B00CO8L910 EBOK

by KaraLynne Mackrory

  “Then you approve of Pemberley,” he said, holding his breath.

  Her tinkling laugh delighted him, and he released the air slowly. “I am sure there would be few who would not approve, Mr. Darcy.”

  He smiled at her words as he reached into his pocket for the miniature. “Miss Elizabeth, I remember your reaction to the last gift I attempted to give you, but I hope that you will make an exception for this one.”

  He held out the miniature, and her hands came up to receive it instinctively. Elizabeth looked down into the smiling face of Lydia. She shook her head in wonder, her mouth slightly agape as she gazed up at him with wet, questioning eyes.

  He hesitated. “Drawing is something of a hobby for me as you have learned. My technique, you will see, is not well developed.”

  Elizabeth wiped her eyes and hastened to say, “Mr. Darcy, this is such a beautiful likeness. How is it possible that you came to make it?”

  “I have an excellent memory, Miss Elizabeth,” he said, adding to his embarrassment.

  Elizabeth looked at the picture again, marveling at the talent of the artist and its likeness to the subject. A thought came to her mind then of how much pleasure such a picture would give to all her dear family as no one had ever thought to have any of their likenesses taken before. The joy that surged through her at that moment chased away the feelings of sorrow. Her elation expressed itself with such profoundness that she could not have realized the words that she then uttered.

  “Mr. Darcy, this is too wonderful. I could kiss you!” She laughed as she ran her finger along the edge of the frame.

  Darcy froze and could not help imagining that exact action! His artist’s eye was attentive to the sunbeams lighting her soft, chocolate curls. Her dark brown eyes, that had laid the foundation for his love and admiration of her, were sparkling with happiness. He was gratified that she had received his gift with such pleasure but knew better than to imagine her words were in earnest.

  But she had said it . . . so he could not help replying huskily, “I would by no means suspend any pleasure of yours, Miss Bennet.”

  Elizabeth continued to laugh, still unaware of what affect her previous declaration held on her companion. “I cannot help but wonder why you would trouble yourself with such an undertaking as this, sir”—she held up the miniature—“but I thank you, most sincerely.”

  Darcy stepped closer to her, his eyes trying to convey all that he felt at the moment. He looked all over her lovely face as he said in a low voice, heavy with significance, “Surely by now you know, Elizabeth. Surely you must know.”

  Elizabeth looked up at him then and was paralyzed by what she saw. His eyes were focused in the piercing way he often looked at her. At first, she was startled to realize that what she saw there was not displeasure but — Her heart seemed to stop momentarily as the truth settled over her. Looking deeply into Mr. Darcy’s eyes, she saw nothing but a passionate expression of raw admiration and desire. His dark eyes swam with intense emotion. How could I not have seen it before? Her mind raced through dozens of similar looks she had received from him almost from the beginning of their acquaintance, each of them flashing through her mind with new understanding. That he could have loved her the whole time, she could not fathom.

  Her mouth went dry. Mr. Darcy is in love with me. The words echoed in her mind, it being unable to contain any other thoughts at the moment. Her new understanding held her under such a power that she had never before experienced. Most surprising to Elizabeth was the fact that his loving her was not an unwelcome discovery. Her heart spoke confidently to her of the truth it had somehow known for some time, a truth that her mind had only just accepted — the truth that she loved him back.

  Mr. Darcy saw the change in her expression and became so overwhelmed by the look in her eyes that his body moved on its own accord closer to her. Indeed, he had reached her before he had even realized what he was about.

  Elizabeth was spellbound as Mr. Darcy stepped closer to her and brought his hands up to cup her face. She remained still as he leaned his face down towards hers. She closed her eyes just as she heard the sweet timbre of his voice and felt the warmth of his breath on her face.

  “Dearest, loveliest Elizabeth,” he whispered, and she felt his other hand slip along her cheek and stop at the base of her neck. It was but a moment before she felt his lips meet with hers.

