Seven Days With Mr Darcy

by Rose Fairbanks

  Or so she had always told herself. She had never fancied herself in love before meeting Mr. Bingley. Her heart was not lightly touched or given to extreme emotion. She generally thought well of everyone, but to truly admire and love someone was another matter entirely. Such were her thoughts when she heard a carriage pull up the drive and saw Mr. Bingley and a very pretty young lady, undoubtedly Miss Darcy, descend. She burst into tears.

  *****

  While walking in the garden with Lady Catherine, Elizabeth waited for the lady to begin the explanation for her errand. She did not need to wait long.

  “Yesterday I heard that you, the unknown Miss Elizabeth Bennet of Longbourn in Hertfordshire, are engaged to my nephew, Mr. Darcy!”

  Elizabeth said nothing in reply.

  “Surely you must contradict this falsehood being circulated!”

  “If you believed it false, I wonder at you coming. How came you to hear this news?”

  Lady Catherine turned red. “That matters not. I am assured of its impossibility. I insist on you answering me plainly. Are you engaged to my nephew?”

  “Your ladyship has declared it to be impossible.”

  “Let me be clear, this match cannot take place. Mr. Darcy is engaged to my daughter.”

  Yesterday Elizabeth would have considered this viable, but not today. Now, she knew the honour of Mr. Darcy. She inwardly scoffed at an aunt who knew him so little. “If he is, then you should know his honour would prevent him from offering for me.”

  “The engagement is of a tacit nature, but every virtue forbids your match. The alliance would be a disgrace!” Lady Catherine drew closer and attempted to tower over Elizabeth. “You shall be despised by everyone.”

  “What care I for the favour of the world? I believe the world in general would have far too much sense to scorn my marriage to Mr. Darcy. If his family chooses to be resentful, it will not cause me one moment’s concern. The wife of Mr. Darcy would have so many other extraordinary sources of happiness, she could have no regrets!”

  Clearly displeased, Lady Catherine turned to increasing insults. “If you were sensible to your own good, you should not want to quit the sphere in which you have been brought up.”

  Elizabeth opened her mouth to retort when she heard from behind her, “I am a gentleman, she is a gentleman’s daughter. We are equals.”

  *****

  Darcy rapidly exited the house and desperately searched for his aunt and Elizabeth. He happened upon them just as Elizabeth suggested she would be happy to marry him. He was almost too caught up in joy to hear his aunt’s next words.

  “If you were sensible to your own good, you should not want to quit the sphere in which you have been brought up.”

  Loudly and sternly he declared, “I am a gentleman, she is a gentleman’s daughter. We are equals.”

  Both ladies startled and turned to face him. Darcy noticed Elizabeth’s heightened colour; she was furious, but became visibly relieved by his presence. By G-d she is beautiful, even more so when angry!

  Darcy gave her a small, reassuring smile before turning his attention to his aunt, giving her his most fierce glare.

  “Darcy! How can you say such a thing? Are you ignorant of the conditions of her uncles and aunts, of her mother? I know it all—her cousin is my parson and heir to this estate!”

  “Whatever her connections may be, I do not object to them. They can mean nothing to you.”

  “You refuse to obey the claims of duty and honour?”

  “No principle of either would be violated by my marriage with Miss Elizabeth.”

  “Nephew, I am shocked and astonished. I had thought you a reasonable young man. You desire to degrade yourself with her relations? Are the shades of Pemberley to be thus polluted? What of Anne’s wealth? Does it mean nothing to you? How can you forget yourself so? I demand that you promise to never enter into a union of any kind with this woman!”

  Darcy spoke clearly to Lady Catherine, but looked earnestly at Elizabeth. “I shall make no promise of any kind. I have every wish and intention of making Miss Elizabeth Bennet my wife.”

  Lady Catherine’s eyes narrowed on Elizabeth. “I see.” She pointed a finger at Elizabeth and declared menacingly, “You have drawn him in with your arts and allurements. You have made him forget, in a moment of infatuation, what he owes himself and to all of his family!”

