A Pemberley Medley (A Pride & Prejudice Variation)

by Abigail Reynolds

  This is a poor beginning indeed! thought Elizabeth.

  “I believe he is here to see me,” she said evenly.

  “What nonsense you talk, Lizzy! Why would he come to see you? We all know what he thinks of you!” cried Mrs. Bennet.

  Elizabeth shrugged lightly, for all the world as if she did not know the explosion which was to follow her words. “Perhaps, but he did ask at Jane’s wedding for my permission to call on me; and I gave it.”

  The effect of her words was most extraordinary; for on hearing them, Mrs. Bennet sat quite still, and unable to utter a syllable. She was not in general backward to credit what was for the advantage of her family, or that came in the shape of a lover to any of them, but it was many minutes while Elizabeth waited in agony for Darcy’s appearance until she could comprehend it.

  Her sisters were not so slow. “Not Mr. Darcy!” cried Lydia. “Lizzy, you must be joking! Lord, he is so dull, and we all know of the infamous way he treated dear Mr. Wickham!”

  “He is too proud to speak to the likes of us!” added Kitty, laughing at the very idea.

  Elizabeth could only hope that their manners would be improved by the time Mr. Darcy was done with her father. She kept a closer eye on her mother, who was still fanning herself and gazing at Elizabeth in shock. She had certainly hoped to have more time than this to acquaint her family with the idea.

  Finally the dam broke on Mrs. Bennet’s words. “Good gracious! Lord bless me! only think! dear me! oh, Lizzy, why did you say nothing? Your hair, your gown... but it is too late, we can only hope - Oh! my sweetest Lizzy! I am so pleased - so happy.”

  She clearly would have continued for some time in this vein, had not Elizabeth interrupted to say, “He asked only to call, no more; and he will no doubt be here any minute. Please, can we speak of something else?”

  “Oh, Lord!” cried her mother, fidgeting about in her chair. “Of course he will be here. Mary, Kitty, Lydia - you must go upstairs - no, you must go to Meryton! Yes, Meryton will do - and my dear, dear Lizzy!” She came to Elizabeth and pinched her cheeks to bring colour to them, hardly a necessary task at the moment, and to smooth her hair. “Oh, it will have to do, but why did you not warn me, Lizzy? Such a charming man! So handsome, so tall!”

  “There is no account for sending my sisters away,” objected Elizabeth, who could not help being amused as she recalled the same ploy being used on Jane.

  “Oh, there most certainly is!” Mrs. Bennet waved her hands at the younger girls, urging them on to a hasty departure.

  Elizabeth could only imagine with embarrassment what Mr. Darcy would make of this scene. She hoped desperately that her mother’s effusions would be over by the time he came, though she was also beginning to worry about what might be keeping Mr. Darcy so long with her father. And the implications of what it meant that he was talking to her father was not something she was ready to consider.

  At that moment the two gentlemen appeared. Elizabeth’s eyes flew immediately to Darcy, and she was a little relieved by his smile. Not even her worries about her parents’ want of propriety could stop the burst of pleasure she felt on seeing him, and he seemed reassured by her appearance as well.

  Her father sent her an amused look, and said dryly, “Well, Lizzy, it seems that Mr. Darcy has ridden all the way from London today to see you.” He clearly anticipated that this would come as quite a shock to her.

  “I hope it was a pleasant ride, sir,” she said calmly. “Would you care to sit?”

  Mr. Bennet, taken aback, quickly excused himself as Darcy paid his respects to Mrs. Bennet and then to Elizabeth.

  It was an uncomfortable moment; Elizabeth had never considered what she might say in these circumstances. She asked after his sister, who he reassured her was in excellent health, and about his stay in town. To Elizabeth’s great relief, her mother luckily stood in such awe of their guest that she ventured not to speak to him, unless it was in her power to offer him any attention, or mark her deference for his opinion. This formal conversation continued for some time, with too much discomfort on the part of the main participants to do more than allow their eyes to meet on occasion, until Mrs. Bennet remembered that she was wanted elsewhere. Elizabeth rolled her eyes at the blatancy of this maneuver, but knew there was no use in protest.

  Once they were alone, Darcy looked at her with great warmth. “Elizabeth,” he said, his voice replete with feeling. She coloured, and dropped her eyes in embarrassment, a pointless effort since he took advantage of the moment to take her hand in his and raise it to his lips. The sensation produced by his kiss seemed to race down her arm like electricity, leaving her momentarily speechless. He asked tentatively, “You have not changed your mind?”

  She responded to him with an arch smile. “Not in the last weeks; although we both have reason to know, sir, that my opinions are not entirely unalterable, I do not intend to change them again. But you are before your time, Mr. Darcy.”

  His smile slowly grew at her teasing. “Before I respond to that, let me ask you this: how long do we have before your mother returns?” He had not relinquished her hand, a state of affairs which she was finding surprisingly distracting.

