Longbourn's Songbird

by Beau North

  “Lizzie, I feel like I could just—”

  “I know, Jane” he heard Elizabeth say. “I know.”

  ***

  It was several hours after Leland Collins’s eventful departure that Jane was at last able to have a moment with Bingley alone. Most of the family was listening to the Carolina game on the radio, and their cheers followed Jane as she slipped out onto the front porch.

  Bingley sat on the porch swing, looking morose. His eyes were bloodshot and red-rimmed, missing their usual happy light.

  “Charles,” Jane said. “What you did today…”

  “You don’t let a mad dog run loose in your yard. You put it down.” He looked slowly up at her. “Are you here to put me down, Jane?”

  She sat beside him, startling him. Her fingers reached out, tenderly brushing the hair back from his brow.

  “I can’t pretend to fully understand what you must have gone through, or how it must trouble you still. But know this…” Her voice was firm. “I will have you, and all of you.”

  “But Jane, you saw—”

  She put her hand to his lips, silencing him. “You protected Charlotte—protected us. I was fearsome proud of you, Charles. Don’t you see? The fact that you’re so worried about being a man like Collins, or anyone else, makes you anything but.”

  She leaned forward, touching her soft lips to his until she felt him respond, his mouth opening to her, welcoming her. When she pulled away, she was relieved to see his eyes dancing again.

  “I’m going back inside,” she said. “Care to join me?”

  “Leave now?” He sputtered. She gave him a knowing smile.

  “Unless you had something else in mind?”

  Naturally, he did.

  ***

  “Ugh, terrible!”

  Elizabeth tossed her papers up in the air, letting them scatter all over the room. She abandoned her place at her father’s desk, searching through the stacks of books on his shelves for something more appropriate to read at a wedding dinner.

  Her options didn’t satisfy her, and she found herself thinking of the slim volume she read at Netherfield during Jane’s illness. She’d never read anything that gave her such a physical reaction. The lush verses made her pulse quicken, her skin prickling at the slightest sensation.

  “No, no this will not do at all.”

  She reached into her pocket, reassured that the folded papers were still safely tucked away. She could hardly comprehend what it would cost him if she were to sign. And what it may cost me.

  Her head snapped up at the sound of the door opening.

  “I told you I needed privacy!” She was taken aback to see Darcy’s tall frame behind the door.

  “I’m sorry…” he said awkwardly from the doorway.

  “Oh, Mr. Darcy! I’m sorry; I thought you were someone else.” She wrung her hands.

  “I was looking for your father. I’ll just…I’ll just come back later.”

  “Oh for heaven’s sake, wait!” she said, making him halt and turn back to her.

  “Please, come in and stay awhile,” she said trying to sound more confident than she felt. “Come in, and…and shut the door behind you.”

  His eyebrows rose, but he silently obeyed. She noticed he had to stoop slightly to get in the door and wondered whether that was a habit or the discovery of the low door frame had been a painful one.

  “Is something funny?” She shook her head, still smiling slightly.

  “Not as much as I would like.”

  “What happened in here?” He gestured at the papers strewn all over the floor.

  “Oh. That.” Elizabeth’s smile vanished. She sighed dramatically and bent to pick them up.

  “Jane and Charles asked me to read something at the wedding dinner, and I thought…I thought it would be more personal, more memorable…” She trailed off.

  “If you wrote something for the occasion? That’s what all this is?”

  “Many failed attempts is what this is.” She began to gather them back up, but quick as a flash, he bent and plucked one off the floor.

  “No!” she cried, mortified. “Please, don’t!” She tried to snatch it out of his hand, but he held it up out of her reach.

  “Why not?” he asked, puzzled.

  “Because it’s embarrassing! It’s not any good!”

  “I won’t laugh,” he said solemnly. She reached for it again. “Elizabeth, please.”

  He tilted her chin up so that she saw nothing but him. She wondered whether she’d ever noticed the flecks of gold in his deep green eyes before. She thought about what he was asking. He was asking her to trust him.

