by Jann Rowland
Pemberley house sat tall and proud near the northern end of the long valley in which the estate sat, further from the southern boundaries than from the north. It was toward the longer path he directed Zeus, mounting once he judged he was far enough away from the house to avoid being heard. Then with a softly spoken command and a tightening of his knees and heels, he urged the animal forward, flying through the still empty fields toward the Bennet estate in the distance, eschewing any paths to minimize any chance of discovery.
When he reached the low hill between the properties, Darcy slowed, examining the fence between, wondering if he should risk jumping it. If the sun was up, he would have done it, for the fence would be no match for a stallion of Zeus’s abilities. In the dark, however, he risked injuring himself and his mount, and while he might have assumed that risk for himself, he would not put another creature in that situation.
Dismounting, Darcy tied his horse to a post, whispering soft words to him. The animal eyed him with what Darcy took to be a look of reproach and soon hung his head. Darcy knew Zeus would be well until he returned, so he patted the animal’s head and vaulted the fence, making his way forward on foot. Though he had little knowledge of the Bennets’ lands, he thought Elizabeth had once told him that the manor was not far distant from the northern border, which gave him hope he would reach it before long.
What Darcy had hoped to accomplish by intruding upon Longbourn in the dead of the night he could not even discern for himself. All he knew was that the need to be near Miss Elizabeth was akin to a physical ache emanating from his very bones. But luck, it seemed, was with him that night, for as the stately bulk of her home rose before him, Darcy saw the woman herself.
Though it was not cold, it was for a woman dressed in naught but a nightgown and a dressing gown, yet Miss Elizabeth seemed to take no notice. The moon was bright and full that night, illuminating all below in a soft, white eldritch glow. Miss Elizabeth was standing on the balcony outside what he guessed was her room, leaning against the balustrade, and it seemed to Darcy’s eyes a glow, far brighter and more glorious than the pale light of the moon was emanating from her head like some heavenly halo, for she was as precious as an angel to him. For a moment Darcy paused and drank in the sight of her; perversely, the words he had spoken at the assembly concerning this glorious creature returned to taunt him. How blind he must have been to consider her flawed, for she was perfection itself!
A sense of mischief came over Darcy, and he stepped forward, calling out to her as loud as he dared: “But, soft! what light through yonder window breaks? It is the east, and Elizabeth is the sun. Arise, fair sun, and kill the envious moon, who is already sick and pale with grief, that thou her maid art far more fair than she!”
Though she started upon hearing his voice, his Elizabeth—his Elizabeth!—caught his reference at once and was quick to respond.
“‘O Fitzwilliam, Fitzwilliam! wherefore art thou Fitzwilliam? Deny thy father and refuse thy name; or, if thou wilt not, be but sworn my love, and I’ll no longer be a Bennet.’”
With a grin, Darcy stepped forward, seeing nothing but the face of this beautiful woman before him. “‘I take thee at thy word: call me but love, and I’ll be new baptized; henceforth I never will be Fitzwilliam.’”‘
“‘What man art thou that thus bescreen’d in night so stumblest on my counsel?”
“‘By a name I know not how to tell thee who I am: my name, dear saint, is hateful to myself, because it is an enemy to thee; had I it written, I would tear the word.’”
“‘How camest thou hither, tell me, and wherefore?’”
“To see you, my dearest love,” said Darcy, his heart full of adoration for this woman. “I could not stay away.”
Miss Elizabeth looked down on him, her love for him radiating from her in waves, bathing him in the beauty and wonder of its intensity. For a moment she peered at him, then she commanded: “Wait there, for I shall come down.”
“Nay, fair maiden, for I shall come to thee,” said Darcy. He spied a trellis running up the side of the house, growths of ivy intertwined around it. One look informed him it would support his weight, and he began to climb, ignoring the gasp of the woman above him.
“Mr. Darcy!” hissed she. “I do not think this is a good idea!”
