Miss Bingley sat with her mouth hanging open in shock at his forgetting himself in such a vulgar manner.
“Oh, come now, Caroline,” her brother-in-law said with a smirk as he drained his glass and set it upon the table next to the settee, “the way Darcy’s eyes were devouring that woman tonight, I would not have been surprised if he had forgotten we were even in the room. If I did not know better, he looked as though he would have taken her right there in the middle of the first course had the opportunity presented itself.” And with that, he removed himself to join the other two gentlemen in the billiard room, chuckling over his sister-in-law’s pale complexion and her scandalized look of alarm.
“Hurst, come in and have a drink,” Darcy said with uncharacteristic cheerfulness. “I was just thrashing Bingley at billiards.”
Grateful for an opportunity to lay aside his cue, Bingley poured a healthy glass of port for his brother-in-law and refilled Darcy’s and his own. As Mr. Hurst accepted his drink, he fixed Bingley with a level look that belied his inebriated state, and said, “By God, Bingley, that sister of yours will be your ruin.” Then he raised his glass in Darcy’s direction. “And she won’t do you any favors either, I might add.” He took several satisfying gulps of the contents as Darcy stared at him with a furrowed brow.
“Come, Hurst,” said Bingley with his usual good humor, “I grant you that Caroline may be difficult, but I hardly think it will lead me to ruin. And as for Darcy”—he laughed—“well, I doubt there is any woman in all of England who is prepared to do more for him!”
Darcy shrugged his shoulders, simultaneously rolling his eyes with distaste.
“Bloody right about that one! If I were you, Darcy, I’d think twice before courting Elizabeth Bennet again in Caroline’s company. Damned jealous of that one, she is, and rightly so. Come now, man, you must know Caroline has been determined to get you since the day she laid her eyes on Pemberley, and she is pretty blasted angry right about now.” Mr. Hurst took another drink and laughed. “What the devil ever possessed you to stare at Elizabeth Bennet like that all night in decent company? Caroline would have sold herself to the devil for half a glance, never mind what went on between the two of you tonight. Now she wants to drag us all the way to Town just to be rid of her. She may as well remove us all to the Continent for all the good that would do her.”
Bingley sighed and shook his head in exasperation. “Yes, that does sound like our Caroline.”
Mr. Hurst noticed Darcy’s frown. “Now do not go and take offense, Darcy. Though he only manages to gawk at her like a lovesick puppy, I suspect my sister-in-law has similar plans to dispose of Bingley’s Miss Bennet as well.”
Bingley sputtered and choked on his port.
“If you have any thoughts of proposing, Bingley, I would get to it, if I were you. There is no telling what Caroline is capable of when she sets her mind to it.” He threw back the rest of his drink and bid them both a good night.
* * *
Earlier that evening, after Darcy and Elizabeth had abandoned the relative privacy of Netherfield’s library to rejoin the rest of their party, the couple had found very little opportunity to be alone. Toward the end of the night, however, they managed to steal a few moments of privacy, where they wasted no time orchestrating a plan that would enable them to meet discreetly.
It was quickly decided Darcy would ride out early each morning, as was his wont, to meet with Elizabeth at Oakham Mount. As she habitually indulged in early morning rambles, it seemed a logical plan, so long as the weather was conducive to exercise out-of-doors. From there, they would walk out together, spending at least an hour in each other’s company before parting and returning to their respective households. Darcy would have far preferred to visit with her at Longbourn and openly declare himself to her father, but she had requested he refrain from doing so for the time being. Though he did not like it, Darcy was hesitant to do anything that might cause Elizabeth to withdraw her acceptance of his courtship. He agreed to the scheme only to appease her.
Though Elizabeth was not completely at ease with the idea of keeping their courtship a secret from her father, she was determined to conceal it completely from her mother, whose rampant effusions and scheming, she well knew, had the potential to drive away even the most determined suitor. It would not do to subject either Darcy or herself to her mother’s high-handed machinations just yet. There was much she felt she needed to learn about Darcy, and she was determined to discover it away from the prying eyes and embarrassing scrutiny of her nearest relations.
