by J Dawn King
To Elizabeth, she noticed for the first time the chocolate warmth of his eyes as she saw where his gaze dwelt. Her body reacted automatically. She sucked the bottom corner of her lip into her mouth and slowly let it out, not realizing the affect it would have on him until she heard his sharp intake of breath.
It was an impossible feat for her to not be touched by the depth of his admiration. That he would put her interests before someone that he had been in company with for years, someone with all of the accomplishments of a lady of the ton, dowered with twenty-thousand pounds, was incredible to her. Finally, the scales that had blinded her to the worth of this man fell from her eyes and she clearly saw what was before her. She did not love him; yet, her heart was far more engaged than she had anticipated. Now, she longed to bring him comfort.
“Sir, it appeared to me that your first reaction was to protect me, even before you replied to Miss Bingley. Your actions and your words were just. They served to clearly proclaim to me where your heart is. I saw that principled man that you spoke of in action, Mr. Darcy. Because of this, I am assured that you would have the respect and admiration of your father in the same way you have mine.”
Her words startled him, almost knocking the wind from him. He was afraid that he was delusional, that he could not have heard her correctly.
“You admire me?” He had to ask. He had to know.
“I do.”
Darcy reached over and clasped her hand to his, palm to palm, just as he had earlier desired.
“So, Miss Elizabeth, you admire me and I admire you.” He spoke slowly, savoring the words. They sounded like a beautiful melody that gets caught in your brain so that it repeats over and over until you can think of nothing else. Boldly he continued. “Miss Elizabeth, I am an impatient man. If you allow me to have my way and to direct the events in our future, we will be wed and at my home, Pemberley, within the month.” He chuckled as he saw her wordlessly shaking her head back and forth, her gaze never breaking contact with his.
“I move too fast, my dear?”
“Oh yes, sir, you do.” She smiled slightly as she replied. Her tone was firm, but cushioned in softness; silk and iron.
“Then may I speak to your father about a courtship, Miss Elizabeth?” He squeezed her hand gently as her eyes had drifted down to their joined hands. At this she looked back up to his face.
“No, Mr. Darcy, you may not.”
His disappointment was immediate. At her not-so-gentle squeeze, he looked back up at her.
“I believe that it is the practice of a gentleman to request permission of the lady first. Is that not correct?”
He spied the twinkle and then the smile.
He agreed. And then he asked.
CHAPTER SEVEN – CHERISHED
Once he had Elizabeth’s acceptance, Darcy wasted no time deciding to ride to Longbourn immediately to get permission from Mr. Bennet. However, his mental momentum stopped in the same manner that a rolling ball stopped against a brick wall. Should he leave the library, there might not be an opportunity to be left alone again until they married; if indeed, she would accept him when he asked. His desire for her close company was far more than his desire for Mr. Bennet’s company. Darcy would speak with him on the morrow.
“Mr. Darcy, you have to know that had you smiled at me the first night, as you are smiling at me now, I would have accepted your offer of courtship with haste.” He had been the most striking man at the Meryton assembly. Darcy’s height, his garments, and his carriage proclaimed his elevated position in society before he had ever opened his mouth. However, open his mouth he had. Elizabeth looked at the man next to her and compared him to the gentleman she had been introduced to that night. Was he even the same man? He was not.
“Is that so, Miss Elizabeth?” Darcy was unaware that Elizabeth could see the boyish mischief sparkling from his dark eyes. “Then I shall smile at you at least once each day for the rest of our days on earth. Furthermore, we shall be declared the happiest man and woman in all of England. Our friends and acquaintances will bow to our affability and charm.”
Elizabeth could hear the laugher in his voice. “Not our condescension?” Who was this playful man?
“Condescension? Me?” Darcy drew back with his hand to his chest and his eyebrows raised as if he was horrified that that particular quality was in any way associated with his name. Then he laughed; really laughed.
