by Suzan Lauder
His nanny scooped up little Jenny. His mother softly told him that the nurse was to take the baby to the nursery. Fitzwilliam glanced up at his mother, and she gave him a gentle smile of assurance. He looked to where the baby still held his finger and pulled gently to release it from her grasp, but she held tight. He furrowed his brow as he tried unsuccessfully to pry her tiny fingers loose. He made a funny face at her, and the baby smiled and gurgled then released him.
“Bye, bye, baby Beth,” he said in a cooing voice, smiling.
***
19 April 1812
Rosings, Kent
Darcy read the two letters several times and was well able to understand his duty. He was shocked, confounded, and curious at the revelations contained within, but as was to be expected, those emotions soon gave way to anxiety and self-deprecation.
Daughter of an earl. Enormous fortune. Her parents among the best of people. My dear parents as her godparents. He was dumbfounded. The implications were clear. The woman he had loved so long but hesitated to offer for was about to be recognized as a most sought-after heiress. Every charming, lively, amiable, handsome, fortune-hunting suitor in the country would be ready to please Lady Elizabeth Lydon, and he might pale in comparison.
Darcy regretted his delay in proposing and wondered how she would interpret his declaration once she was privy to the intelligence contained in the missive. He believed Elizabeth’s inevitable response would be to reject his suit; at the very least, she would be well advised to defer her decision.
Chapter 15:
During which the reader is subjected to a totally saccharine non-canon version of the Hunsford proposal.
9 April 1812
Rosings Park, Kent
Darcy awaited Elizabeth’s arrival for dinner with both happy anticipation and dread. He was not certain how she would react to his addresses if she thought they were only due to the newly disclosed knowledge of her fortune and connections. When she arrived, she looked at him with sparkling eyes, and at the first opportunity, he moved to stand near her.
“Mr. Darcy, I am looking forward to seeing Jane and Mr. Bingley now that they have sent such good news to us.”
“Yes, I am as well. I was delighted to hear of their engagement.”
“They are well-suited.”
“Indeed they are. Bingley could not have chosen anyone more compatible to his character.”
Lady Catherine chose this moment to interject, “Pray, Darcy, what are you talking about with Miss Bennet?”
“We were discussing the recent betrothal of Miss Elizabeth’s elder sister to my friend Mr. Bingley.”
“Who is this Mr. Bingley? What are his connections?”
“He is from the north, has a fortune of £100,000 derived from business interests and has lately let a property in Hertfordshire near Miss Elizabeth’s home with intent to purchase the land and become gently situated.”
“In trade, is he? I hope her parents are not displeased with the connection since Mr. Bennet is a gentleman. I should advise this Mr. Bingley to purchase before his wedding to make the match seem more appropriate.
“Miss Bennet, who are your connections? Have you relatives in Town?”
“My uncle in Town is in the import business, and my other uncle is a solicitor in Meryton.”
“But you have relations near Matlock, do you not?” Lady Catherine was relentless in her questioning, hoping to have her suspicions realized about Elizabeth’s relationship to her old friends, Lord and Lady Shelton. She was certain Elizabeth looked a great deal like Lady Shelton.
“Not to my knowledge, madam.”
“You should ask your parents. Perhaps on your mother’s side. You must have better connections there.”
Elizabeth was saved by the call for dinner and fortunate to be seated at the far end of the table from Lady Catherine. The colonel was the beneficiary of Lady Catherine’s dissertations for the duration of the meal while Elizabeth conversed primarily with Mr. and Mrs. Collins. When the former saw fit to once again enlighten his cousin regarding his fortunate ability to interest Lady Catherine in providing him the position of rector of Hunsford, the latter carefully suggested that Elizabeth had already acknowledged this fact and gently admonished his overly verbose manner and need to dominate the conversation.
After dinner, Elizabeth was once again applied to play the pianoforte, and Darcy quickly offered to turn her pages before Fitzwilliam was able to do so. He took delight in the opportunity to sit very close to her and enjoyed her playing and singing of a Mozart aria from The Marriage of Figaro.
Darcy’s presence affected her so much that she forgot her carefully practised fingering and struggled her way through much of it, feeling relieved that she was eventually successful at minimizing the discordant notes. Were he to know she had selected the piece just for him, she would have been even more nervous.
