“I think she is lovely,” Georgiana interrupted, her heart pounding so loudly she was sure it could be heard at Longbourn. The attention of the entire party turned immediately in response to this novel behavior on her part. Darcy looked at her as if she had suddenly turned into a stranger, though not in a displeased way.
Miss Bingley recovered quickly, and, though she should have recognized that she was not recommending herself to either Darcy or Georgiana, angry people are not always wise. She continued, “I remember, when we first knew her, how amazed we all were to find that she was a reputed beauty; and I particularly recollect your saying one night, Mr. Darcy, after they had been dining at Netherfield, ‘She a beauty! I should as soon call her mother a wit.’ But afterwards she seemed to improve on you, I believe.”
Georgiana’s eyes turned on her brother full of shocked reproach, hardly able to credit he could have said such a thing, but when he did not deny it, she said, astonished by her daring, “Miss Bingley, Elizabeth is a dear friend of mine, and I will thank you not to speak of her in such a way in my presence. I find her pleasant, witty, generous, and altogether too well-bred to make these kind of derogatory comments.” As soon as the words stopped pouring out of her mouth, she realized she had gone too far. With a stricken look, she whispered a ‘good night’ to the room in general and turned and fled.
Bingley recovered first. “Well, Darcy, your little sister is growing up! You are going to have your hands full with her soon.”
“I am indeed,” said Darcy thoughtfully.
Miss Bingley could not stop herself. “Judging from her behavior, I cannot say that I believe Miss Elizabeth Bennet is an altogether good influence on Georgiana, Mr. Darcy.”
“Quite the contrary,” he said with a smile, thinking of how much he would enjoy telling an edited version of this tale to Elizabeth. “I believe she is just what Georgiana needs.” He then went away, and Miss Bingley was left to all the satisfaction of having forced him to say what gave no one any pain but herself.
Four
There was no response when Darcy knocked at the door of Georgiana’s room. Suspecting that she was hiding, he said, “Georgiana, it is William. I know you are in there; please open the door.” A moment later his sister appeared and let him into her sitting room. She did not meet his eyes, and looked as if she was expecting a scolding.
“I wanted to see if you were well; you looked upset when you left,” he said awkwardly.
“I am well,” she responded quietly. “Are you angry with me?”
“Far from it. I was proud of you for speaking up to Miss Bingley.”
She did not reply. Darcy shifted in his chair uncomfortably, wondering what in the world to say to her. Elizabeth would know, he thought, and indulged in a brief fantasy of riding to Longbourn and telling Elizabeth he needed her to talk to Georgiana for him. Then, while he was bringing her back, he would take her in his arms and show her all the passion that he had been hiding. He pushed those thoughts away firmly.
“Why did you not say anything when she was being so horrible about Elizabeth?”
Darcy sighed. “That is a perfectly reasonable question. I imagine I would have said something sooner or later, but I have developed a tolerance Miss Bingley’s remarks, and I pay little attention to them. Also, the more jealous Miss Bingley becomes of my regard for Miss Bennet, the more offensively she treats her, so I protect her by saying nothing.”
“I never thought about that part. But did you really say that horrible thing about Elizabeth and her mother?”
He swore to himself that if he ever managed to convince Elizabeth to marry him, she would have to handle all the serious conversations with Georgiana. She had never before questioned his behavior, and certainly not in this manner. “Yes, I did, or something much like it. I have said a great many ill-judged things in my life that I regret, and that would be high on the list.”
Georgiana bit her lip, wondering if she truly dared to ask the question she most wanted the answer to. “Are you going to propose to Elizabeth?”
Darcy was back on solid ground now. “Miss Bennet and I are just friends.”
“There is no need to treat me like a child. I have seen how you look at her.”
“This is a private matter, Georgiana,” he said in a voice that declared the subject closed.
Georgiana subsided, not yet ready to openly defy him. Perhaps she would ask Elizabeth.
* * *
Darcy could not recall any instance in which he was as annoyed with his sister as he was when she began Elizabeth’s next visit by announcing that she was looking forward to visiting with Elizabeth alone, and promptly took her off to her rooms. He tried to console himself with the knowledge that he would have been unable to converse with her in private in any case, much less follow up on the delightful finish to their recent day together, but he was at the point of feeling such a degree of deprivation of her company that his irritation remained unchanged. It had been over a week since the day she had kissed him, and he had not been one minute alone with her since. It was enough to drive a man to distraction, or at least to contemplate kidnapping.
Elizabeth gave him a sympathetic glance in response to his obvious disgruntlement before she and Georgiana went out, but it provided little comfort. Darcy was obsessed with the many things he was denied at the moment: he longed for time alone with Elizabeth, he wanted the opportunity to kiss her again, he needed to know what she was feeling about him, and above all, he desired her love. He hated being so mystified by the state of her regard for him; she obviously felt something, but how much was attraction and how much was affection baffled him. At times, he thought he detected her concern for him, but then again, she never seemed particularly pleased to see him, and was more likely to greet Bingley or Georgiana with a warm smile than him. He had seen desire in her eyes, but not a look of tenderness or affection. It was ironic; when he proposed to her in Kent, he had not been particularly concerned about whether she cared about him—as long as she was willing to marry him, the reason was unimportant. Now it was the caring that concerned him most, and it would be a bitter ending indeed to win her for any reason but her love. He shook his head and decided that if he could not be with Elizabeth, he might as well be productive, and retreated to the room he was using as his study to tackle the enormous pile of papers his steward had sent him.
