Charles Bingley yet so uncharacteristic for Darcy. It was another proof – as if she needed one more – of how utterly and completely love could change a person.
Earlier that day, when he returned from Longbourn, Darcy shared with her the news of his engagement with such enthusiasm that she could not help laughing at him. He looked half a silly schoolboy, half a very satisfied tomcat; she told him that and he did not even protest. He only insisted that their engagement was still kept secret and only Mr. Bennet and Georgiana had been informed. Lady Cassandra laughed again – she was certain that an understanding occurred between them even from the previous day but she chose to respect their wishes and did not insist upon the matter.
“Secret indeed,” she smiled to herself. It was enough to look at both Darcy and Elizabeth to see they were betraying their arrangement with every fiber of their bodies, with every gesture, every word, and every stolen glance. But she promised to keep their secret.
Her eyes were drawn toward Elizabeth and Jane Bennet – such an astonishing difference between them. Not by far such a classic beauty as her sister, Elizabeth Bennet looked more beautiful in a lively, joyful, vivid way. They were both happy, that was obvious, but while Jane Bennet was smiling toward her fiancé, Elizabeth Bennet was laughing, not loudly, but with her eyes and her whole being – she was laughing at her betrothed, she was laughing at life itself. Her happiness was palpable, and the bond between her and Darcy – although not revealed yet – was touchable. Bound to each other, in more than one aspect. The way they searched for each other’s eyes, the way she blushed every time their gazes meet, the way Darcy stared at her… No, they certainly could not keep their engagement secret for long!
Lady Cassandra turned her attention toward Charles Bingley – the most amiable and kind Charles. He was so loud in expressing his joy, so eager to please everybody and especially Jane! He talked of nothing else but the engagement and the ball – the ball for which he had asked her opinion to complete the list of the guests.
The Ball where David Fitzwilliam will also attend, no doubt about that. Lady Cassandra had thought about that a million times that day since she had seen his name on the top of the list. Although she hated herself for it, she had to admit she was anxious and desirous to see him again. She felt helpless and defeated – again.