  At the exquisite touch of his lips upon hers, triggering a thousand thoughts and emotions, the flowers she had picked slipped through her fingers to the ground. Each of her senses was at once surrounded and embraced by nothing but him. His scent, lemon and sandalwood she remembered, engulfed and delighted her. His caress, so tender, so careful on her neck, her cheek, spoke to her of the gentleness of his spirit. Her closed eyes saw gold from the sun that pierced her lids as her face tilted towards the sky to him. Every sensation she experienced was effected and produced by him. The time felt as if it had stopped, and yet she was aware of her disappointment when the soft, excruciatingly wonderful feel of his lips on hers ended only a moment after it began.

  Her eyes remained closed when he pulled away a few inches from her face. His hands were still on her face and neck, and his voice was shaky as he said, “Forgive me, Elizabeth.”

  She felt an acute sense of loss as he pulled away. She slowly brought her hand up to touch her lips, still tingling from his kiss. She watched him step back again as he drew in a ragged breath and ran his fingers through his hair. She saw his face contort, and she knew he was beginning to rebuke himself.

  She stepped towards him then and said, “Mr. Darcy . . . ”

  Elizabeth was dismayed to see him step further back and forestall her approach when she had drawn closer to him. She felt the tiniest fraction of relief when he said, “Please, Elizabeth, if you come any nearer, I may not vouchsafe my behavior as a gentleman. Indeed, I have not acted the part just now.” Darcy was barely master under his own regulation, and when she stepped towards him, his arms ached to reach out and return to the bliss of that kiss. His heart was still beating rapidly, and his power over his ardor was tenuous. I should not have kissed her, he groaned to himself even as the memory of it washed over him again.

  She could see his self-censure and said gently, “Mr. Darcy, although I know what just happened should not have happened, especially considering our lack of . . . of understanding. Even with my own state of mourning, I cannot help but point out to you the fact that I am not complaining, sir.”

  Darcy stopped his pacing and looked at her for the first time since their kiss. Her eyes were bright and her cheeks pink with the loveliest of blushes — a blush he knew he had given her. One of her impertinent eyebrows was arched charmingly at him. His eyes drifted to her lips, and he unconsciously tasted his own. The taste of her sweet lips was still on his, and he had to look away lest he lose control again. He swallowed several times before he could speak.

  “Your forgiveness I know I do not deserve, but I thank you for it, Elizabeth,” he finally managed with a half-smile and a sideways glance. He would have proposed marriage right then if he were not so intensely aware of his breech with propriety already. Instead, he turned to her and declared, “I would like to call on you in Hertfordshire when you return.”

  They both knew that her official mourning would be over by the time she returned to Longbourn. It made his request to call on her all the more significant. Darcy held his breath as he waited for her answer.

  Elizabeth could not contain her joy! With her eyes full of delight, she said, “I would like that very much, sir.”

  Darcy’s elation at hearing her words could not be described. He held himself in check as he allowed himself to draw nearer to her. With every nerve in his body on high alert and every muscle commanded to maintain his reserve, he reached for her hand and brought it to his lips for one delicate, lingering kiss.

  He allowed her hand to drop only into the crook of his arm as they began walking again. They walked in companionable silence for m
ost of the distance back to the house lost in their own thoughts and sensations of their time amongst the bluebells. Upon reaching the house, it was time for tea. If the Gardiners or Georgiana noticed their heightened color or the tender glances exchanged from time to time, no one said anything.

  The rest of Elizabeth’s stay at Pemberley was marked by those secret looks and frequent musings of their shared kiss. When she and the Gardiners entered their carriage to take their leave the next day, Darcy was already counting the days until he could leave for his friend’s house in Hertfordshire.

  Glancing down at his sister standing next to him as they watched the carriage disappear, Darcy said, “Well, Georgie, I think you may have a career as a Bow Street runner with all the sneaky maneuvering you have done on this holiday.”

  Georgiana smiled at her brother. “I shall consider the option and add that to my list of accomplishments, William.”

  They both laughed and turned to enter the house, Darcy only pausing once to look over his shoulder at the empty road again.