  Darcy took a step forward and caught his aunt’s attention but still looked at Elizabeth. “No, aunt. I will not marry Miss Bennet due to infatuation or for any other reason than a very deep respect, admiration and love. I am not a squeamish youth. I know what I am about. I have considered this for many weeks and am certain of my course.”

  Elizabeth met his eyes with a softened gaze and stepped towards him, but Lady Catherine would not have it. “Miss Bennet, have you no regard for my nephew’s honour and credit? You are an unfeeling, selfish girl! You are resolved then to have him?”

  Darcy caught his breath and waited for Elizabeth’s response.

  “I have not made my sentiments plain to you before, Lady Catherine, but allow me to do so now. I love your nephew and can be persuaded to have no other husband but him.”

  With the last of Elizabeth’s words, Darcy caught her hand in his and directed her towards a copse of trees, away from his aunt. From a distance they heard Lady Catherine shout in anger. “I take no leave of you Miss Bennet. Darcy, I am most seriously displeased!”

  *****

  Darcy’s and Elizabeth’s eyes remained locked until the noise of Lady Catherine receded. Elizabeth broke the silence.

  “I thought you were a man of your word, Mr. Darcy,” she teased. “I seem to have a written account of you vowing never to marry me because of your duty to your family.”

  Darcy cringed, realising she had read his words. He released her hand but countered with, “And I have one from you vowing never to marry me because you cannot esteem me.”

  “Yes, the words of neither are irreproachable.”

  “Elizabeth, do not trifle with me. My affections and wishes are unchanged, but I am no longer a coward, or puffed up by a false sense of pride. I wish, nay need, you as my wife, a wife I can love, honour and respect.”

  Feeling all the significance of the moment, Elizabeth reached for Darcy’s hand and kissed his knuckles. “Fitzwilliam, I have already told you that you are the only man I can be persuaded to love. I now know I have every reason to respect and esteem you. What is to be done but to marry you?”

  Elizabeth gasped as Darcy grinned, revealing dimples.

  “My lovely Elizabeth! I know you believe me to be an arrogant and conceited man, but I must tell you the fear that has gripped my heart since I first read your letter. First it was only out of my own selfishness. I wished to marry you and was in many ways relieved I had no choice. While I quickly accepted the justness of your complaints, I considered only myself. I worried you might refuse me. As I came to consider how great the gossip might be and that you may even be forced to marry me against your will, I worried for your happiness. I already hated myself for making you love me against your will. Then I learned my insulting letter made you think we should not marry, that you believed I would regret our marriage and my love was just a boyish infatuation.”

  “Please do not blame yourself for my selfish fears.”

  “Selfish? No, you could never be selfish.”

  “Oh, but I was. I did not wish to experience your love to only be rejected later. I claimed I thought of your own feelings, but only considered mine. I was afraid, too, and yet I declare my courage always rises to every occasion.”

  Darcy smiled at the image. “What changed your mind?”

  “I had a very enlightening conversation with my mother.”

  “Your mother!”

  “Is it so hard to believe she has some cleverness about her? You may see little resemblance between us, but she is responsible for my upbringing.”

  “I…no, I do not find it so impossible. I must thank her t
hen!”

  Elizabeth laughed. “And Lady Catherine as well!”

  “I will concede your mother talking with you must have been of great use, but I was in no humour to wait. Perhaps my aunt forced you to speak earlier and more passionately than you had anticipated, but it was your father who first gave me hope.”

  “What did he say?”

  “He told me to carefully consider your words. You declared yourself the last woman in the world I ought to marry, yet you did not say I was the last man you desired to marry. After much thought, I determined that I would not give up my fight unless you irrevocably sent me away.”

  Elizabeth blinked back tears. “They have taught us so much.”

  “Perhaps, but I think a part of us understood each other by heart.”