Elizabeth gazed upon him in wonder, shaking her head back and forth with a smile on her face. She had assumed, prior to this time in the library that Darcy did not like to get his feathers ruffled nor engage in displays of emotion. He had appeared to be a man of routine who staunchly wielded a shield between him and all but a select few. That he would allow her to see him unmasked and vulnerable let her know how treasured she would be if their courtship followed the path to its end result— marriage. She was a born feather-ruffler. Darcy had to know what he was getting into and she was more than pleased to know that he knew how to share in her joy.
Darcy knew he was smiling too much. They were now sitting side-by-side on the settee and he thought to return to his more dignified appearance. However, as soon as he made the attempt, he observed small frown lines between Elizabeth’s brows. He smiled and the lines went away. Darcy knew then that he wanted nothing hidden between them. For the first time in his adult life, he would be able to relax with someone other than Richard. Even with Bingley, he needed to always keep his emotions regulated. Being in Charles Bingley’s company was like trying to corral a puppy. By the end of the day he was usually worn to a frazzle; not that he would ever admit to such, of course.
He opened his mouth to declare his love to his dearest and was amazed at what came out.
“Do you know that spending the day with Bingley wears me to a frazzle?” Darcy’s eyes opened wide and his jaw dropped. What had happened here?
Elizabeth put her hand to her mouth and giggled. It was a delightful refrain.
“I am pleased that you would share that information with me, Mr. Darcy. While I do not have a clue as to why you felt the need, I will be able to reassure my sister of Mr. Bingley’s playfulness should she desire to know.”
She was laughing at him and for the first time, Darcy did not mind.
“I had just determined not to mention that particular fact when it popped out of my mouth.” He shook his head in wonder. “I have never been so unrestrained in my speech, Miss Elizabeth, but since I am, I would like to ask permission to call you by name when we are alone. I am aware that propriety demands that we wait until an official engagement. However, you have long been Elizabeth in my mind. I now doubt that my tongue, which seems to be unhinged, will cooperate with such a restriction. It is my hope that you give me permission to have this privilege.”
Elizabeth’s attraction to this man was growing minute by minute. It no longer amazed her that normal courting couples took so long to come to an agreement when they were never left alone to converse properly and with such thoroughness. This time together was a blessing.
“You may call me Elizabeth, sir.” She tilted her head to her shoulder slightly and raised a brow. “And what might I be allowed to call you, Mr. Darcy?”
“Certainly, Mr. Darcy when we are in company. Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy when you are upset with me. Fitzwilliam when I am distracted, and you need my attention and William when we are alone or with my close family.” He spoke slowly, his baritone voice a low rumble in his chest. Darcy squeezed the hand he had been holding since they had moved to the settee, stroking his thumb across her wrist.
“This I can do, William.” She leaned her head a bit towards him and heard his sharp intake of breath. “I am called Lizzy by my family and childhood friends. I am Elizabeth Bennet when I have been caught doing something that I should not. And, I am Eliza to Miss Bingley.” Her voice dropped to a whisper. “And when I call you my Will, what shall you call me in return?”
Darcy was having a hard time getting air into his lungs. He felt his
chest burning with the effort. He moved his head just a few inches forward and tilted it to the opposite side of hers. Their mouths were only a breath away.
“I will call you mine.” He closed the distance. As his lips softly rested on hers, his heart pounded fiercely and noise thundered in his ears. It was but a moment before he realized that it was not his body responding to the kiss that was making the noise, it was the footman outside the door of the library tapping on the door and clearing his throat to get his attention.
Darcy pulled away and leaped over to the chair across from the settee as Charles Bingley sauntered into the library. All looked as it should be. Well, almost. The color on both Darcy and Elizabeth’s faces was rosy and both were breathing shallowly. They hoped that Bingley would fail to notice.
