by Anna Harlow
By the time Mr. Bennet returned from Netherfield, Elizabeth was fully clothed and had joined the rest of the household in the parlor, where they were taking tea together. The look on his face was somewhat grave, but also quite determined in a way that told Elizabeth everything. Darcy had insisted on marrying Elizabeth, and her father, sensible to her reputation and the man’s consequence, had agreed.
“Elizabeth, do I need to speak to you privately?” he asked tiredly.
“You do not, sir,” she replied stoically. “I am well aware what must have transpired in the exchange. Yet, we need not speak of it here and now, surely? Darcy must be allowed to address me formally.”
“My dear, you must know that he cannot come here to do so,” said Mr. Bennet. “We shall follow Bingley’s advice, and send you and Jane to stay for a time at Netherfield. You are both good, sensible girls. I have no concern that either of you will get into mischief while you are there. To his credit, Elizabeth, Mr. Darcy did not even bother to ask me about your dowry.”
Mrs. Bennet scoffed. “Why should he? He’s got plenty of money of his own.”
“I shall give Elizabeth her due, nonetheless,” said Mr. Bennet sternly. “Let it not be said that I would take advantage of a generous man.”
Elizabeth sipped at her tea, trying for a calmness she did not feel. No, nor was it disappointment or fear that nudged at her. Her only thought was one which she ought to be ashamed of, but which somehow managed to comfort her. She could only wonder how soon it would be before Mr. Darcy once more wrapped his arms around her? When would their lips meet? And when would their tongues dance, as they had done last night?
And when, oh when would she finally discover what he meant by “something more”?
“Lizzy? I’ve asked three times now,” said Jane, nudging her. “Shall we not go upstairs and determine what manner of clothes to pack, and what projects we might wish to bring as well? I shall not wish to be sitting in the parlor at Netherfield with no needlepoint. I am certain you must feel the same.”
Elizabeth swallowed, hard. “Y-yes, Jane, you’re quite right,” she managed to say. “Though I dare say I shall be much employed with visiting the invalid. I cannot think he will want to always be left lying about alone all day.”
“Of course, we must make every effort to cheer him up,” Jane agreed. “I dare say the notion of soon taking another wife must please him, though. He cannot wish to remain single with a small child who is not a boy. He will certainly be in need of an heir.”
“As the gentleman himself has already pointed out,” Elizabeth replied, coloring slightly.
Jane’s eyes widened slightly as they headed for their shared bedroom. “Lizzy? I never would have thought it, but the look on your face begs me to ask—did you and Mr. Darcy do anything of a compromising nature last night? Is that why he is in such a hurry?”
Elizabeth laughed. “I hardly know how we could have done so, when his ankle pained him so much. I dosed him with laudanum several times, and my main goal was to keep the fire going. Truly, Jane, we did nothing worse than talk. Well, and he did give me a kiss good-night.”
Jane giggled. “You kissed a man? What was it like?”
Now Elizabeth smirked. “If you really want to know, perhaps you should try kissing Bingley. I am fairly certain he would be more than happy to oblige.”
She gasped. “Did he say anything to you?”
“Of course not, Jane, don’t be a ninny,” Elizabeth scolded her. “Mr. Bingley is not like to speak to me before he speaks to you. But truly, it is quite obvious to everyone that he is attracted to you. Now come on, let’s start packing some clothes. I do not believe we will be allowed much time before we are meant to go.”
Chapter Sixteen
When Bingley told Darcy that both Elizabeth and Jane would be coming to Netherfield to spend some time, such a mix of emotions assailed him as he had never experienced before. Sure, he had gotten permission to make an offer for Elizabeth from her father, but he had no notion whether or not the girl would receive it, or if she was just going through the motions. She may very well visit for a time and decide they did not suit, for all he knew.
That notion could not be pleasing, since the only thing he had been thinking of since he’d returned to Netherfield yesterday was the taste of Elizabeth’s sweet lips when she had allowed him to kiss her. Her submission to him was, in truth, the main thing that gave him hope, for her words certainly had not. She had begun by refusing outright, and ended with the assertion that she wished to marry for love.
Darcy was certain he could easily love Elizabeth, but how must she see him? Even in his wildest dreams, he could not believe himself capable of remaining on his best behavior in order to entice her. By turns, he could be playful, crass, moody, or downright morose, and there was little he could do to modify such a condition. Surely, she would soon discover it for herself. He could but hope she would accept him as he was.
Today, they were meant to arrive, and Darcy could not be sure if the thundering of his heart came from the laudanum he had been taking, or if he was far too excited as he awaited them. Though, considering the state of his emotions in the matter, he suspected it was the latter. Should he make his offer immediately, or give Elizabeth time to become more accepting of it first? Should they marry immediately, or wait until his leg was healed? If it was to take six weeks or longer, as the doctor had implied, he did not believe he could possibly survive.
“He is in here, Miss Bennet, no doubt waiting quite anxiously for another glimpse of you, to ascertain that you are not angry with him.”