  Chapter 12

  Elizabeth bit her lip and fixed her gaze steadily out the carriage window. Her cheeks, she knew, were flushed and warm. It was always the result whenever her thoughts brought her back to Darcy and the kiss, her first kiss, only a few days before. The tingle from it had long since disappeared, but the rapidity of her heart rate often returned with the memory. To have gained such a man’s love was beyond Elizabeth’s comprehension. She closed her eyes and leaned her head back against the padded seat of the carriage.

  Elizabeth had not felt such joy and contentment before in her life, and she laughed to herself at the thought that she was now in love with the last man in the world she thought she could ever be prevailed upon to marry. To think she had held that belief just a short three months ago. She knew that her changed perspective had started with her sister’s death; from knowing him better, his disposition was better understood. In this new light, his artless compassion, gentle kindness and understanding nature could be seen, and she could not deny it if she wished.

  Her pride still rankled that she had been so deceived by Wickham’s character. She believed now, after reflection, that his deception was more her fault than his. Had she not set herself so decidedly against Mr. Darcy because of his slight against her at that first assembly in Meryton last autumn, then she would not have let her wounded dignity be taken in by the charms of Mr. Wickham. Elizabeth struggled with a mixture of wonder and discomfort to think how the tragedy of Lydia’s death had shown Mr. Darcy in a new light. She might have gone on forever disliking the man and misjudging his character.

  With her new understanding about his feelings for her, she realized that, if Mr. Darcy had allowed his love for her after all these months to compel him to offer her his hand and she had not learned the truth about him, she would have made an even graver mistake in refusing him. For a refusal, she knew she would have given. The very thought of hurting him so, of turning away his love, a love she could not imagine living without now, made her eyes swim beneath their lids.

  With overwhelming gratitude, Elizabeth offered up a solemn prayer of thanks for the blessings she’d been given in the face of this adversity. She was certain that he was now the only man she could ever be prevailed upon to marry. Elizabeth smiled as she thought, It is a good thing then that he plans to call on me soon.

  * * *

  Madeline Gardiner had not spent twelve years of blissful matrimony without being able to recognize the look in a man’s eyes when he was in love. Neither was she unaware of the look that came into a man’s eyes when that love was coupled with desire. Therefore, as much as she had enjoyed her time visiting her friends in Lambton and becoming better acquainted with the Darcys, and as much as she had been gratified exceedingly by the growing attachment between her favorite niece and the master of that beautiful estate, she was glad now to be on their way.

  She had seen that look of love in Mr. Darcy’s eyes whenever they rested on her niece. She had also seen when it mixed with a bit of the other, especially when they had returned from their walk around the lake. She was happy for Elizabeth. Mr. Darcy would make a fine suitor and husband. She was also glad to see that her niece returned the man’s affections. For all Elizabeth’s efforts to conceal her feelings, Madeline knew she was in love with Mr. Darcy too. Furthermore, Madeline had not been married these twelve years without knowing the blessed power such a love could have over both one’s heart and body — which was all the more reason to separate them until a proper understanding could be had.

  She looked at her niece’s sleeping form in the carriage. Elizabeth had confessed that Mr. Darcy had asked to call on her upon their return to Hertfordshire. As her aunt, she felt incumbent to discuss with her the significance of such a request. Elizabeth merrily acknowledged the implication and welcomed his return to Hertfordshire. Madeline was gladdened there was at least the hint of an understanding between the two, for surely it would secure the happiness of both. She only wished she were not continuing on to London after returning her niece back home; she would like to have seen for herself how this love affair unfolded. Nevertheless, she would have to content herself in knowing her niece to be a proficient correspondent.

  When the carriage rolled to a stop in front of her sister-in-law’s house, Madeline gently shook Elizabeth. She opened her eyes immediately, surprised to have reached home.

  “You were asleep a long time, dear.”

  “Oh I was not asleep, Aunt. But I suppose I was too preoccupied to notice the time.” Elizabeth was grateful to have shared her love for Mr. Darcy with her dear aunt now that she realized it herself, but she was eager to talk with Jane again and see how her family fared.