“Say, Darcy.” Bingley began, completely unaware of Elizabeth’s presence or the fact that both her and Darcy’s faces were bright red in embarrassment. “You do not happen to know what happened to Caroline, do you? The staff has reported to Mrs. Nicholls that she has been ranting something about Miss Elizabeth and you and me never becoming brothers and possibly having strong arms. Do you know what she might be talking about?”
When Darcy glanced at Elizabeth, Bingley’s eyes followed and he became aware that she was also in the library. He completely missed the fact that neither occupant was holding a book— an odd occurrence for the room they were in.
“Miss Elizabeth, I apologize for interrupting your reading. Please forgive my rambling.” He turned to his friend. “Darcy, might I have a word in private in my study?”
It suddenly occurred to Elizabeth that she was not as much unlike Caroline Bingley as she had surmised. How horrifying! While she had considered Miss Bingley to be as dense as a stump, Elizabeth realized that she had been just as clueless. Caroline was completely unable to determine that Darcy had no interest in pursuing her for a wife. That he was interested in her, Elizabeth had not determined either. Elizabeth shuddered at the thought. Being in concert with Caroline Bingley was not something to be proud of.
“No, Bingley, I do not think that we need to have this conversation in private. Miss Elizabeth observed all that occurred, and you may need to hear her testimony to corroborate my explanation.”
Before he had seated himself in the other chair, Bingley started with an apology. “Darcy, I can only imagine what might have happened if Caroline thought you were in here alone. She has not been subtle in her desires and I have done nothing to curb her pursuit of you. I apologize.”
Bingley was his closest friend outside of his family. He was an amiable man who rarely found fault with anyone. While this was a perfect foil for Darcy’s reticence, it left Bingley vulnerable to being controlled by a strong, demanding personality such as Caroline displayed. Darcy had long wished that his friend would take his errant sister under control, but he realized that the fault did not solely lie with Bingley. Why had their parents not disciplined her and counseled her in her formative years? Why had Caroline not applied herself to becoming a woman worthy of admiration, rather than demanding respect and adulation from those she deemed below her?
With horrifying clarity, Darcy thought of his own conduct at Meryton. Was he really any different than Caroline Bingley? He shuddered at the thought. It was no wonder Elizabeth had not been aware of his interest. Am I worthy of her?
“Bingley, your sister’s conduct was unseemly and her attempt to compromise me into offering for her a failure. My heart is already engaged.” He looked at Elizabeth as he spoke.
Though Bingley may act foolish at times, he was not a fool. He could now see what he had not noticed before. He thought back on the conversations of the past few days between the couple and realized that Darcy was not repulsed by Elizabeth Bennet. He was in love with her.
“I did not know, Darcy. I wish you joy.”
Bingley’s words hit Darcy like a blow. The woman he loved had not known of his affections and his best friend had been taken completely unaware. He did not deserve her.
Elizabeth could see that something was disturbing Darcy, so she thanked Bingley for his kind words. When she saw Darcy’s head drop down and heard his deep sigh, she knew that she needed to do something to mend the situation.
“Mr. Bingley, these feelings are very new to us and my inclination is to hold them close to my heart for now. While we are delighted that you share in our happiness, we would hope that, for now, you would not share this information with anyone else.” Though she was looking at Bingley, she saw Darcy lift his head and place his gaze directly on her. At Bingley’s reassurance she continued. “What you have long known about Mr. Darcy, I am now able to discern. He is a man of integrity and loyalty. Though he tries to hide his goodness and his kind heart, it has now been revealed to me. All of the components that make him a good friend to you have made him a man that I desire to know better.”
Darcy’s heart, which had started to ache, now rejoiced. He knew enough of Elizabeth to know that she would not exaggerate her feelings just to ease a situation or make someone feel better. She spoke the truth as she knew it. The comfort he felt was immense.
Bingley stood and gave them a short bow. “Then I will leave you to do so.” With that he moved to leave the library.
Before he even reached the doorway, Darcy moved back to the settee, gathered Elizabeth in his arms, and showed her just how loved and cherished he felt.