Elizabeth scoffed. “If anyone would be angry, sir, it ought to be him. He is the one with the injury, and that injury has forced his hand. For, even if he was inclined toward me to begin with, as you say, he cannot have meant to offer for me after so little time to become acquainted.”
The door opened, admitting Bingley and both sisters. In the background, Jane cast Darcy a look of sympathy, but wisely did not yet move forward, choosing instead to remain with Bingley by the door.
“I heard what you were saying just now, my dear,” Darcy admonished Elizabeth, though with good humor. “I take leave to point out that I have, myself, already indicated my interests in the matter. Do not pity me for a forced hand any longer. I am well pleased with the bargain.”
Elizabeth blushed. “Forgive me, sir, I had no notion such a grand house should sport such a thin door.”
“We shall have no secrets from each other, Elizabeth,” he told her. “That is one sure way to grow in love—to know each other’s minds implicitly. But I have yet to make your father’s permission into an official offer, my dear. I feel perhaps you would wish to settle in first, meet my daughter and my sister, maybe spend some more time together so that we are easy in the decision.”
“Sir, would it not be better to get past the formality?” Elizabeth pointed out. “If we have it between us unresolved, how should we be easy during that time of waiting? I am not pleased with the manner in which we must begin, but I wish to be more accepting of it, and I cannot be comfortable spending time alone with you, if we have no understanding.”
Darcy smiled. “Intelligent, beautiful, sensible, and impatient. Will you ever cease to amaze me, my dear?”
Elizabeth chuckled. “Let us hope not, sir.”
“Do you wish for us to leave you alone now?” Bingley wanted to know.
“Perhaps, for a while,” said Darcy with a determined nod.
“Yes, please do,” Elizabeth added, her tone slightly breathless despite her obvious desire to appear unruffled. Her eyes met Darcy’s, and the two of them gazed at one another briefly until the door had closed.
“Elizabeth, come here,” Darcy said to her. She moved, slowly at first, until she was standing near the end of the sofa upon which his head rested. Shakily, she got down onto her knees so they could more easily see each other. Or kiss each other, as the case may be.
“I am here, sir,” she said after what seem
ed like an eternity. “What would you do with me?”
Darcy smiled. “What I would do with you, Miss Lizzy, is not to be accomplished here.”
“Mr. Darcy, why must you continue to tease me?”
“Until this leg proves less inconvenient, and we have spoken our vows, it is all that is allowed me,” he grumbled. “That, and another taste of your mouth, my sweet.”
“Is that your design, sir, in positioning me thus?” she asked with amusement.
“It is,” he said, nodding. “Yet, I will not take what I want from you, until first I have given you what you asked for. Miss Elizabeth Bennet, will you consent to be my bride?”
She took a deep, trembling breath. “I will, sir.”
Darcy’s hand came up behind her neck, tugging her. Elizabeth toppled over, landing on his chest with a little gasp. Before she could even properly chuckle, his lips had already found hers. Knowing he had her full consent now, he did not hold back this time as his lips plundered hers. She opened for him, and the sweet, full kiss they savored together was very close to his undoing. Leg or no leg, he needed more of her.
Though he did not wish to frighten her, neither did Darcy want Elizabeth to be in any doubt of his ardor. He hauled her more fully on top of him, releasing her mouth long enough for her nervous laughter to meet his ears, settling her so that her bum was on his lap. He sat up, trailing his hands slowly down the sides of her arms. His lips found purchase along the side of her neck.
“Oh!” she gasped, surprised at the sensation he evoked. Her hands flew up, pressing into his chest. It was certain, from where she sat, that she must feel the beginnings of his hardness. When she squirmed, he held her fast, not allowing her to avoid the discovery even for a moment.
“Do you begin to take my meaning, love?” he asked, smiling at her.
“You are indeed a rogue, sir!” she scolded him breathlessly.
“A rogue only for you,” he corrected. “I am not the kind of man who would ever betray your faith and trust.”
Elizabeth’s blush deepened. He could see clearly enough that he had her hypnotized. How unfortunate it was, then, that they should be within a room anyone could enter, and not yet have the distinction of a ring on her finger! Would that it could be that time, months from now, when they would be legally bound together, and could behave in any manner.
“Sir, while I admit to a definite enjoyment of this proximity, do you not feel we should be more circumspect upon this occasion? I am certain Bingley and Jane intended to depart for a few minutes only. And you must know, this behavior speaks well for enjoying the process of getting an heir someday, but it surely is not our minds that are currently meeting.”
Darcy laughed as he released her. “Elizabeth, you darling girl, how often you manage to amuse me! But, if we must behave ourselves, there can be but one cure for my current affliction. I do not think I could feel quite so amorous in a room with my daughter and my sister. We must have them come down here, and help to fill the place. For, there can be no better remedy for desire than the antics of a child.”