  She swallowed and nodded her consent, stepping back. She needed air. There never seemed to be enough when he was around.

  He gave her a small, reassuring smile before he looked down at the page and began to read.

  “It was but one look—”

  “Don’t read it out loud!” She felt herself blushing, which only made her more upset.

  “Elizabeth, please.”

  Rather than look at him, she decided to take a page out of his book and stand at the window. “If you must,” she said sulkily, hugging her arms around herself. The silence grew thick and stretched out like warm taffy. She was about to turn around when she heard his voice, low and coarse.

  “It was but one look

  fleeting, small, gone in an instant

  but it was enough,

  enough for him to know.

  She was to be his absolute end.

  She was the rock

  that he would break himself against.”

  Her hands became small fists, twisting the fabric of her skirt. She never imagined how it would feel to hear the words that had sprung from her head being shaped by his mouth. Her thoughts were almost tactile, silky tendrils that reached out and caressed the small dips and crevices of her body, making her aware of every inch of her skin. She braced herself for the rest.

  “She was the flame, the pure fire

  that consumed him slowly,”

  Heavy, deliberate footsteps brought him closer to her. Her breath started to come out in rapid little pants. She let go of her skirt and gripped the window sash, her knuckles turning white as she felt the heat from his body so close to her.

  “leaving him nothing more

  than embers and ash.”

  The smell of his aftershave tickled her nose: sandalwood and leather. With one hand, he moved her hair so that it lay across one shoulder, exposing the back of her neck. His fingers traced patterns there, making her shudder.

  “It was enough, he knew.

  He was grateful…just to burn.”

  His lips were soft where they pressed against her skin. She gasped to feel his mouth open, tasting her. A wet heat ripped through her, and she moaned low in her throat. She turned, the bare skin of her arm sliding across the clean, silky front of his immaculate white shirt. She could feel the feverish heat of his chest beneath the fabric. It gratified her that his breathing was just as labored as her own.

  “What did you think?” she asked, slowly lifting her eyes to his own, her breath catching at what she saw there.

  “I think…you know then,” he said hoarsely. “How this feels. Every day.”

  Elizabeth reeled. She didn’t need to wait two more days. She could hardly stand to wait two more seconds. She reached out to brush a stray lock back from his forehead, but he caught her hand and kissed the delicate inside of her wrist.

  “Grateful, just to burn,” he said in a low whisper, his hot breath tickling her skin.

  “Will, I—”

  “Excuse me.”

  The sound at the door startled them so much that they both flinched, turning at the same time to see Mr. Bennet standing there, his normal wry amusement gone for the moment.

  “Papa!”

  Elizabeth greeted him more enthusiastically than usual, doing her best to downplay her discomposure. Darcy gave her a sidelong glance, his eyes sharp, before tu
rning to Mr. Bennet.

  “I see you’re hard at work here, Elizabeth June,” Mr. Bennet said, his eyes never leaving Darcy. Elizabeth stopped short, knowing she was in trouble with her father when he called her by her full name.

  Rather than face her father, she stooped and gathered the remaining papers off the floor.

  “I believe I can cross ‘poet’ off of my list of possible careers. I have no talent for it, so I’ll leave it to the professionals,” Elizabeth said, not looking up at either of the two men who were dearest in her heart.

  “And I believe you sell yourself short, Lizzie,” Darcy said from where he stood, eyes locked on Mr. Bennet.

  She stood, looking from her father to Darcy and back again. Neither paid her the slightest regard as, for all appearances, the two men were locked in a silent battle of wills.

  “Would you mind giving my office back, young lady?”

  “Of course, Papa,” she said uncertainly. She glanced at Darcy once more before turning to leave. She was at the door when his voice stopped her.

  “Lizzie, wait.” She turned to see him striding towards her, holding the formerly crumpled poem out to her. “You forgot this one.”