“Nothing shall keep me from thee, beloved Elizabeth.”
The climb was a few short moments of effort, as the trellis was sturdy and fastened tight to the wall. Within moments he had attained her balcony and reached for the balustrade, swinging one leg over to sit on the edge, grinning at her. Miss Elizabeth was not amused, though the sentiment warred with delight at seeing him here.
“‘With love’s light wings did I o’er-perch these walls; for stony limits cannot hold love out.’”
“It seems they cannot,” said Elizabeth, amused anew at his daring. “So tell me, Mr. Darcy, shall we end our tragic love right here, fling ourselves to our deaths on the ground below and thereby heal the division which lies between our families?”
“I should rather have you for a lifetime than measure our love in hours or minutes, dearest, loveliest Elizabeth.” Darcy swung his other leg over the banister and caught her hands between his. “I have no desire to end like those star-crossed lovers of old. Instead, I would give you all I have and all that I am, if you would only consent to be my wife.”
“Oh, Mr. Darcy,” said Elizabeth, melting like putty before him.
Darcy pulled her close, reveling for the first time in the closeness of her body to his, the scent of her hair and the lavender water she used, a hint of which still hovered about her. She clung tightly to him, a sentiment Darcy was eager to return, to never let go. Would that they could stay like this for an eternity.
“Please call me William, my dear, for I would have nothing, not even the formality of address between us.”
Elizabeth pulled back from him, her face alight with amusement. “Is your full name a little too stuffy, even for a Darcy?”
With a delighted grin, Darcy leaned down and kissed her nose. “Stuffy, perhaps, but too much of a mouthful for everyday use. Everyone in my family who does not refer to me as Darcy calls me William, though Lady Catherine prefers to stick to formality. She considers it a distinguished old name, one which should not be altered.”
“That does not surprise me,” said Elizabeth, wrinkling her nose with disgust at the mention of Lady Catherine. “Not to offend, but your Fitzwilliam relations have not held their title as long as my forbears have held ours.”
“I am not offended at all, for it is the truth,” said Darcy. “Lady Catherine is the only member of the family who gives herself airs, for the rest of the Fitzwilliam clan are quite the humble bunch. You have met my cousin—his family is much like him in essentials.”
“Colonel Fitzwilliam, at least, provides proof of your assertion.”
Elizabeth paused and nibbled at her lower lip, an action Darcy found adorable. Maddening too, for it filled him with the wild desire to kiss her.
“Well, Elizabeth?” asked Darcy after a moment. “What say you? I offer you my heart, the soul of a man deeply in love with you, an organ that will never love another. One word from you and we may be together forever. If you wish me to end in the manner of which you spoke only moments ago, you need only reject me, for, without you, no life is worth living.”
Miss Elizabeth gazed on him with adoring eyes. “If you will have me, William, I am yours.”
His heart soaring at her acceptance of his love, Darcy leaned down and for the first time kissed her with all the passion he possessed. One might have thought a young woman, sheltered and untutored in such activities might have become frightened at the pure need in his kiss, but nothing could be further from the truth. How long they stood there engaged in a duel of tongues, a blending of hearts and minds, Darcy would never know. It seemed like a lifetime, and yet it was not enough—not by half.
As all things must, however, soon the demands of the situation took prec
edence. Darcy pulled back from her amid pecks on her lips, eyes, everywhere on her face he could, while she shivered with delight at his attentions. The passion subsided, though the need burned as hot as it ever had, and soon he leaned his head against hers, caressing her silky cheek with one of his fingers.
“Though I would stay with you like this forever, I believe we must discuss what lies before us.”
With a sigh and a nod of acknowledgment, Elizabeth took his hand and led him to a chair on her balcony, and though it was fashioned for one, Darcy sat in it and pulled her onto his lap. Elizabeth allowed it without question, putting her arms around his neck and pulling him close. Once again, she chewed on her lip as she often did when deep in thought, and after a moment, she turned and met his eyes in the dim light of the moon.