* * *
The late November morning was a particularly fine one. Elizabeth, now well past the pale to the entrance of her father’s estate, broke into a run as she hurried toward Oakham Mount. She should have set out a full quarter of an hour earlier but had found herself unhappily detained by Mr. Collins, of all people. To her growing irritation, with the passing of each week he spent in Hertfordshire—and, indeed, his initial plan had been to spend only one—the odious parson somehow managed to extend his stay. How his patroness could possibly spare him for so long baffled Elizabeth exceedingly; though, if Lady Catherine found her clergyman’s ingratiating attentions half as offensive and tiresome as the young ladies of Longbourn did, it was no wonder she would encourage his absence. Thank Heaven for dear Jane and her unending patience with that man! Elizabeth sent up a silent prayer of gratitude for her angelic elder sister, all the while hoping Darcy would still be waiting when she arrived.
Elizabeth was surprised to admit the last fortnight had been one of the most enjoyable she had ever spent. She had faithfully—and secretly—managed to meet with Darcy every morning, and on many occasions, they found themselves reunited again in the afternoon or evening, either at small, informal gatherings or at dinners given by one neighbor or another.
At first, Darcy was hesitant to approach her when in company and reluctantly resigned himself to the possibility that he would be forced to find consolation in the form of his old standby—staring at the woman he loved with undisguised longing from across the room—but, to his immense delight, Elizabeth no longer seemed to be of a mind to stay away.
Having gained a better understanding of Darcy’s taciturn disposition and his haughty composure when in company, Elizabeth made every effort to draw him into conversation with her friends, her neighbors, and the few truly intelligent members of her family.
Much to Darcy’s surprise, he discovered that under Elizabeth’s keen and solicitous guidance he was beginning to relax his stoic mien and even enjoy himself with the people of Hertfordshire. But Darcy found he was never so much at ease—he had never felt so accepted nor so valued for his own merits and contributions—as when he was alone with Elizabeth on their early morning rambles.
Elizabeth turned onto the path leading to Oakham Mount and immediately discerned the familiar figure whose presence she had come to welcome, even anticipate, as he leaned against a tree. She took a moment to study him while he twirled a strand of dried hay between his fingers, seemingly lost in thought. Even in such an informal setting—or perhaps in spite of it—Darcy presented a striking picture. Elizabeth raised her hands to her hair, smoothing any stray curls that may have escaped the confines of her bonnet. She struggled to calm her breathing and then, repressing a smile of pleasure, made her way toward Darcy.
A wide smile overspread his face as he beheld her—her cheeks aglow from the exertion of her morning exercise. It took less than an instant for his mind to begin contemplating how she might look after having partaken of another form of exercise—that of writhing beneath him in ecstasy as he plundered her lips and pleasured her body, claiming her as he so fervently wished to do, forever as his own.
She extended her gloved hand to him as she approached, and he took it, lifting it to his lips and bestowing upon it a kiss. His eyes never left her lovely face.
Elizabeth found herself blushing as his ardent gaze almost seemed to reach inside to caress her very soul. After several long min
utes of silence, she managed to find her voice. “Good morning, Mr. Darcy. I trust you are well today?” she asked with a touch of her usual archness.
Darcy did not relinquish her hand and quietly replied, “I find I am very well this morning, Miss Bennet… now that you are come.”
She broke into a beautiful smile. “Why, Mr. Darcy, I remember a time when I had not believed you capable of such pretty compliments.”
He was immensely pleased by her teasing and so answered honestly, “There was a time, Miss Bennet, when I will admit I had not the proper inducement, nor the desire, to bestow such heartfelt sentiments, but it seems my existence needed only the addition of a particular lady of my acquaintance, whose intelligent eyes have bewitched me, along with her wit, her vivacity, and her unrivalled beauty.”