Elizabeth was not in the least confused about how Darcy was feeling at the moment, since he had done an abysmal job of hiding his frustration. She was inclined to sympathize, as she had missed his company as well, but she was also amused at Georgiana’s unusual assertiveness, and curious as to why she would not want Darcy present, especially as she was of the opinion that Georgiana wanted to throw the two of them together as much as possible. She suspected Georgiana wished to confide in her, but that was far from the truth.
Georgiana, tired of being left in the dark, was in fact preparing to interrogate Elizabeth, and her only uncertainty was how direct to be about her intentions. She eventually elected to be straightforward, mostly out of doubt in her own ability to be subtle, but also feeling that this might suit Elizabeth better. She felt it best, though, to start with the relatively simple questions. “Have you thought any further about coming to Pemberley?”
Elizabeth sighed. Every time she saw Georgiana, this subject arose again. Darcy, on the other hand, carefully avoided any mention of Pemberley with her. “There truly is nothing for me to think about, since, as I have said, the decision is not mine.”
“It seems as if you would prefer not to visit us,” she said somewhat plaintively.
“Georgiana, I would be delighted to visit you, but this particular visit is problematic. You have never met my aunt and uncle, and they move in very different circles than you. I think it would be preferable if we merely called on you.”
“I would like to meet them, and I am certain they would be more congenial company than Miss Bingley and the Hursts!”
“I confess that I would think t
hem so, but that hardly matters.”
“Of course it does! I feel certain that William would enjoy their company as well.” She paused, then asked, “May I ask if you are promised to someone else?”
Elizabeth looked at her in great surprise. “No, I am not promised to anyone. Why do you ask?”
“It was just a thought. When my cousin, Colonel Fitzwilliam, wrote to me last, he said I should tell you the story of my parents’ courtship, and that made me wonder, because my mother had been promised to another man.”
“And what, pray, is the story of their courtship?” Elizabeth wondered what role the colonel might be playing, and whether he was speaking on Darcy’s behalf or his own.
“Well, I do not know all the details, because everyone stopped talking about it after my mother died, and it is much more amusing when my uncle tells it. So you should really ask William, or Richard, or my uncle.”
“But you must know the outlines of the story, at least.”
“Oh, yes. Well, when my father met my mother, he announced that he was going to marry her, and he proposed to her every day for a long time, and then somehow it was settled with her betrothed to end the engagement. It was more complicated than that, but as I said, I do not know the details.”
“An interesting tale,” said Elizabeth, amused by what she assumed to be the moral of the story regarding the persistence of men of the Darcy family. “Do you remember your mother well?”
“Only a little; I was five when she died, and she was ill all my life, or at least never well. She never completely recovered from my birth. She and William were close, though; it was hard for him when she died, I think.”
“It must have been hard for all of you.”
“I hardly understood what was happening, but I know that my father was devastated. He and William had some problems after that.”
“Oh?” Elizabeth found that she was very interested in hearing about Darcy’s earlier years.
“As I understand it, my father had a difficult time being around William for a while, because he reminded him so much of our mother. And then there was… a person, a favorite of my father’s, who tried to turn him against William for his own benefit. After that there was never the same trust between them, which grieved William, who wanted very much to please him. I believe that it was a little better at the end, when my father was dying, and William came home to take over the management of the estate, and he could see how serious William was about it.” Georgiana risked a glance at Elizabeth, wondering what she thought of this.
“I imagine he would be very serious about it.”
“Oh, yes, and after he died, William had no time for anything but managing Pemberley for the longest time. There had been some mismanagement in the last year of my father’s life, after his steward had died, and of course William had so much to learn. I remember that whenever I wanted to see him, he would either be out on the estate or buried behind a huge pile of paper in the study. But he always found time for me, anyway.”
“An ideal elder brother.”
“Oh, yes! There could not be a better one. Are you in love with him?”
Elizabeth could not help smiling at the abruptness and earnestness of the question. It reminded her of Darcy’s behavior, but what seemed demanding in him was more endearing in his sister. “That is a very personal question,” she said gently.
Georgiana looked crestfallen. “I apologize. I… it is so frustrating watching William, and not knowing what is happening, or why he doesn’t just propose to you… I am sorry, I should not have said that either.”
“It sounds as if you need to be asking him these questions, not me.”
Georgiana made a face. “Yes, and then he starts acting as if I were still eleven years old, and tells me that you are just friends in his ‘don’t ask any more questions’ voice. And I think that he is the reason you are avoiding coming to Pemberley, though I am at a loss as to why.”
