What Would Mr. Darcy Do?
“If we are to be choosing flowers for their virtues, perhaps I should give you forget-me-nots.”
“Then we both favor the flowers of the springtime, for I would have to choose sweet williams for you,” she said daringly.
Their eyes caught and held. Elizabeth found her breath coming quickly. Darcy reached out a hand and touched the inside of her wrist. “Miss Bennet, I have said I can be patient if I have hope. Can you give me that?”
Blushing, she said, “I believe you already know the answer to that, Mr. Darcy.”
“Some answers need to be heard.”
Elizabeth felt dizzy. “Sir, if I were to follow only the dictates of my heart, you may rest assured that you would be satisfied.”
The power of his gaze as he gripped her hand tightly was irresistible. He reached out to touch her face, and she became achingly conscious of how little she wished to resist him. Carefully, she looked away, and taking his arm once again, directed them to begin walking again. Lightly, she said, “I would remind you, sir, that we still remain in full view of the house.”
“But it would be difficult for an observer to see in detail at this distance,” he said, allowing his lips to caress her hair lightly. Placing a finger under her chin, he tipped her face gently up until their eyes met again. “And no one will hear if you call me by my name.”
She could not resist him. Her longing was evident in her voice as she whispered, “Fitzwilliam.” His eyes blazed, and, as if hypnotized, she watched his face lowering toward hers until she could resist the pull no longer, and raised her lips to his.
Somehow Darcy found the strength to pull back after the briefest taste of the pleasure of her kiss. “Dearest, loveliest Elizabeth,” he murmured.
Because she could not stop herself, she raised a hand and touched the tips of her fingers to his cheek. The feeling of his skin seemed to burn down her arm, and her face unconsciously reflected the yearning she felt. Darcy closed his eyes against the invitation he read in her eyes, and, taking her hand from his cheek, he kissed her palm, her fingers, the soft skin inside her wrist. He heard the sharp intake of her breath, and felt the last of his control beginning to dissolve. “Elizabeth,” he said urgently, “we must not…” But even as he spoke, he was drawing her into his arms and seeking her mouth with ever-increasing urgency.
Elizabeth’s astonishment in the pleasure of his kisses paled next to the intoxicating response she experienced as she felt his body against hers, the passion of his kisses deepening from moment to moment. Realizing how close she was coming to losing herself in his arms, she somehow forced herself to pull away.
He released her immediately. Unable to bring herself to look at his face, she turned away from him, and, with feelings of the deepest mortification for her behavior, covered her eyes with her hand.
“Shall we return to the house, then?” asked Darcy, his voice slightly unsteady.
She nodded, still avoiding looking at him. As they walked, she sought desperately for some comment to make light of the situation, but her thoughts were still too full of the sensation of his kisses.
“Miss Bennet, it seems I must make a habit of apologizing to you for my behavior. I would like to assure you that I do not usually engage in this sort of conduct, though I fear you would have every reason to disbelieve me under the circumstances; however, it is true, and I regret most sincerely having offended you.”
“I thank you, sir, but I am not offended, except at my own behavior.”
“Please, do not blame yourself in any way; I am completely at fault,” Darcy responded, not without distress.
“That is most courteous of you to say, sir, but we both know that the conduct of neither of us, if strictly examined, was irreproachable.”
“If so, I am still much more at fault than you.” Tentatively, he asked, “Miss Bennet, I beg of you, if it is not too much to ask, to tell me what upsets you so much that you will not look at me?”
Taking a deep breath, Elizabeth crossed her arms in front of her and turned to regard him. In a pained voice, she asked, “What must you think of me?”
“You are concerned about what I think of you?” A relieved look lightened his face. “My dear Miss Bennet, I think of you as a virtuous young woman who I sincerely hope will be my future wife, and I count myself among the most fortunate of men that you apparently have enough feeling for me as to occasionally allow that feeling to overwhelm your sense of propriety where I am concerned. Please, you need feel no concern whatsoever on this subject.”
“It is discomfiting, to say the least, that after never having allowed a gentleman even the slightest liberties in the past, I seem to have overnight begun to behave like my sister Lydia.”
“Hardly, Miss Bennet, you have consistently applied restraint—”
Elizabeth interrupted, “Hardly consistently!”
He applied a look of mock disapproval to her before continuing, “—whereas you would have every reason to think that I would stop at nothing to take advantage of you.”
“I think not; the word ‘no’ seems to have been quite efficacious to date.” She smiled rather tentatively at him, and was relieved to find that he returned her smile. With harmony somewhat restored, she added, “But I am, perhaps, not quite ready to face my family. I think I shall sit on this bench—in extremely full view of the house—for a few minutes yet, and I would be happy to have your company, sir.”
He made a slight bow. They sat, and forcibly turned their conversation to safer topics, while Elizabeth made valiant but eventually futile attempts not to be completely distracted by the light touch of his hand against hers on the bench, a situation which to the casual observer would appear to be quite innocent, but which felt anything but that.