“I do not think we have much time, William. It would not do if anyone found you here when the sun rises. The house will begin to stir before long.”
“Though I would very much like to brave all your father’s displeasure, at present I can do naught but agree. The question is, can we reconcile our families?”
Grimacing, Elizabeth shook her head, saying: “If there is a way, I do not see it—not after our mutual performance tonight. Might I assume your father warned you all against associating with any Bennets?”
“He did,” replied Darcy, “though he did not receive the obedience he had expected. Lady Catherine was his faithful parrot, but Fitzwilliam flatly refused, saying he would not behave in so reprehensible a manner, and offering to leave if he is unwelcome because of it.”
A sadness entered Elizabeth’s eyes and she said: “Ah, the poor colonel. Lady Charlotte is my closest friend, you understand—I would not wish for any strain to be placed on their shoulders in this season of joy.”
“And I would agree with you.” Darcy paused and sighed. “To be honest, I doubt my father will press the point. But Fitzwilliam was not the only one to rebel, as Alexander was no more interested in my father’s decrees than Fitzwilliam. And Anne, though she remained silent, did not appear impressed. Did your father give you all similar instructions?”
“Yes, he did,” replied Elizabeth. “Lydia was as mutinous as ever, but the rest of my sisters kept their own counsel. Papa knows that Jane will come into contact with your family by virtue of her marriage to Mr. Bingley, but Papa wishes to lessen the tension between our families by insisting we keep to ourselves.”
“That is unfortunate,” murmured Darcy.
“How can we work on them?” asked Elizabeth, tears standing in the corners of her eyes.
Dismayed by the sight, for no woman so glorious as she should ever be so distressed, Darcy drew her closer, giving all the comfort he could impart. “I will own I do not know. But it will not change my mind, Elizabeth. I mean to make you my wife; I shall allow nothing to come between us.”
While her lips curled up, the storms raging in the depths of her eyes did not give way to calmness. “Would that I could believe it will be that easy, William. But I fear it shall not. I cannot see how my father would allow it. Do you think yours would?”
Darcy paused and considered the matter, and said: “I confess, I do not know if he would. It is possible.”
“Then how can we marry? How could we support ourselves without our families?”
“I have an estate that might serve,” said Darcy. “Blackfish Bay is near the coast in Lincolnshire. It is not a large property, as its income is only two thousand pounds, but I inherited it from a distant relation, so it is mine alone. If our families should continue in this manner and reach no détente, we could marry and live there.”
Darcy searched her eyes. “Would you find contentment living in such reduced circumstances?”
“As long as I am with you, I cannot fail to find happiness,” said Elizabeth, love shining in her eyes. “I do not require riches, William. Relationships bring happiness, not great fortune.”
“That is an interesting position for the daughter of a wealthy peer, a woman who has been raised amid great privilege.”
Elizabeth caught the irony and humor in his voice and replied in like fashion. “What of you, who was reared in a lavish house amongst servants to see to your every need? Would you a simple life in Lincolnshire suit you?”
“If we are together, I will be content,” said Darcy, punctuating his statement with a kiss.
Then a thought occurred to him. “I apologize, Elizabeth, but might I ask if you are of age?”
It was a critical question, and the answer was destined to disappoint him. “I am not,” said she. “My birthday is in July—until then, I am only twenty.”
The thought of waiting until the summer to be united with this woman was not palatable to Darcy in the slightest. There was a possible solution to the problem but given how much he had already asked of her Darcy hesitated to suggest it. Better to keep it in the back of his mind and offer it up should the situation become untenable than to frighten her with it now.
“It seems to me,” continued Miss Elizabeth, “we have little choice but to wait and watch, to hope our families come to their senses. Perhaps through careful guidance, we might induce them to reason.”