Elizabeth could not help laughing at this characterization, which seemed very apt to her. She could well imagine how frustrating it must be for Georgiana—even more frustrating than Georgiana’s persistence on the question of Pemberley was becoming. “Your brother and I are both strong-willed, and this means we have a number of difficulties to work out between us before we could even begin to discuss marriage. We are also prone to rather explosive and hurtful quarreling. So you must not be too hard on him for not proposing; I am sure that he wishes it were that simple.”
“I do not see why he has to make everything so complicated!” she said petulantly.
Elizabeth laughed, feeling rather sorry for Darcy if his sister was faulting him for failing to propose to her. “Georgiana, dearest, did it ever occur to you that I might be the one who is creating difficulties?”
“You?” Georgiana said in disbelief. “Why in the world would you not want to marry him? There is no better man to be found anywhere!”
“Even if he still treats you like a child?” Elizabeth said with a smile.
“Elizabeth! That is not what I meant!”
“Well, as it happens, I do not like being treated like a child either. But have patience with us, my dear, and try not to be too hard on your brother.”
A knock came at the door, and in response to Georgiana’s call to enter, the door opened to reveal a roguishly determined-looking Darcy. “Miss Bennet, I have come to abduct you.”
“To abduct me! Where, pray tell, are you planning to take me, sir?”
“Almost anywhere will do,” responded Darcy in a mock growl.
“I have always wanted to see Italy,” Elizabeth said thoughtfully.
“‘Tempt not a desperate man,’ Miss Bennet.”
“‘Beware of desp’rate steps,’ Mr. Darcy!”
Darcy gave a wicked smile. “‘Peace! I will stop thy mouth.’”
Elizabeth opened her mouth to protest the obvious conclusion, but Darcy was too quick for her, and bent to press a firm kiss on her lips. Astonished at this behavior in front of his sister, Elizabeth fixed a stare on him that had little effect on his very satisfied look. “‘O, what men dare do!’” she retorted.
“Remember, Miss Bennet, that I am desperate.” He took her by the hand and tugged her toward the door. “Please excuse us, Georgiana,” he said to his stunned sister.
Elizabeth, amused by this unexpectedly playful and unrestrained side of him, followed cooperatively if not without apprehension of being observed. Fortunately, he managed to lead her as far as his study without interruption, and then released her only to close the door behind them and lock it. When he turned to face her, she allowed a raised eyebrow and a severely doubtful look to speak for her.
Darcy had the grace to look slightly guilty, and stood away from the door. “You are welcome to leave whenever you wish, Miss Bennet; but this house is full of people who seem determined to keep us apart, and I do not want to be interrupted.” He had not in fact planned beyond this point when the thought had occurred to him that his initial idea of kidnapping had some merit.
“Well, Mr. Darcy,” said Elizabeth, a smile lurking about her lips, “what is it that you want? No, wait, I withdraw that question; I shall ask instead whether there is a particular purpose to this abduction.”
“A purpose to this abduction? Perhaps I should start instead with your first question, which addressed what I want,” he said, fully aware that this was the first time he had been alone with her in a week, and of how simple it would be for him to take her into his arms, and damn the risk of being caught.
Elizabeth recognized the look in his eyes, and her own reaction was enough to give her doubts about the wisdom being behind a closed door with him. She was sufficiently sensitive to her desires after so long without his touch to respond to no more than a look, and realized the necessity of a distraction.
“I had an enlightening visit with your sister,” she said with a playful smile. “Since Georgiana usually says so little, I had not realized that, when she chooses, she can be almost a
s persistent as certain of her relations.”
“That she can,” he said, his eyes hungrily devouring her. “And what was she after today?”
“Among other things, she is persisting in her invitations to Pemberley.” She was beginning to find it difficult to think about anything apart from her body’s treacherous demands for his touch, her desire to run her fingers through his hair and find his lips with her own. In an effort to clear her mind, she walked to the window and stood looking out. Having her back to him was an improvement; she still felt tingly all over, but at least she could concentrate. “It is becoming difficult to continue to decline without risking hurting her feelings.”
“Then why not accept the invitation?” he asked.
Her heart began to pound as she heard him moving closer. “Even if I had the right to make such plans, which I do not, I have doubts about the wisdom of bringing my aunt and uncle to Pemberley, as I have no desire to have my relatives be an embarrassment to you. Given that you have been silent on the subject of the visit, I suspect that you have reservations as well.”
“You would be far from correct in that supposition. I have strong feelings on the subject, and they are not reservations.”
“I am aware that such a visit would excite the scorn of many of those in your social circle, and your relatives would be appalled.” She could feel him close behind her, and she was beginning to find it difficult to breathe.
Unable to resist temptation, he put his hand on her shoulder. The nearness of his fingers to the uncovered skin of her neck made him almost dizzy. “If they feel that way, they are no loss to me.” Images of Elizabeth at Pemberley led him to those possessive and passionate feelings he tried so hard to keep in check—images of her face across the table from him, the warmth and softness of her in his arms as he made love to her, of her lying in his bed, her dark hair spread across the pillow, her inviting smile for him alone. His hand almost involuntarily slid the short distance across the neckline of her dress to caress the skin of her shoulder. She was even softer than he had imagined.