Chapter 5
As soon as the gentlemen had taken their leave, Elizabeth, feeling quite unequal to any discussion regarding Darcy that might arise between her family members, took the opportunity to retire to her room to be alone with her thoughts. She was unsurprised, however, to hear a knock on the door heralding the arrival of Jane, full of concern for her well-being.
“Lizzy,” said Jane, taking her hand, “what happened? Please, tell me all about it.”
Elizabeth surprised herself and her sister by bursting into tears.
“Oh, Lizzy. I am so sorry. I hope he was not too cruel.”
“No, he was not cruel. He said everything I could hope he would say. He was charming and solicitous…”
Jane, more than puzzled over her sister’s distress, asked, “Did he renew his addresses?” In response to her sister’s slight nod, she added, “And did you accept him?”
“I told him I needed time.”
“Lizzy, why? Why not just accept him? You love him, I know you do!”
“Because, Jane, I do not have your touching faith in everyone’s goodness, and I have learned to my chagrin that my judgments of people are not as accurate as I had always thought. I misjudged Darcy badly in the past in many ways. Now I am judging that he has changed greatly in regard to his pride, but I am choosing to believe this based on the evidence of five conversations. Five, Jane! Given my history of misjudgment, should I base my future happiness on what may be no more than a temporary aberration and a great deal of wishful thinking on my part? My heart wants to accept him, but my head tells me to be cautious.”
“Bingley has known him and trusted him for years, Lizzy. That cannot count for nothing.”
“I know, and Miss Darcy believes him to be the finest brother in the world, but I need evidence of my own.”
“So you told him you needed time. Then what happened?”
Elizabeth, with a teary smile, said, “Then we progressed from behaving badly to behaving disgracefully, and then we had a fight over who was most at fault for it. Jane, you must never leave us alone together—we cannot be trusted.”
“Dearest Lizzy, of course, if that is what you wish. But did you part well?”
“Yes, except for the stress of knowing that we b
oth could think of very little apart from how much we wished for the privacy to disgrace ourselves yet again! Oh, Jane, how do you and Bingley survive this longing and look so happy all the time? This is agony!”
Jane smiled gently. “The agony was all in the waiting and wondering for me. Perhaps, once you and Darcy have settled this between yourselves, it will be easier.”
“And have you nothing to say of my behavior?”
“I am… surprised, but I do recognize that Darcy is a man who is violently in love, and I would imagine that he could be quite persuasive.”
“Jane, you are too good for the rest of us!”
The comfort that Jane was able to offer allowed Elizabeth to face the rest of the day with tolerable composure, though her thoughts were continually at Netherfield, and sleep did not come easily that night.
***
Elizabeth awoke the next morning to the same thoughts and meditations which had at length closed her eyes. It was impossible to think of anything else but Darcy, and, after some period of being totally indisposed to employment, decided to start embroidering a new handkerchief with a pattern of intertwining forget-me-nots and sweet williams.
It was a relief when at last the gentlemen arrived. Bingley proposed their all walking out; it was agreed to, but Mary could not spare the time, and Kitty owned she was not much for walking. This plan being of eminent satisfaction to the four remaining walkers, they set out immediately.
Bingley and Jane soon tactfully lagged behind somewhat, allowing Elizabeth and Darcy to entertain each other. Elizabeth, with a sly glance at Darcy, informed him Jane was prepared to provide chaperonage for them, which engaged more laughter from him than she anticipated.
“You did not hear Bingley’s original plan for the day,” he said with great amusement. “He suggested—being tolerably well acquainted with how things stand for me—that we invite you and Jane to dine at Netherfield today, with the intent you and I could chaperone them, but in fact allow some small degree of privacy.”
“Pray, how did you respond to this proposition, sir?”
“It is perhaps wisest for that to remain between Bingley and me,” he replied, then, in response to a stern look from his companion, added, “But if you must know, I told him that I thought his plan to be ill-advised, in that it might lead to me reaching the altar before he did.”
“Mr. Darcy!”
“So it is my expectation that Bingley will be keeping a close eye on us as well. I do seem to need all the help I can get in that regard,” he said, continuing the banter. “But I hope your information did not give your sister an overly poor impression of me.”
“Jane is constitutionally unable to think ill of anyone, and since you, sir, have already demonstrated your fine sensibilities in your choice of both Bingley and myself as favored companions, your place in her esteem is, I believe, quite secure.”
“Well, if that is the case, perhaps I can afford to take a few risks.” He turned and called back to his friend, “Bingley—the view behind us is most pleasant. You must show it to Miss Bennet.”
As Elizabeth turned as well to see what he was pointing out, Darcy took advantage of the distraction of the other couple to steal a light but lingering kiss. “I never said Bingley would be a particularly good chaperone,” he said with some satisfaction. “He has too much sympathy with my position.”
“I hope you are aware that Jane does not,” she replied, and, noting the continued inattention from their companions, very daringly reached up and brushed her lips against his.
His eyes darkened in response. “You are fortunate, Miss Bennet, in that I am sure our fine chaperones would intervene if I were to make the response I would wish to that.”
Elizabeth laughed, and allowed her hand to slip lightly into his as they walked on. A few moments later, Jane called in a disapproving voice, “Elizabeth!”
