Elizabeth’s astonishment at this recounting was great, and left her briefly speechless. Finally she asked, “But why did he not want me to know?”

  “My dear, as I understand it, he was in hopes of winning your affections, and was concerned that if you knew of his role in this, you might accept him out of a sense of obligation, which was not his desire. I gather this is no longer a concern.”

  Elizabeth hardly knew what to think. That Darcy would have taken on himself all the trouble and mortification attendant on finding Wickham and Lydia, that he would agree to meet, reason with, persuade, and finally bribe, the man whom he always most wished to avoid, and whose very name it was punishment to him to pronounce—despite her high opinion of him, this went far beyond what she could have expected.

  She had many more questions for her aunt, and the next hour was spent in conversation.

  ***

  The following day Elizabeth, knowing her chances of finding time alone with Darcy were slim, made a point of capturing him as soon as he arrived at Longbourn with Bingley, who was newly arrived at Netherfield. Drawing him off into the dining room, she took some time expressing her appreciation for all that he had done for Lydia and her pride in his actions. Darcy, who was less than comfortable with discussing the matter, made a concerted effort to change the subject, and eventually managed to work Elizabeth around to discussing wedding plans.

  They resolved it would be best not to announce a date for their wedding until after Jane and Bingley’s was past, to avoid any explanation that might ruin Jane’s honeymoon surprise. However, it seemed prudent to tell a few select people whose plans would be affected by their idea, and so Mr. Bennet, Georgiana, Bingley, and the Gardiners were informed. Mr. Bennet was not best pleased with the plan, since he was by no means ready to lose Elizabeth quite so soon, but he resolved to hold his peace after one look at Darcy’s face when he suggested a delay.

  Elizabeth did not in fact get a moment alone with Darcy until she saw him out of Longbourn when he prepared to depart that evening. Darcy, who had clearly been waiting for this opportunity the entire day, lost no time in finding a shadowy and secluded spot by the gate where he could pull her into his arms.

  “Promise me you will reserve tomorrow afternoon for my exclusive use, or I will not be responsible for the consequences!” he whispered, feathering kisses behind her ear and down her neck.

  “With or without chaperones?” asked Elizabeth, with what she thought to be remarkable aplomb given the sensations he was inducing in her.

  “We seem to be rather troublesome for our chaperones. Perhaps we should not force anyone to struggle through the experience.” He turned his attention to her hairline.

  “You are very charitable, Mr. Darcy.” Their mouths met in a hungry kiss that Elizabeth had been longing for all day.

  When he released her, she leaned back against the wall and looked up at him. Darcy was breathing hard. “If you were charitable, Miss Bennet, you would marry me tomorrow,” he said.

  She pretended to consider the idea. “No, I’m afraid not. We would have to stay at Netherfield until Jane’s wedding, and I do not plan to spend my wedding night as a guest in someone else’s home.”

  She felt him stop breathing for a moment. He stepped toward her, and trapping her against the wall by placing his hands on either side of her, he said, “Miss Bennet, this is friendly advice which you can accept or disregard as you choose, but I would suggest that when you are alone in the dark with a man who is quite violently in love with you, it would be advisable to avoid mention of your wedding night.”

  She stood on her toes and proceeded to brush her lips against his unyielding ones tantalizingly until he could deny himself no longer and kissed her deeply. After a moment, she leaned back and said quite deliberately, “After all, I want you all to myself on our wedding night.”

  Darcy’s hands gripped her arms tightly, but Elizabeth did not notice the discomfort. “I think you should go back to the house, Miss Bennet,” he said with tight control.

  She raised an eyebrow. “I fear that will not be possible, sir.”

  “Why is that?”

  She glanced down at his hands with an amused smile. “Because you are not allowing me to, Mr. Darcy.”