  Elizabeth felt a lurch inside at his words. “We have all the time in the world - were it within my mother’s power, I am sure she would post armed guards at the door to make sure we are not disturbed.” She glanced at him quickly to see how he took this additional evidence of impropriety on her family’s part, but he seemed not in the least displeased.

  “You should, perhaps, not have told me that,” he said, but his tone implied quite the opposite. “But I will take the time to answer your question then - I came early because I wanted to see you. I realized that the only reason to delay was so that I could court you without bringing it to public notice, and I decided to risk the possible embarrassment of having you refuse me publicly if it meant I did not need to wait out two very long months.”

  “And you decided to begin with my father?” she asked mischievously.

  He looked slightly embarrassed. “I thought that if I was to be open about this, I might as well do it properly; so I asked his permission to call on you. He seemed ... quite stunned.”

  She coloured at the implied question. “I thought it best not to mention the possibility, in case you were to change your mind.”

  “I, change my mind?” he said in a surprised voice. “I cannot imagine why you would think that.”

  She looked down. “What may occur in the heat of the moment may not always be what might be wished for in a moment of more sober reflection.”

  This comment was met by silence. Finally, in a carefully neutral voice, Darcy said, “What is it that you have wished for in your moments of sober reflection?”

  She gave him a sidelong glance with a smile. “Surely, Mr. Darcy, you cannot expect me to answer that question!”

  “You have not regretted it?”

  With a teasing look, she said, “No, I have not; but I believe I have already told you that, sir.”

  His relief was so great that he acted without thought, catching her face in his hand and caressing her lips with his for a mere moment. “Then do not say such things!” He had clearly startled her with his behaviour, and he cursed himself and his lack of self-control.

  Elizabeth was experiencing the shock of sensation that came with his touch. It had been all too brief, yet she knew she should not have allowed it in the first place. “What should I say, then?” she asked archly.

  Darcy drew in a quick breath. Was she flirting with him? If so, he would need to be very careful indeed; he was by no means certain of his self-control when she looked at him like that. Choosing his words with care, he said, “While there are a great number of things I should like to hear you say, I think that we both know what you should say, and it involves reproaching me for my behaviour.”

  She smiled as if at some inner joke. “I cannot disagree, though I would have to admit that I am a few weeks late in saying it.”
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  He was beginning to see that there were flaws in his earlier reasoning that a gradual wooing, giving her time to truly get to know him, was the best option. “Be careful, Elizabeth,” he said softly. “You do not know how you tempt me.”

  Elizabeth had a strong impulse to ask him to tell her just how she did tempt him, but she checked herself, reminding herself of how her liveliness had led her astray with him in the past. She wished she knew what was in his mind; he evidently did not intend to propose to her yet, though he must know from her behaviour that she would not refuse - could not, after allowing him to kiss her, not just once, but several times without protest. Perhaps he was not as certain of his choice as he appeared. He had spoken of the possibility of his embarrassment if she refused him - but was there anything to stop him from changing his mind, leaving her to face the humiliation of being jilted? The very thought was painful enough; she resolved to be less forward, and to remember that he had by no means made a commitment.

  Darcy saw her smile fade somewhat, and berated himself anew, realizing that once again he had gone too far. He reminded himself yet again that the behaviour she had permitted during a moment of distress was likely to be unacceptable in a calmer frame of mind. Unfortunately, his desperate desire to taste her lips again was such as to keep countering his rational mind, and that slight contact had not been enough to do more than to whet his need for her.

  He was a man torn; he wanted a return of her teasing smiles and flirtatious looks, but he knew how very effectively they would undermine his restraint. “Eliz....Miss Bennet,” he said, “I must throw myself on your mercy. I want.... I would like to give you time to come to know me. My ability to be patient, however, is not what it ought to be where you are concerned; and most especially when you are... welcoming to me. You do not know the effect you have on me. Please understand if I need to keep a certain distance in order to maintain a standard of behaviour.”

  A sense of relief filled Elizabeth at his words. “I do not object,” she said gently, “if you wish to call me by my name when we are alone.”

  He expelled his breath slowly. Any other woman he would have assumed to have misunderstood him, but this was Elizabeth - had she failed to take his meaning, or was she challenging him? “You are very kind.”

  Elizabeth looked at him sympathetically. She knew how difficult it would have been for her to restrain her happiness at seeing him, and he had waited longer for her and had more reason to be uncertain of his reception at her hands. He was once again reassuring her of his intentions, yet he had clearly decided not to take advantage of her earlier permissive behaviour to stake a claim to her, as he could have so easily - she could not have denied that she had allowed him to take liberties with her. “It seems rather too late,” she said carefully, “for me to be Missish, and I would prefer not to try.” She could hardly be more obvious than that, and she waited anxiously to see his reaction.

  It seemed an unconscionably long time before he took her words in, and even then he appeared not to quite credit them. “I do not want to rush you,” he said uncertainly.