Reluctantly, Darcy released her hand, saying, “I see you were correct, and she indeed has no sympathy whatsoever!”
“None, indeed,” she replied. “Jane is far too good for the rest of us.”
“I have been thinking,” he said a few minutes later, “that when I return for Bingley’s wedding, it is likely to be far more difficult to conceal my interest in you from your family, especially with my sister present.”
“Not to mention the apparent likelihood of being caught in some compromising situation or other,” she said demurely. “I did mention to Miss Darcy in my last letter that my parents think of you as only an indifferent acquaintance of mine, and that it would be best at present not to challenge that idea.”
“Be that as it may, I would like to ask in all seriousness if you would object if, after my arrival for the wedding, I were to speak to your father regarding my intentions, with the understanding that I do not as yet have your consent.”
Elizabeth was silent for a few moments as many feelings coursed through her. “I do not object, sir,” she responded quietly.
“Do you approve?” There was a thread of tension in his voice.
She looked up to meet his intent gaze. “Yes, I approve. Perhaps you might tell him that we have… an understanding.”
“Elizabeth,” he breathed, his eyes drifting to her lips. Her pulses pounded in a now familiar sensation, and she found herself longing for the relief that only his touch could bring.
With a muttered curse, he glanced behind them, then drew her over into a copse of trees by the side of the path. “I make no apologies,” he said in a low voice as he pulled her into his arms.
Secure in the knowledge that they would be shortly interrupted, Elizabeth allowed herself to slip her arms around his neck and abandon herself to the pleasure of his kisses. Tangling her fingers in his hair, she gasped as he drew a line of kisses along her cheek and down her neck before reclaiming her mouth once more with an urgency that stirred her beyond her imaginings.
“Elizabeth!” Jane cried. Reluctantly, they separated, and Elizabeth’s guilty look and Darcy’s unrepentant one met Jane’s stern glare and Bingley’s frankly delighted gaze. “I think it would be best if we all walked together.”
As they meekly followed her sister, Darcy whispered in her ear, “If that was an example of what I have to look forward to with you, sweetest Elizabeth, I shall be a very happy man indeed.” Elizabeth blushed furiously.
***
Darcy had promised to stop by Longbourn briefly to take his leave before his departure for Pemberley the following day, which provided a ray of hope for Elizabeth, who was already anticipating missing him. When he arrived, though, it became immediately clear there would be no opportunity for private conversation, as her mother insisted on commanding her attention for wedding plans. They were able to exchange a few heartfelt glances across the room, but no more. She still reserved hope for the moment of his departure, and was not the only one thinking of this; Bingley, when the moment came, announced himself to be too critical to the current discussion to break off, and perhaps Miss Elizabeth could see his guest to his carriage on his behalf.
Taking care to look none too anxious to perform this task, she walked out into the hallway, followed by Darcy, who managed to find the briefest moment between their departure from the drawing room and the opening of the front door to press something into Elizabeth’s hand. Then they were outside, in the presence of Darcy’s footman and coachman, who stood with their eyes carefully averted as their master took his time kissing Miss Bennet’s hand and thanking her for her most gracious hospitality while looking deeply into her eyes. She, in turn, assured him gravely of her hopes she would enjoy his company again soon. With one long parting look, he entered the carriage and was off. Elizabeth watched until it vanished from sight, trying to ignore the pricking of tears in her eyes, then, with a sigh, returned to the house. She paused inside just long enough to ascertain that what Darcy had given her was a paper, folded small, and she tucked it into her pocket for later perusal before returning to the drawing room.
After a certain amount of
time spent entertaining Mr. Bingley and her family with a decidedly cheerful countenance, Elizabeth deemed it acceptable to retire to the safety of her room, where she at last was able to inspect the paper Darcy had given her.
Sonnet XCVII
How like a winter hath my absence been
From thee, the pleasure of the fleeting year!
What freezings have I felt, what dark days seen!
What old December’s bareness every where!
And yet this time removed was summer’s time,
The teeming autumn, but with rich increase,
Bearing the wanton burthen of the prime,
Like widow’d wombs after their lords’ decease:
Yet this abundant issue seem’d to me
But hope of orphans and unfather’d fruit;
For summer and his pleasures wait on thee,
And, thou away, the very birds are mute;
Or, if they sing, ’tis with so dull a cheer
That leaves look pale, dreading the winter’s near.
—W. Shakespeare
So shall I be until we meet again, my dearest Elizabeth, for you shall be my constant companion in thought, until I can be once more in your most beloved presence. Till then, I remain, as always, yours in every way, FD
Elizabeth, with deep feeling, pressed this missive to her breast, and it was some time before she could find the resolve to fold it up and secret it away in a drawer.
***
Had Elizabeth been aware of the exact time planned for Darcy’s return to Hertfordshire, she would certainly have been counting the days, but as it was, she only knew that the next few weeks would be much longer than she would wish. She attempted, to the extent possible, to distract her mind with activity. When she found herself wakeful at night, she used the time to continue embroidering the handkerchief she intended for Darcy. During the day she spent a good deal of time in Jane’s company, where she did not feel it necessary to pretend to a false cheerfulness.