When she finished playing, and seeing Lady Catherine absorbed in a conversation with Mrs. Collins, Darcy invited Elizabeth to take some air on the terrace. The evening was cool, so she fetched her shawl. Colonel Fitzwilliam looked as if he were about to follow, but Anne’s hand stayed him. Darcy offered his arm to Elizabeth as they walked along the garden path outside the windows.
They stopped under an arbour near the entrance to Lady Catherine’s maze, and Darcy boldly took her hands in his. Her eyes widened with the intimacy of the gesture, and she swallowed hard. Suddenly, her feelings were clear to her—she loved him and maybe always had. Too much time had been wasted listening to her pride and doubting all but her dislike for him.
Darcy was unaware he had made such an impression. He looked down at their entwined hands while collecting his thoughts. He was silent for some several minutes without realizing it.
“Mr. Darcy?” Elizabeth said, finally. He felt apprehension, admiration, and excitement all at once. Raising his eyes, he saw what he wished in hers. She smiled reassuringly, and he inhaled deeply before he began speaking.
“Miss Elizabeth, I want you to know that your father has disclosed your situation to me; however, I must assure you that it is not important to my suit. I had decided to make my declaration even when I thought your situation beneath me. Although I struggled to reconcile myself to a connection with someone whose family and circumstances were so far below my own, I ultimately determined my depth of regard and independence of situation allow me the freedom to marry as I please. My friendship with your good father also helped me justify such a union. I have held my feelings to myself for some months now, but I can no longer act as such.
“Dearest, loveliest Elizabeth, you must allow me to tell you how ardently I admire and love you.”
He searched her eyes and saw some astonishment, though undeniably mixed with something more than friendship. She wet her lips, swallowed, and nervously glanced away.
He saw this as a desire for him to continue. “My regard for you is long standing. When I first knew you at Longbourn, I respected your clever intellect and esteemed your spirited challenges, and I began to feel an affection that has only increased with time. I have seen how gentle and loving, how kind and loyal you are with your family, and that inspired my tender feelings to grow. I adore watching you tease and laugh, especially when it is directed at me. I am captivated by your loveliness, and I am lost when I look into your beautiful eyes.
“When I danced with you at the Netherfield ball, I could not but feel that you were the most enchanting creature I had ever beheld, and it was then that my heart truly became yours. During these weeks in Kent, as I have come to know you better, my regard has turned into a deep passion. After our walk in the park yesterday, I imagined you by my side at Pemberley and I knew what I must do. I have since thought of little else but to find time alone with you to declare myself.”
He paused and leaned in towards her, close enough that he could feel the tickling of her hair on his lips.
“You have beguiled me, bewitched me, enchanted me to my very soul. I long to be your lover, your co
nfidante, your best friend. My heart aches when I am away from your presence. I cannot continue this way. Please, Elizabeth, relieve my misery and say you will marry me.” He continued softly, “I love you so dearly,” and followed his declaration by taking her into his arms and pressing his lips gently against hers.
To say that Elizabeth was overwhelmed would be as much an understatement as it would be to say she was overjoyed. She could not believe how wonderful that first kiss felt, and her heart overflowed with love for him. She swallowed again and tried to gather her confused thoughts, but was not quite successful.
“I take it you did not bring me here to listen to my story about Mr. Wickham!” she retorted abruptly then immediately realised her mistake as he pulled back. He appeared confused and hurt as, once again, his archenemy interfered with his happiness.
She was dismayed and cried, “Oh, Mr. Darcy, I am so sorry! I cannot believe I could say such a thing! It seems that your declaration has affected my sensibilities!” Her eyes filled with tears, and she said with a wavering voice, “Oh, I have ruined it! You must despise my thoughtlessness!”
Determined not to lose her heart’s desire, she impulsively rose on her tiptoes, took his face in her hands, pulled his head down, and planted a firm kiss on his lips. She looked into his eyes and said with vehemence, “What I meant to say is I love you excessively! You surprised me, and I could not think, but I wanted to say I love you! If the offer still stands, I will say yes. Yes, yes, I will marry you.”