CHAPTER EIGHT – CONCLUSION
Neither Darcy nor Elizabeth was aware of how much time passed while they were engaged in expressing their tender affections. Darcy had barely drawn away from her with the need to breathe when the need to feel her lips against his moved him back into his now favorite position. The cough of the footman alerted Darcy that, not only was someone approaching, their time was passing and the minutes alone in the library were quickly coming to an end.
At Mrs. Nicholls’s entrance to remove the tea tray, Darcy determined that the footman that had attended them so well from his post outside the library door, needed rewarded for his diligence and discretion. Might there be a place for him at Pemberley or Darcy House in town?
While the cups and saucers were being replaced on the tray, Darcy allowed himself a moment of fantasy. Her taste had been delicious. It called to mind the first time he had tasted the sweet juiciness of an orange. He had been eight years old when his father had brought a crate of the fruit home from the docks in London. The smell was enticing. Darcy had not known what to make of the peeled sections as he ate them as fast as he could push them into his mouth. His mother had laughed at him as he told her that it was the best taste in the world. Now he knew better. His Elizabeth was far more delectable.
As soon as the servants left the room, Darcy stood to move back to the settee. He was stunned when Elizabeth put her hand out, palm up, stopping him. When he continued moving forward, she moved her head from side to side and pointed the index finger of that same hand at him, shaking it vigorously. He sat. He felt like he was eight years old again, being denied any more oranges after the last one had been devoured.
“Mr. Darcy.” Darcy was not yet confident in her affections, so he was unusually anxious about what she had to say. “We have before us an opportunity. While I enjoyed how we spent the past moments, there is still much that we should discuss since we still have some time undisturbed. Do you not agree?”
He wanted to scream, “NO!” He wanted more time. He wanted more kisses. He wanted her to wrap her arms around his neck and play with the back of his hair again. However, she was right, they needed to talk.
His brain was on idle. His mind was more agreeably engaged. She said my kisses were enjoyable! He must have been smiling like a fool because Elizabeth had to start off the topic of conversation.
“William, I do believe that you will catch my father completely by surprise when you talk to him in the morning. I had not been shy in proclaiming my earlier dislike of you.” When she saw Darcy stiffen in displeasure, she hurried to continue. “While you are
aware that my feelings have undergone a complete reversal, my father is not. Have you given any thought to what you will say?”
In truth, he had not. This whole situation was so new to him. He was decisive in business because he took the time to think through all of the possibilities before acting. In this undertaking with Elizabeth, all he could think of was achieving the end goal: that of making her his wife. It was easy for him to imagine life with her at Pemberley, the halls suddenly noisy with children’s’ laughter and the care they would give each other with advancing age. Nevertheless, without Elizabeth’s father’s blessing, there would be no wedding. She would not be free to marry without it until she reached her majority, which could be months away.
“The twentieth of June I will reach my majority,” Elizabeth inserted as if she could read his thoughts.
He was beyond pleased that she could follow his thinking in some matters to their logical conclusion. It boded well for the future. She would be the perfect Mistress of Pemberley and keeper of his heart.
“Then, might I suggest that you write to your father tonight while you sit with your sister, Jane. I can take your missive with me tomorrow for him to read before I plead my case.” At her nod, he added, “Elizabeth, I will not leave his presence until I have his permission. I will do whatever it takes to secure it.”
She chuckled. “Then you had better whisper your intentions to my mother on your way into Father’s study. Then, and only then, will you be able to consider the matter accomplished.”
Darcy had never imagined any circumstance where he would be pleased with Mrs. Bennet’s propensity for matchmaking. She was a silly woman whose vulgar praise of his income in public had firmly set him against her. Yet, Elizabeth knew her parents well and all of his years practicing battle strategy with his cousin, the colonel, aided him to discern the strength in numbers. With Elizabeth’s letter and Mrs. Bennet on his side, one man could not possibly stand against him.