  “Ah,” he said, sounding surprised. “What a good idea of mine.” He leaned forward, effectively pinning her against the wall, and proceeded to explore her mouth with a thoroughness and unrestrained passion that left her breathless. The exquisite sensation of his body against hers was augmented by the stirring feelings caused by his hands wandering down her arms and into the sensitive reaches of her back, caressing and demanding at the same time.

  The temptation to touch him was more than she could control. She allowed her hands to explore the firm muscles of his shoulders, where, as if unsatisfied, they seemed to travel of their own accord inside the reaches of his coat and around his neck. The exhilarating feeling of his strength through nothing more than the thin cloth of his shirt left her weak.

  “Elizabeth,” he groaned. “What are you trying to do to me?” His kisses grew even more demanding as he pressed her closer to him.

  Brought back to herself by his words, she drew her hands away, and removed temptation by concealing her face in his shoulder. He buried his face in her hair as he worked to regain control. “You seem to have moved from playing with fire to sitting on the volcano, my love,” he said softly. “Please remember I am only too human.”

  “As I am well aware,” she replied. “But you tempted me first, sir, by suggesting I might disregard your warning. I do not think I will believe you if you tell me that you were not hoping that I would say something provocative!”

  “Caught again!” he exclaimed. “You are a dangerous woman, Miss Bennet.” He stepped back from her and looked at her critically. “I would add that if you really do not wish to be married tomorrow, I suggest that you had best not meet your family until you have had a chance to repair some damage.” He touched her hair lightly.

  “I shall say good night then.”

  “Until tomorrow,” he responded. Giving her one last look, he paused to trace his finger lightly along her collarbone. “I hope you sleep better than I shall!” he said, and then was gone.

  ***

  Two nights later, a large party assembled at Netherfield for the benefit of the many out-of-town guests arriving for the wedding. A number of neighborhood families were invited as well, including the Lucases and the Philips. Darcy chose to wait upstairs until the Bennets arrived along with Georgiana, who had surprised no one by choosing to remain at Longbourn until her return to town. He preferred to limit his exposure to the crowded scene, a sentiment which was reinforced by the knowledge Miss Bingley had been trying to corner him on his own ever since her arrival earlier that day. Finally the carriage he had been awaiting appeared, and his aspect changed to one of smiling anticipation.

  He met the party at the door, offering one arm to Elizabeth and the other to Georgiana, who had received special permission to attend the gathering although she was not officially “out.” Her excitement at the occasion was visible, contrasting with her brother who was quite ready to quit the assembly before he had even entered, and she was clearly more interested in enjoying the occasion with her friends than with her sedate older brother.

  Darcy and Elizabeth drew a certain amount of attention from members of the assemblage due to the news of their engagement, and were thus required to circulate more than they might have chosen to otherwise. At one point, Darcy was drawn off by Bingley to converse with some mutual friends, and Elizabeth took the opportunity to search out Georgiana. She found her with Kitty, Mary, and some of their Meryton friends, in close conversation, which Elizabeth, glad to see her enjoying herself, chose not to interrupt. As she was returning to the main group, she chanced to hear her name spoken in a separate conversation by a familiar voice.

  “Miss Eliza Bennet? A disappointment, to be sure, but not a fatal one.” Miss Bingley’s aut
ocratic voice came clearly from the next room.

  “You must be quite angry that she managed to allure him away from you,” responded an unknown voice.

  “I am not best pleased to lose Mr. Darcy’s favor, it is true, but as for Miss Eliza, I feel mostly pity for the poor thing.”

  “Why would you pity her? She has made a brilliant match for herself—one has to wonder how she did it.”

  Miss Bingley sniffed. “I pity her because he will make her miserable. Oh, right now he is completely infatuated with the little chit, and will do absolutely anything to please her, even to the point of tolerating her abominable family. But will that be the case when the infatuation wears off? You know his pride—he may submerge it, but it will never disappear, and when he truly realizes what he has done, what sort of woman he has tied himself to, for whom he has been cut off by family and no doubt part of the ton, whom he has chosen to be a model for his sister—what will be the result then? She will be an embarrassment to him, and were her motives solely mercenary, this would no doubt be tolerable enough to her, but the poor thing clearly fancies herself in love with him. Indeed, I pity her for what will happen then, although a more sensible woman would have foreseen it and kept to her own level of society.”