  As he took her left hand in his own, she was thankful that his broad back blocked her father from view. It was too humiliating to have a witness to the way she reacted to Darcy’s touch. His hand was warm and dry, his long fingers wrapping easily around her slender wrist. It may have been mere seconds, but it seemed to happen in slow motion. She felt his fingers slide from her wrist, down her lifeline, lingering on her ring finger. She didn’t dare speak or look up at him, but she couldn’t mistake the gentle squeeze he gave the base of that finger before putting the crumpled paper in her palm, closing her fingers around it.

  At last, she felt brave enough to lift her eyes, but all she saw was the back of his head. He’d already turned around.

  “Thank you,” she whispered, closing the door behind her as she left.

  Chapter Twenty

  First Presbyterian Church

  Meryton, South Carolina

  Georgiana paused outside the car. She looked over at the entrance to the church where her brother stood greeting guests in all his finery.

  She turned back to Richard who had sprawled himself across the front seat.

  “Aren’t you coming in?”

  “You go on ahead,” Richard said, pushing his sunglasses up his nose. “I’ll wait here.”

  “Richard…”

  “I’m waiting for something,” he said. “Don’t worry, Teach, I’ll be in class before the bell rings.”

  Georgiana made a frustrated sound in the back of her throat and stormed over to where her brother stood. A smile lit Darcy’s face when he saw her, and he opened his arms to give her a quick, affectionate hug.

  “There you are! I was worried you’d miss it.”

  “I’m almost sure someone meant for us to,” she said pointedly, looking back at the car. Darcy’s brow turned down into a troubled expression.

  “Will you go talk to him?” Georgiana pleaded.

  “I’m not sure it’s me that should talk to him,” Darcy said, wondering whether Elizabeth should be the one to draw that line. He sighed. “I’ll give it a shot.”

  ***

  As soon as Georgiana was out of sight, Richard reached under the seat and pulled out his flask. With a shaking hand, he unscrewed the cap and took a drink. It was beginning to be a problem, but he didn’t know how else he was going to get through this day.

  “Hello, Dick,” a voice said from outside the window. Richard sat up on his elbow, careful not to spill his flask.

  Richard smiled at his cousin. “Don’t you look fancy.” His own suit was wrinkled and hung loosely on him. He had lost weight.

  “Well, you look like shit,” Darcy said, returning his smile. They both felt a sense of calm, knowing they could never be anyone else but themselves when they were together. Darcy was confident that, no matter what, they would always be like brothers.

  Richard took another pull from his flask and handed it to Darcy. “Care for a nip?”

  Darcy waved it away with a laugh. “It’s a little early for me, but thanks.”

  Richard climbed out of the car, stashing the flask under the seat. He brushed off his suit, knowing it would do little good.

  “Old Charles Beastly couldn’t have gotten married back in D.C., I guess. I had to make this drive again.”

  Darcy snickered at their old nickname for Bingley. “It’s what Jane wanted, and you know Charles will go along with anything she asks for.”

  “Don’t pretend like you wouldn’t,” Richard said knowingly.

  Darcy averted his eyes. So maybe it would not always be exactly the same. “I’d hand her the keys to Pemberley right now if she asked for them.”

  Richard smiled and clapped his shoulder. “I’m glad to hear it.” He was surprised to find he meant it.

  ***

  “Oh Jane. All these years I’ve had to listen to people talk about what an angel you are, and today you really, truly are.” Elizabeth fought her tears valiantly, not wanting to ruin the makeup she’d so carefully applied.

  Jane was as radiant as the sun in her wedding dress of simple ivory satin. Her soft blonde curls hung loose; her only decoration was two gold combs that held her hair away from her face and a simple veil. It was all perfectly Jane. Elizabeth took her sister’s hands in her own, holding them against her pounding heart.

  “I love you so much, Jane. You’ve always been the best sister in the world to me. I am so happy that you and Charles found each other. I just know he’s going to make you so happy.”

  Jane, to her great surprise, hadn’t shed a tear all day. She beamed at Elizabeth, kissing her dearest sister’s cheek.