“I long to meet both of them, sir,” Elizabeth admitted. “I shall discover Bingley’s whereabouts, and let him know.”
“I’ll be right here,” he said, rolling his eyes. “Whether I want to be or not.”
“Poor Darcy,” she sighed, ruffling her fingers through his hair.
“Go now, my dear, or I shall draw you closer still.”
Elizabeth giggled as he pretended to grab for her. She scurried toward the door. Darcy’s smile was electric as he savored the sweet sound.
Chapter Seventeen
Elizabeth stepped out into the hall and came across one of the maids. She was quick to lead her to another parlor, where Mr. Bingley and Jane were joined by a maid who was clearly there so the pair would not be sitting alone. “Miss Elizabeth has come out looking for you, sir.”
“Is everything well, Lizzy?” Jane asked her.
Blushing and smiling shyly, Elizabeth said, “I am engaged.”
“Of course you are,” she said happily. “Bingley has been spending all this time trying to reassure me that Mr. Darcy will make you a wonderful husband. Such tales I have heard of his generosity and charity, as to make me wonder if they could possibly all be true.”
“They are, madam, I assure you,” Bingley insisted. “Darcy is among the best of men.”
“He wishes for me to meet Miss Darcy and his daughter, sir, as soon as may be.”
“That can be accomplished with no great difficulty,” said Bingley, shrugging. “Phillips? Thank you for bringing Elizabeth to me, but you must return her to the other parlor, and then call down Miss Georgiana. Please ask her to also bring Francesca.”
“Very good, Mr. Bingley,” said the maid, bobbing a curtsey as she turned away. “Back this way, miss, if you please.”
“Will you not join us as well?” Elizabeth asked them before she turned to leave.”
“Oh yes,” Bingley agreed. “We shall be there directly.”
When she entered the parlor again, Elizabeth found that Darcy had arranged himself into a more upright position, but the blanket he had been using had slipped down out of his reach. She deftly picked it up and covered him again.
“Bingley and Jane shall join us directly, and a maid has gone to request that your sister bring down the baby,” she told him, smiling. Even before she’d finished with her explanation the door opened, admitting her sister and Mr. Bingley, who arranged themselves together on one of the settees.
“Why have we not seen Miss Bingley this evening, sir?” asked Elizabeth curiously.
“She is off to London for a week with our other sister, Mrs. Hurst,” Bingley explained. “But she is expected back sometime tomorrow, for the dinner party is in just another four days, and she must return to plan for it. Although, in light of Darcy’s injury, perhaps we ought to cancel.”
“You must do nothing of the sort,” Darcy told him. “I will not let it be said of me that I ruined your dinner, sir. With a bit of help and a seat at the end of the table, I may even be able to join the party for a while.”
“And it is certain our sisters should be well pleased to finally see the interior of this old building,” Jane added. “You know we have all longed for a glimpse ever since we were small.”
This sentiment was not further expounded on because the door opened once more. A pert, pretty young blonde woman stepped through, and smiled warmly at them. Behind her, another woman appeared. She carried one child, and another one followed behind her.
“Well, the little one I am sure to know, but who is this fine fellow?” asked Elizabeth, hunkering down so she was more at his level.
“That is my son, John, madam,” said the woman. “I’ve just managed to wean him, but he must still remain with me. And this little cherub is none other than Miss Francesca Darcy. One or the other of you will want to take her, ere the other child finds his legs.”
Elizabeth laughed as, true to his mother’s prediction, young John had soon darted across the room and was in danger of knocking over the table where Darcy’s serving tray still sat with a small plate of scones.
“Here now, only one, or you will spoil your dinner!” his mother called after him.
“Mrs. Avery has her hands full,” said Miss Darcy with a chuckle as she went to retrieve the boy. “And with such an adventurous companion around, I hold out little hope where Francesca is concerned. She is sure to pick up these wild antics herself.”
“Yes, Darcy has told me that she has yet to walk,” said Elizabeth.
“I have seen her stand up, but she has yet to move forward,” Georgiana confirmed.
“Miss Darcy, you have a look about you that seems almost as mischievous as your father’s,” Elizabeth told the child after receiving her from the wet nurse. “Francesca is a lovely name, but when we are at home, it shall never do. Oh no, my dear, not at all. If I have any say in it, we shall have to call you Fanny.”
The little girl gigg
led with delight at this concept, her intelligent eyes comprehending Elizabeth quite fully
“Darcy? I think your daughter likes me!” she announced, smiling.
“Soon to be your daughter, too, Lizzy,” he reminded her, his smile at the notion brilliant to behold. “I might have known children would also find you enchanting. I have never seen her go straight into the arms of a person she’s never seen. Would you please bring her over to see me?”
“Of course, Mr. Darcy,” she agreed, stepping over.
“Mr. Darcy?” Georgiana scoffed. “What nonsense is this? If you are to be married, surely it would be better for you to call him Will.”
“I had not heard anyone use that name, where he is concerned,” Elizabeth admitted, blushing.