  She still held his hand, and he raised his other to her cheek. His eyes dropped to her lips, and his smile dissolved into a look of tender, but fervent, need. Elizabeth could see he was waiting for some sign of encouragement, of consent, but she could never speak the words. Instead, she turned her head just enough to place a kiss on the palm of his hand that still held her cheek, and she heard him take in a sharp breath.

  She looked into his eyes as he leaned in closer. “Elizabeth,” he said reverently. He was so close she could feel his breath on her cheek, causing her eyes to flutter. He moved his other hand to her face, and now cradled it in his large hands as she held her breath.

  “Elizabeth.” His voice was low and hoarse. He looked at her lips again. “May I kiss you?”

  Slowly he leaned his head still closer, his lips so near that the smallest nod of her head or murmur of assent would make their lips meet. She gave just the briefest tilt of her head, and he pulled her even closer.

  Darcy very softly and tenderly brushed his lips against Elizabeth’s. Instantly, he was addicted. He needed another kiss, and another, and another. They were slow and tentative at first, as he did not wish to frighten her. In truth, he could not help himself. Her kisses were so innocent, so sweet, and she was beginning to respond eagerly to his persistence.

  He drew in her top lip, and she further opened her mouth to him. He stifled a groan at just the hint of moisture on her lips, tantalizing him. Although she made no indication she desired to stop or leave, he found himself gently holding her in place with his hands. His thumbs stroked her silky cheeks. Somehow, through the haze and joy of feeling Elizabeth’s increasing passion, he realized he needed to restrain himself.

  Darcy pulled back and was pleased to hear her breathing was ragged and to see that her face was flushed and eyes were darkened with desire. He could not curb his passion – just one more kiss, he told himself. After his last peck, which made Elizabeth giggle in delight, he looped her arm through his and began to pull her towards the house.

  Chapter Eight

  Wednesday, December 11, 1811

  Longbourn

  Jane sat in the drawing room, nervously twisting her handkerchief. She continually wiped her eyes, but the streams of tears would not cease. If being a Bennet taught her anything, it was to behave as though nothing was amiss. Her every intention was to act as though all was well, even if her face was tear-streaked as she spoke to Mr. Bingley and Miss Darcy.

  Instead of Mr. Bingley being shown in, it was Miss Darcy alone who was brought in and announced by Mrs. Hill.

  “Miss Bennet,” Georgiana said. “Mr. Bingley wished me to give you this letter. He said he would be in the side garden if you wished to speak with him after reading it.”

  Jane took the letter with shaking fingers but could not speak.

  “I understand my brother is speaking with Miss Elizabeth somewhere?” She sounded hopeful, and Jane was pleased to understand that Darcy did not mean to give up on Elizabeth so easily. Jane only nodded her head.

  Georgiana awkwardly stood for another minute, as though she had more to say, but then curtsied and left to Jane knew not where. In any other situation she would be aggrieved at her poor hostessing skills, but today she did not care.

  Tearing open the seal, she found a very neatly written letter. Clearly Mr. Bingley had put much effort into writing it.

  Wednesday, December 11, 1811

  Netherfield Park

  My dearest Angel, My darling Jane,

  When Darcy suggested I return to Netherfield Park, I was at once elated even as fear gripped my heart.

  I must confess there was a mismanagement in my education and, even if there was not, I was not raised to be the heir. My elder brother died unexpectedly four years ago, and Darcy took me under his wing. Being ill-prepared, I have been ever afraid of making mistakes and shaming my family legacy, and I have been diffident in grasping the responsibilities left to me.

  This same cowardliness led me to delay returning to Hertfordshire to discover the sentiments of your heart. Not only are the obligations of a married man a daunting thought, I had a very real fear that you did not care for me at all, as much as we appeared to enjoy each other’s company. I had wished to avoid direct knowledge of my rejection by courting your good opinion. I persuaded myself that you did not care for me, with no word from you on the matter, because of my selfish pride and fears.