  “I love you too, Lizzie darling. And I think you’re right. He will make me happy.”

  “Or he’ll have me to answer to,” said their father, grumbling from behind them and making them laugh. They looked back to see him trying to smile, his own eyes moist.

  “Oh, Papa!” Jane embraced her father, who tolerated it longer than he normally might.

  “Yes, yes. Lizzie, I believe they’re playing our song. Doesn’t that mean it’s time for you to march?”

  Elizabeth kissed them each on the cheek one more time before stepping out of the foyer and into the church proper. She smiled at the family and friends that had gathered for the occasion. They were all there for the same reason, and Elizabeth thought she might burst from the love she felt in the room.

  Charlotte sat with her brother John. The other members of the Lucas family were noticeably absent. As she walked past them, The Gardiners and Jack Burchette sat in the second row with the Phillipses. Elizabeth reached out and took Jack’s hand briefly, giving it a squeeze. She smiled at Georgiana, sitting on the groom’s side with Richard. She gave a start at seeing him, but he didn’t look up at her, so she moved on.

  The biggest of her smiles she saved for Charles, her brother at last, and Darcy, who looked no less nervous than the groom. When his eyes met hers, she had to remind herself to walk slowly and come to stand next to Mary rather than leaping into his arms. She had never seen him so beautifully dressed, his unruly hair brushed back neatly away from his face. She had the urge to stand on tiptoe and muss it.

  As she reached the altar and took her place, she allowed her eyes to meet his again. He gave her a smile, small and peaceful, and Elizabeth felt herself returning it with one of her own before all eyes, theirs included, turned toward Jane.

  ***

  “Shall we?” Darcy held his hand out to Elizabeth.

  She looked at him skeptically. “Dance? With you?” Several couples, including the bride and groom, were already dancing. She put her small hand in his large one and allowed him to lead her onto the dance floor. He spoke low in her ear.

  “For you, I dance,” he said, making her laugh quietly. “Is that funny?”

  Elizabeth shivered at the low soun
d of his voice, the tickle of his breath on her skin. She tried to concentrate on the steps of the dance but he led her with practiced ease, his feet sure and steady. He was full of surprises.

  “Yes, very funny. Especially considering I’m just a country bumpkin, too plain-faced to dance with.”

  He looked down, his eyes burning into her.

  “You know, I had no idea what I was saying at the time.” His hand tightened on her hip. “I was angry at everyone that night.”

  “Even me?”

  “You most of all.”

  “Really?” she asked. “Without exchanging a single word with me? I’m very impressed with myself.”

  “I found you intriguing, though I didn’t recognize it for what it was at the time. You certainly got under my skin.”

  “Like a rash,” she said, nodding sagely. “You’re not the first person to have that sort of reaction to me.”

  Laughing quietly, he pressed his lips against her hair for a moment, surprising them both. They danced in silence for a few minutes, each trying to master their nerves, each wondering what the other was thinking. At length he found himself able to speak again.

  “We have an appointment today, Elizabeth.”

  “I haven’t forgotten.” True to her word, she had thought of little else.

  “When can we talk?”

  “A half hour?”

  “Ten minutes.”

  She laughed, shaking her head. “Do you always get your way?”

  “That remains to be seen.”

  ***

  “Well, look at you, sitting here all alone.”

  Richard looked up from his drink to see Caroline Bingley pouring herself into the chair next to his.

  Her spicy, expensive perfume flooded his nose. Like Caroline, it was a tad overpowering. A familiar bauble glittered around her neck. Richard would have recognized it anywhere. He’d bought it himself almost four years ago on King Street.

  He looked at Caroline with renewed interest. She was a cold beauty, to be sure, but her ruthless ambition impressed him. Richard hadn’t forgotten that Caroline had personally invited him to Bingley’s birthday party, no doubt after discovering the contents of the locket she now wore around her neck. He wondered at her motives now. Was she trying to make Elizabeth jealous? Or was she just hoping to create more chaos?