A lovely blush colored Elizabeth’s cheeks, and she said merrily, “Well then, sir, I should very much like some day to meet this lady of whom you speak. Certainly she must be a rather remarkable creature to inspire such a proper gentleman as you to boldly profess such feelings!”
Darcy’s eyes gleamed, and he said in a low voice, “Truly, for it is she, and she alone, who has taught me how to be alive and not just merely to endure. Now I know such a woman exists for me, here, on this earth, and not just in my dreams; I shall never again be the same as I once was, nor would I ever wish it. I wish only for her…always for her.” His voice was now hardly more than a whisper. “Elizabeth, what you have done to me?”
Elizabeth could not help but be affected by his words and his emotion, and stood entranced, unable to tear her gaze from his. As Darcy held her in thrall, drawing ever closer, one hand sliding up her arm to rest upon her shoulder, the other still grasping her hand, she felt his warm breath against the coolness of her skin and shivered in anticipation of what she knew was surely to follow. Her eyelids fluttered closed, and her lips parted. Her heart beat rapidly in her chest. It was but a moment later when she felt the exquisite sensation of his lips as they tenderly pressed upon her own. She returned the gentle pressure with feeling, and Darcy deepened the kiss. Elizabeth could not prevent the soft sigh of pleasure she breathed into his mouth as Darcy’s fingers made their way from her shoulder to the delicate flesh of her neck. She felt her knees begin to grow weak, and before she knew what she was about, she found her hands slipping to his broad shoulders. She was beginning to understand what he meant.
Chapter 7
The two unmarried gentlemen from Netherfield were prevented from meeting with the two eldest Miss Bennets until the very evening of the Netherfield ball. In addition to a seemingly endless succession of cold rain, which had lasted a full four days, both households were thrown into somewhat of an uproar—Netherfield with final preparations for food and flowers, decorations and dancing; and Longbourn with the preoccupation of gowns and gloves, slippers and silk.
Darcy, who had long been in the habit of riding out nearly every morning for the sheer enjoyment of the exercise and, lately, to meet with Elizabeth—to say nothing of the added means of escaping Caroline Bingley’s effusive attentions—instead found himself imprisoned by the inclement weather. Unable to take any pleasure while indoors at Netherfield so long as Elizabeth was, likewise, confined to Longbourn, he spent the bulk of his time avoiding his friend’s shamefully persistent sister, seeking refuge in the library or the billiard room, where he was able to commiserate with Bingley in relative safety.
Elizabeth had never derived enjoyment from remaining indoors for prolonged periods of time, particularly in the trying company of her mother and younger sisters, and found herself longing for the solitude and opportunity for quiet reflection her early morning rambles often afforded her. She sighed with frustration every time her mother scolded her for hiding herself away in her room, insisting, instead, she spend her time more productively by sitting with Mr. Collins and encouraging his unwanted attentions.
At times like these, Elizabeth could not help but think wistfully of Darcy, with his soft lips, his penetrating eyes, and his intelligent discourse, knowing full well she would much rather be encouraging his attentions. With no hope of escape, she endured her confinement with such forbearance as she could manage under the circumstances, though her patience was certainly pushed beyond its limits when a simpering Mr. Collins solicited the honor of her hand for the first two dances the following evening.
* * *
Happily, the morning of the Netherfield Ball dawned clear and crisp, promising an evening very much the same. Carriage after carriage rolled up to Netherfield’s front entrance, which had been illuminated by torchlight, to deposit several hundred elegantly attired guests with great efficiency. Nearly the last of the parties to arrive, the Bennets were greeted graciously by Bingley and less so by his sisters. Positively beaming, their host wasted no time offering one arm to Jane and the other to Elizabeth. Without further ceremony, he ushered them into the ballroom.
As a guest in Bingley’s home, Darcy felt it would have been inappropriate to stand with the members of the family as they greeted each of their arrivals in turn, and so chose instead to await Elizabeth’s arrival in the ballroom. Though he had been learning to mix more agreeably in the somewhat smaller drawing rooms of Hertfordshire Society, he still found it difficult to move easily among larger crowds. Darcy had never felt completely at ease in a ballroom, and as such, he reverted, however unconsciously, back into his more reserved and haughty self, taking up a station in the farthest recesses of the room, where he hoped he might garner the least amount of notice.