  I can finally admit the truth which has terrified me. I love you deeply. I may have thought myself infatuated with other ladies before, but, when worried of the lady’s indifference, I found I never cared enough to seek the truth. With you, I must know. You must tell me. I know you are truly kind and would never wish to pain me, and so I have written this letter rather than importune you with my presence. If you care for me at all, and are prepared to give me a chance to prove my worth, you may find me in the garden we first walked in. If you do not appear, I will know by your silence. I dare not have hope, but at last I have courage.

  I will only add,

  God bless you,

  Charles Bingley

  Jane could scarcely think straight. That Bingley truly did love her, but was in so much doubt as to her returned affections, was hard to credit. Had she truly hidden her feelings so much? He was nearly convinced of her indifference!

  His disappearance had hurt her badly. Jane realized now, Caroline had plotted to kill Jane’s love for Bingley, to cause her to give up her hopes; had his sister also sought to discourage him? Had she truly any right to such hopes, Jane wondered, when she had not encouraged Bingley enough? When, out of her own selfish fear, she allowed him to feel such misery? No! It must not be! She fled the room.

  *****

  Lydia lurked in the hallway outside the drawing room. It was how she always gleaned gossip. Already this morning she learned Elizabeth was in love with Mr. Darcy but had refused his offer of marriage. Now, his sister was in her very home. She pressed her ear against the door to hear the conversation in the drawing room when the door unexpectedly opened, and Lydia nearly fell on top of Miss Darcy.

  “I beg your pardon,” Georgiana meekly whispered.

  Lydia sniffed but allowed Georgiana to entirely exit the room and close the door.

  “So you’re Miss Darcy? I have heard a lot about you.”

  Georgiana coloured, and Lydia smiled.

  “Yes, you should blush. I have heard you were too proud to marry Mr. Wickham and scandalously broke off your engagement with him!”

  Georgiana sharply looked up. She looked as though she might cry but then shook her head and squared her shoulders.

  “Is there some place we might talk in private, Miss…?”

  “I am Lydia Bennet.”

  “Is there some place we might talk in private, Miss Lydia?”

  Lydia considered for a moment, but then decided it was just as well to speak with one of Mr. Darcy’s relations when another one was out of doors with Elizabeth and his best friend was wandering around in the garden. How odd it was for Longbourn to be so besieged by people of such pride and wealth!

  “This way.” She scurried off and did not even glance back to see if she was followed. Lydia led Georgiana to the old school room. They now us
ed it for large projects, such as modifying gowns for balls.

  “Miss Lydia,” Georgiana began with all the authority of her elder brother, though it was hardly the thing that would work on Lydia. “I do not know what specifically Mr. Wickham has explained to you about the circumstances, but I know his failures have been explained by my brother to both your father and elder sister.”

  Lydia huffed. “Yes, they both declare Wickham is a gamester and has seduced women. But what is this compared to true love?”

  “Oh, and you think you are in love with him?”

  “Every girl in the area is out of their senses about him. Lizzy included! Your brother can only have a chance with her by blackening Wickham’s name, and Lizzy believed him readily enough due to his money, I dare say.”

  Georgiana scoffed. “You truly believe this? Your sister loves my brother! She even wrote of it in a letter!”

  This was the first time Lydia had heard that Elizabeth loved Mr. Darcy, let alone the shocking news that Elizabeth broke with propriety and wrote him a letter. She feigned her calm. “Everyone must have some money to live on; the handsome as well as the plain, the agreeable as well as the disagreeable and spiteful, hateful, haughty creatures.”

  “You mean to insult my brother? He is here now declaring his love once more, and I believe we will soon be family.”

  “The whole neighbourhood hates him!”

  Lydia would have imagined herself in a complete triumph over her companion if Miss Darcy had not turned so red, this time in anger. Lydia did not wonder at the reaction, she had intended to provoke and was pleased to see some youthful spirit emerge from the elegantly dressed lady she had heard was too proud to speak.