  Elizabeth had overheard more than enough, and withdrew the way she had come to avoid detection. Her initial reaction was fury, but she soon converted herself back to humor as she realized that Miss Bingley’s jealousy would not be able to let her engagement pass without any attempt at sabotage. There was bound to be talk of this sort when a woman of little fortune married a man of his wealth, and she needed to inure herself to the innuendoes. She reminded herself that, for all the relative brevity of their relationship, she knew Darcy far better than Miss Bingley did, and she knew the changes in his character were real ones. With that, she determined to seek him out again, and eventually found him cloistered in the library.

  She smiled warmly at him. “Hiding away, my dearest?”

  “Never from you.” He stood, and, taking her hands in his, allowed his lips to brush lightly against hers. “Perhaps I was only waiting for you to find me so I might steal a few moments of your company to myself. Have I told you how very lovely you look tonight?”

  “If you have, I give you permission to repeat yourself.”

  “As long as I may repeat this part as well.” He leaned to kiss her again, with more passion this time. Elizabeth slid her arms around his neck and allowed herself to enjoy his kisses for several minutes, and then murmured, “Sir, we shall be missed.”

  “Let them miss us, then.”

  Elizabeth gave him a look which he could not misinterpret.

  Darcy sighed. “Once more unto the breach, then, my love?” he said, offering her his arm.

  They returned in time to hear Mary and Georgiana take a turn at the pianoforte playing their newly learned Mozart duet, which was indeed lovely and received far warmer applause than Mary’s usual performances. Both performers, flushed with pleasure, were immediately surrounded by friends praising their music. Darcy, amazed to see Georgiana performing in front of strangers in the first place, much less such a large assembly of them, determined to pay his compliments to her himself. They were somewhat delayed by Sir William Lucas, who felt a need to share his positive impressions of the event, though not without a necessary comparison to the Court of St. James. Elizabeth, who noted that Darcy was becoming increasingly taciturn as the evening progressed, made their excuses as quickly as possible.

  Georgiana was in a circle of young people who were clearly enjoying themselves with substantially less dignity than their elders. Her hand resting lightly on the arm of a young man whom Elizabeth recognized vaguely as one of the Bingley cousins, she was laughing heartily at something Kitty was whispering in her ear.

  Darcy’s countenance changed. He stepped forward and drew Georgiana away from the others with a particularly hostile stare for the young man. She followed somewhat unwillingly. Elizabeth was able to hear only the beginning of the lecture Darcy was delivering with quiet anger to Georgiana, “Remember who you are and where you are!” Elizabeth bit her lip as she watched all the animation drain out of the girl’s face. She made a whispered response, eyes on the floor, as her brother ended his scolding, and when he turned away, Elizabeth noted that she did not return to her friends, but instead looked around the room, and then approached Mrs. Gardiner and attached herself quietly to her.

  Elizabeth had difficulty meeting Darcy’s eyes when he returned to her, clearly still angered over Georgiana’s behavior. She did not know how to comprehend his action, and he did not seem in a mood for explanations, yet she found herself roused to resentment on Georgiana’s behalf, and saddened to see her behaving once again in her previous timid manner. “Mr. Darcy, it would seem that your sister took your words very much to heart,” she said with a tinge of reproach in her voice.

  He looked down at her coolly. “My sister and I understand each other quite well, Miss Bennet,” he responded.

  Taken aback by his tone, she said placatingly, “I am sure you do, although it is difficult for anyone to completely comprehend the sensitivity of a girl at that age.”