  Aunt Gardiner smiled knowingly at her niece before turning towards the now open carriage door to be handed down by her own sweetheart.

  * * *

  It seemed her family was doing quite all right, Elizabeth discovered — more than all right. When Elizabeth and the Gardiners entered Longbourn, they were greeted by both her parents and all of her sisters. Everyone was all smiles, and she had to laugh at their warm welcome. After enthusiastic hugs with her sisters, she noticed her parents holding hands. Even as they embraced her, they seemed reluctant to separate.

  Elizabeth looked over her mother’s shoulder with a raised eyebrow and a look of question to Jane. Smiling, her sister shook her head in return. Elizabeth would have to speak with her sister at the earliest opportunity about their parents’ odd behavior.

  When Elizabeth and Jane retired for the evening, the former immediately brought up the topic with Jane.

  “Papa and Mama, Jane. What has happened?”

  Jane laughed and leaned back against the four-poster bed as she pulled her legs up inside her nightgown. She shook her head. “I cannot say for certain, Lizzy. It all started that day when Papa came into the parlor and kissed her in front of everyone. You remember. Since then, they have spent much of each day in conversation together, alone in their chambers. I have even heard Mama laugh.”

  Elizabeth was all astonishment! “What can you make of it?”

  Jane smiled contentedly. “It must be love, Lizzy.”

  “Love?” Elizabeth was so stunned she could not utter anything else for a few minutes. Surely, her parents did not love each other; their dispositions had grown sufficiently unlike to make it seem impossible. Her sister was leaning her head at an angle against the post with a wistful look.

  “And what do you know about love, Jane?” Elizabeth asked with a sly smile. She watched her sister blush and smile back at her.

  “Mr. Bingley will speak to Papa tomorrow, Lizzy.” She bent her head and picked at her fingernails. “To seek my hand.”

  Elizabeth leapt across the bed, instantly embracing her sister. “I cannot believe it! Oh, well I can, of course. I knew he loved you, but this is a surprise!”

  Jane could have no reserves from Elizabeth where confidence would give pleasure. “Technically, we are out of full
mourning, Lizzy, as of two days ago. There is nothing improper about his asking for my hand now.” Jane colored and looked away.

  Elizabeth laughed heartily. “Yes just two days ago, I suppose I could not have expected Mr. Bingley to wait a moment longer than he had to. I daresay he has been in love with you since he first laid eyes on you last year.”

  Jane chuckled softly. “You do not disapprove of his haste, do you Lizzy? I could not bear it if you thought he was being insensible to Lydia’s death. She will always be in our hearts, but we must try to go on. I think Lydia would wish us happy . . . ” Jane broke off with uncertainty and looked at her sister for assurance.

  Elizabeth tilted her head and gently patted her sister’s cheek. “Janey, dear, of course, I do not disapprove or think ill of Mr. Bingley. Society cannot condemn his offer.” With no little cheek, she added, “Truly, Jane. I think the poor man would have proposed sooner had it been possible. And if he had, I could not have censured him, for he would have secured, perhaps forever, the happiness of a most beloved sister.”

  Jane smiled in relief and embraced her sister again. “Oh, Lizzy, I cannot tell you how glad I am to hear you say so. I have loved him for so long. How shall I bear so much happiness?” cried Jane. “He has been so much help to me and our whole family during this difficult time. He had a brother once that he lost to an illness when he was just fourteen. His empathy is great.”

  “Well then, how can I not but approve of such a man for you, Jane. But wait” — Lizzy reached for her sister’s hand again — “you have said nothing of his proposal yet. Tell me every detail, Jane; do not leave anything out.”

  Jane’s open and generous heart shared the details of the proposal with her sister, and she flushed when she confessed how Mr. Bingley had then kissed her cheek.

  “I know you do not know what that feels like, and I wish I could tell you, but I simply cannot put it into words, Lizzy! It made me quite faint!”