Though Elizabeth’s words projected confidence, Darcy knew she was as little convinced as he was of the success of their efforts. Still, for the present, there was nothing to do but to make the attempt. Some miracle or pathway forward might present itself should they only have faith and stay to their course.
Few words passed between them after that, for the two lovers contented themselves in sitting together in silence, enjoying the company of the other. Darcy refused to depart until the last moment in which he thought he could make his escape with success. He might have judged better and left earlier to avoid tempting fate, but he could not pull himself away.
It was the sense that Elizabeth was falling asleep in his arms which roused Darcy to leave her, allowing her to seek her bed. A few more kisses and promises of everlasting devotion were exchanged until he climbed down the trellis again. As he trudged toward the trees on the northern end of the glade in which the house stood, he stopped and turned to gaze at her, noting she was watching him as he departed. She kissed her palm and blew it to him, and for a moment, he fancied a helpful wind had born it on wings of air to him. Then she turned and entered the house.
With a sigh, Darcy began to trudge away toward the border fence and Zeus, trying to ignore the gaping hole in his breast. For Fitzwilliam Darcy had left his heart behind that night. He would never again feel whole until they were united forever.
Chapter XXIII
Given her late night, first at the ball, then contemplating all that happened there on her balcony, then the subsequent time stealing a few forbidden moments with William, Elizabeth might have thought she would awake exhausted the following morning. While she found a few hours of precious rest after William’s departure, she woke far sooner than she might have wished, her heart and mind alive with memories of the gentleman’s proposal. Knowing she would sleep no longer, Elizabeth arose and had her mount saddled, leaving Longbourn before anyone else in the family stirred from their rest.
Setting out at a quick pace, Elizabeth made her way toward the meadow she shared with William, hoping against hope she would find him there. To her utter delight, William’s thoughts had mirrored her own, for she found him seated on their rock, enjoying the morning.
Spurring her mount forward, Elizabeth approached at a gallop, eager to be in his arms again. When she pulled Midnight to a halt and slid down from the saddle, he granted her wish with a searing kiss, which informed her without the possibility of misinterpretation how much he had missed her.
“One would think we had not seen each other for a month or more, William,” said Elizabeth, giving him a playful grin.
“It seems like a lifetime to me,” said William, leading her to sit beside him. “Every moment appears that way to me.”
Elizabeth could not disagree with him. They spent some time sitting on
that rock, speaking of many things, and Elizabeth found herself telling him secrets she had kept her whole life, some of which she had not even told Jane! They were not together long, for Elizabeth knew if she stayed all morning she would be missed and her family would become suspicious. But she treasured her time with the man she loved and wished they could meet without fear of causing a crisis. Perhaps someday . . .
While it was Elizabeth’s intention to avoid provoking suspicion, she was not entirely successful. When they parted and Elizabeth turned her mount’s steps back toward Longbourn, she found another making his way there, her presence surprising him.
“Elizabeth,” hailed her Uncle Gardiner as she allowed her horse to walk down the road which led to the estate. Her uncle regarded her with some interest as he cantered up to her, taking in her appearance, seeming to inspect her, perhaps to see if she had ridden Midnight hard. The slow pace of the return to Longbourn was a benefit, for Midnight showed no signs of ill use.
“I might have thought you would not be eager for exercise after the late night at the earl’s home.”
“And yet, you know I never miss the opportunity to be out of doors,” said Elizabeth with a laugh, attempting levity. “Mayhap I will sleep this afternoon for a time, but I never rest much past daybreak.”
Uncle Gardiner regarded her for several moments before turning toward Longbourn again, motioning her to ride alongside him. “Then since you were on your way home, let us go together.”
They rode side by side, exchanging few words between them, though when her uncle did speak to her, Elizabeth thought it was with a sense of probing. What he suspected she could not say, and he did not ask open questions. But Elizabeth’s heart was disquieted, the sense that he was not taking her words at face value whispering therein. She began to wonder if her secret was in danger of being discovered.