  She considered telling him directly that he was not rushing her, but decided she could not be so impossibly forward, even given his obvious provocation. She limited herself to giving him an eloquent look in flagrant disregard of his request for distance.

  His face remained unreadable for a moment, then she discovered a new light in his eyes, one which made her tremble. His hand reached up and caressed her cheek, then brushed across her neck to finally cradle her chin. “Elizabeth,” he said, his voice slightly unsteady, “This would be a good time to tell me to stop.”

  She gave him a mischievous look. “I have taken your opinion into account, sir.”

  A trace of a smile crossed his face. He leaned toward her slowly until his lips caressed hers lightly. The experience was every bit as pleasurable as he recalled. “My sweetest, loveliest Elizabeth,” he whispered before kissing her once again.

  If Elizabeth had thought the experience of his kiss was powerful when she was despairing, it was nothing to the shivering tendrils of desire that it sent through her now, when their understanding was quite different. The feelings were new to her, and rather startling in their intensity; but she trusted Darcy, and would not let her own reaction frighten her.

  Darcy, feeling his control beginning to slip, drew back slightly, gazing with great pleasure into her lovely eyes. Her kisses had been both very exciting and remarkably sweet, and had only increased his longing to ask even more of her, but he knew she had already been unreasonably generous with him. He did not think he could stop himself from kissing her again - no, the truth was that he felt absolutely no desire to stop himself, no matter how much he reminded himself of the dangers inherent in such behaviour. “Perhaps if you do not think it a good time to tell me to stop, you might consider it a good time to tell me that you will be my wife,” he said.

  His words astonished him; until he began to speak, he had no intention of proposing to her again so quickly, but it seemed his desire for her was to be expressed one way or another. He awaited her response with an anxious agony, ready to withdraw his words at her slightest evidence of discomfort.

  Her eyes danced. “Very well, if you insist, sir,” she said; then, quickly recognizing this was not a teasing matter for him, she added, “I should be quite happy to agree to that suggestion.”

  It was more than he could believe. How could it be so simple, after all this time and suffering? -- that she should simply agree? Her look told him it was true, and a slow smile began to grow on his face. “It seems, then, that I am destined to spend a great deal of my visit today speaking to your father,” he said, his voice low, “so I had best make good use of the time I have with you.”

  To his delight, she met him halfway this time as he kissed her. He was intoxicated with the thought that she would be his, that she would be with him every day, and that there would come to be a time when he would not have to restrain his desire for her. He poured that exhilaration into his kiss, claiming an equal response from her. Knowing how easily he could lose himself in her, he forced himself to stop long before he was ready, but was rewarded by the entrancing sight of Elizabeth with her lovely eyes dark with passion for him.

  “My beloved Elizabeth,” he said, “how I wish I could take you away with me today!”

  She gave him a look of mock demureness. “I do not imagine my father would be pleased with that idea!”

  He smiled at her teasing, but his countenance turned quickly serious again. “And you? Would it please you?”

  She regarded him for a moment, struck by his apparent need for reassurance as to her feelings for him. She felt a lurch of sadness at the thought of all the pain he had suffered on her account, that he should doubt her affection when she had made it so plain. Well, in this matter, he can have all the reassurance he needs! she thought with pleased determination. “My dearest,” she said warmly, “I can think of nothing I would like more than to be with you.” With great daring, she reached up to kiss him lightly, but what began as a simple gesture of affection quickly turned into more as they sought to express all that they felt in a manner which could not be misunderstood.

  Some weeks later, Elizabeth joined Darcy and Georgiana at Netherfield as they awaited the return of the Bingleys from their tour. Elizabeth was anxious to see Jane; there was so much she wished to tell her, and to hear from her. She glanced at Darcy affectionately, and saw her smile provoked that smoldering look which told her that, but for the presence of his sister, he would be expressing himself in a manner more suited to a man violently in love. It is astonishing, she thought, not for the first time, that a mere look from him is enough to set my heart racing!

  It had not always been an easy journey to this point. Mr. Bennet had expressed some strong reservations about a match made so suddenly, and with a man of whom he had heard so many ill reports; but with time, as he saw more of Darcy with Elizabeth and grew to know him better, he became convi
nced of the value of his future son-in-law. The two lovers also had their share of painful discussions as they worked to resolve their past misunderstandings and to grow to a greater knowledge of one another. There had been far more times of happiness than of trouble, though, and the delight of Georgiana in their engagement was beyond her ability to express.

  The carriage arrived, and a flurry of happy embraces and congratulations which could finally be made in person ensued. Elizabeth had never seen Jane happier, and the bond between her and Mr. Bingley was almost palpable. They talked about their tour and their visit to Mr. Bingley’s relatives excitedly, and Elizabeth shared all the news from Longbourn and Meryton. Darcy was mostly quiet, but an occasional glance at him showed Elizabeth that it was a silence of contentment rather than of distress.