  “Sensitive she may be, but she is still a Darcy, and must behave appropriately. I will not have her behaving in such a manner,” he said, glancing toward the group of young people.

  Elizabeth felt her anger beginning to rise. “She did not seem to be behaving any differently from the rest of the young people.”

  As she pronounced these words, Mr. Darcy changed color. His voice became icy. “Miss Bennet, Georgiana will inhabit a different world than these people, and expectations for her will be different. What may seem completely normal to you may be regarded with the greatest of disapprobation in higher levels of society, and I will thank you to allow me to be the best judge of these matters.”

  “Indeed,” Elizabeth said with quiet indignation, “how could I judge when my manners and breeding are no better than anyone else here, not including, of course, the Darcys!” In the back of her mind, she heard Miss Bingley’s words again—he may submerge his pride, but it will never disappear—and she shuddered inwardly.

  “Madam, I believe that we have covered this ground in some detail in the past! Georgiana’s situation is different from yours, and that is all there is to it,” he retorted.

  “I see, and this would mean the very behavior you encourage in me would be unacceptable from her,” she responded in a voice that was far too level.

  He opened his mouth to respond, but said nothing, demonstrating clearly to Elizabeth his belief in the truth of her accusation. Finally he said, “I do not believe this is either the time or the place for this discussion, Miss Bennet!”

  “You are quite right, sir. I believe that more than enough has been said. If you will excuse me.” She turned and walked away swiftly, her composure close to breaking. She did not stop until she found herself on the outdoor terrace which, as the evening was turning chilly, was deserted. Wrapping her arms around herself against the cool air, she heard Miss Bingley’s words in her mind again, and wondered whether she herself had been willfully blind, and so enchanted with Mr. Darcy as to mistake a superficial alteration in manners for a deeper change in perception.

  Tears began to fall as she remembered the cold look he gave her. She reviewed his words in her mind, trying to find an alternate interpretation, and, finding none, attempting to find a justification. That she should not have tried to interfere in his discipline of Georgiana at this early stage in their relationship might be argued, as could the idea that she did not understand the expectations of the ton. Yet his attitude, his immediate rejection of her ideas, spoke much against him, as did the humiliation of not being held to the same standard as his sister.

  My good opinion, once lost, is lost forever, his voice echoed from the past, and her tears began to flow in earnest as fear took its place in her heart. Had she, with a few ill-chosen words, lost his good opinion? The devastation this t
hought engendered in her went deeper than she would have believed possible. She attempted to reassure herself by reminding herself that she had said far worse things at Hunsford and been forgiven, but still a small part of her would not be comforted.

  Shivering with cold, she struggled to determine what course she should take. The example of her parents had given her no insights into the resolution of quarrels. What advice would her aunt Gardiner give? She would advise speaking with him, but how, and where?

  Her final question was answered for her as she realized that she was no longer alone. Darcy stood before her, and, taking his handkerchief, he began to gently dry her tears. Softly he said, “Elizabeth, you are quite right, and I am nothing but a hypocrite. I hold Georgiana to a standard I cannot meet, and no longer even want to meet, and it is not fair to her. Part of your appeal for me has always been your willingness to flout certain rules, and I would not have you alter that for the world.”

  His tenderness only caused her tears to flow more freely. “I must apologize for interfering between you and your sister, as well as for my intemperate words,” she said, her voice shaking.

  “Please do not; your point was a good one, and I count on you to help me understand Georgiana, as she is often a mystery to me. The truth is, it is past time for me to confess one of my greatest failings to you, and I can only hope for your understanding and acceptance. I told you that I dread large gatherings; that is only the beginning. I detest and despise them. I am never so uncomfortable as when I am in that setting, especially when I am forced to make conversation, and I find that I end up saying and doing things I would not in other circumstances, and later regret. In fact,” he said with a slight smile, “I recall an assembly I once attended, where I said that a very lovely lady was not handsome enough to tempt me solely to avoid having to make conversation with a stranger.”