When Darcy saw Elizabeth finally enter on Bingley’s arm, he froze. Wearing a low-cut gown of creamy silk that seemed to cling to her inviting curves in a most flattering manner, Elizabeth was breathtaking. Her hair was arranged in a far more elaborate style than she usually wore, and intertwined throughout the mass of dark curls piled high upon her head, there were silk roses that had obviously been fashioned with great care to complement her gown.
Darcy felt he would be content simply to gaze upon her all night, but as Bingley approached and presented her to him, he somehow managed to shake off his stupor and step forward to receive her, applying a gentle pressure to her gloved hand as he raised it to his lips.
“Good evening, Mr. Darcy,” she said quietly, with a small, enigmatic smile.
“Miss Bennet,” he murmured, unable to tear his gaze from the vision of loveliness she presented, “you look absolutely stunning this evening.”
Elizabeth felt a familiar pull deep within as she returned his admiring gaze with equal feeling. “Thank you. You look very handsome, as well.” She spoke the words softly, her throat suddenly dry.
Bingley, grinning with satisfaction, left Elizabeth staring at his friend while he escorted Jane to the middle of the room to open the ball.
The first half of the evening, save for Elizabeth’s obligatory dance with an incompetent and overzealous Mr. Collins, afforded the couples much pleasure.
Bingley, who was far more captivated by Jane than he was by his role as host, threw caution to the wind by dancing as many dances with his angel as the space of one evening would allow, while trying not to cause overt offense to any of the other young ladies in attendance.
Darcy, who was not normally inclined to dance, found immense pleasure in the act so long as Elizabeth was his partner. He found himself soliciting her hand repeatedly just to be close to her until, after their third dance partnered together, which had caused many a curious eye to turn upon them, Elizabeth finally laughed and teasingly chided him for his total disregard for ballroom propriety.
He reluctantly danced the next set with Jane while Elizabeth partnered with an attractive officer who clearly admired her. Darcy found himself watching them with increasing displeasure until his jealous glare was met by Elizabeth, whose sparkling eyes gave him such a look of chastisement that he actually blushed. Jane, apparently far from offended by Darcy’s preoccupation with her most beloved sister, smiled gently at his contrition and engaged him in conversation.
To the relief of all, Wickham was reported to have been sent to London on business for Colonel Forster and, therefore, was not in attendance.
When supper was announced, Darcy steered Elizabeth past a perspiring and genuflecting Mr. Collins, taking care to settle her between Jane and himself, and at some distance from the rest of her family. The two sisters were flushed from the exertion of having danced every dance, but the exercise only succeeded in brightening their eyes and adding a healthy glow to their complexions, which the gentlemen greatly admired.
During the first course, the buzz of constant conversation filled the room, but to Elizabeth’s mortification, she was able to distinguish her mother’s shrill voice as she spoke loudly to one of their neighbors of Mr. Collins. “Ah, yes! He is a most agreeable young man! He first admired Jane, you know, but Bingley was there before him. He has since taken quite a fancy to Lizzy, though, and has been excessively attentive to her, paying her every courtesy.” She then leaned closer to her companion and said smugly, “We are expecting him to make her an offer of marriage any day now! Of course, Mr. Collins does not have five thousand a year like Bingley, but I must say his income shall do well enough for Lizzy, for you know she is not half so handsome as Jane, nor such a favorite among the officers as my dearest Lydia!”
Catching the entirety of this conversation and having just taken a mouthful of wine, Darcy nearly choked himself. He recovered quickly, however, and wasted no time turning his gaze severely upon Mrs. Bennet.
Bingley, as well, could not help but stare, his eyes wide and his mouth hanging open in shock.
Jane sat stiffly at his side, conversing with Charlotte Lucas while struggling to maintain her serene composure.
Truth about Mr. Darcy Page 6