He looked at her with all the heartfelt joy that newly acknowledged lovers have and pulled her closer. Their noses bumped and she giggled, but Darcy silenced her with his lips, kissing her slowly, longingly, tenderly. She responded by wrapping her arms around his neck and felt his strong arms close tightly around her. He pulled his head away slightly while still holding her close and brushed the tips of his fingers along the edge of her face just under her curls, ending with a stroke along her neck. She could barely breathe.
“I am the happiest man in the world.”
“I . . . I want to know your Christian name,” she said.
“It is Fitzwilliam.”
“Fitzwilliam.” She said it slowly and lovingly, rolling each syllable in her mouth, earning another sweet kiss.
“I hope you do not mind . . . I am not quite in control of my rational mind right now . . . I may seem a bit odd. But I assure you, I plan . . . to return to my senses quite soon.” She spoke between short breaths as he continued trailing kisses on her hair, along her cheek and down her neck. She pulled away slightly and smiled. “I have never felt such a way! I have not been kissed before, and no one warned me how I would feel! I must admit, I would like to try it again. Perhaps I will improve sufficiently to keep my wits about me.”
Darcy laughed. “I was always attracted to your wit, my dearest.”
“My father will be surprised at our engagement. After Mr. Bingley courted Jane for a month, I think he expected that you wished to court me.”
“As much as I admire your father’s wisdom, I do not desire a formal courtship. I know my heart, and I feel I have seen enough of yours to know that you are the one to fulfil me, and I am grateful that you have paid me the compliment of accepting my suit. I wish to be married as soon as possible. I fear you will continue to tempt me with amorous kisses while your father insists upon a long engagement!”
“Perhaps you might kiss me again before the others catch on to our secret and insist we are not to be allowed alone together!” she said with such a manner of sweetness and archness that he could not resist. He pulled her body to align with his, parted his lips and encouraged hers open with gentle tugs on her lower lip. He touched his tongue to the inside of her lips and was pleasantly rewarded when she responded by imitation of his movements, moving her tongue to meet his.
Elizabeth experienced all that came with the newness of their relationship, the sense of wonderment from all the feelings in her heart and the unexpected response of her body to his touch. Tension coiled low in her belly as he pressed up against her. She felt him tighten his grasp and run his fingers along the seam of her back until they lightly caressed her buttocks. Her nipples felt tight, there was dampness between her legs, and she felt a hardness moving against her.
At length, Darcy broke the kiss and turned away from her. She stood there confused, knees weak, aching for the feel of his body against hers again, but unable to speak to request it. She gradually became aware of her situation as she relaxed her panting breaths and noticed that Darcy’s breathing seemed as laboured as her own. He returned to her and gently gathered her back into his arms, holding her cheek against his neck.
He murmured into her hair, “I am sorry, my love, I let my ardour overpower us. Are you angry with me?”
“No, no, I love you. Are you angry with me?”
He smiled. “Elizabeth, as much as I would like to continue in this manner, I have imposed upon you in a very improper way. We should not kiss like that until we are properly married.”
“I hardly think that you are correct,” she said playfully. “You must give me leave to insist that we kiss like that as often as possible from now on!”
He could not deny so enticing a request, and the moment became more heated. He struggled between his sense of propriety and his baser needs. His hands once again moved to her buttocks, and this time they remained, pressing her body against where his manhood strained his breeches. When he felt her moan against his mouth, somewhere in his lust-fogged brain, he recollected that her father was his friend, and some level of respect was due. With reluctance, he broke the kiss and gently pulled them apart. Once they were able to control their breathing, Darcy took her by the hand to a nearby bench. She snuggled up beside him, and he placed an arm around her.
He recalled what she had said earlier and asked, “What were you about to say concerning Wickham, Elizabeth?”
“I think I saw him near the garden at Hunsford.”
Lines etched into his forehead. “You are sure it was Wickham? When did you see him?”
“Yesterday, after you returned to Rosings, I heard a sound behind me and looked to see what it was. I thought I saw Mr. Wickham, but then Charlotte called to me, and when I looked again, he seemed to have disappeared. I wanted to warn you of his presence in the neighbourhood in case he was once again setting up credit and leaving you to pay his debts. I cannot understand why he seems to follow you wherever you are.”
“Do not worry yourself on my account. I will check with the tradesmen in Hunsford just to be safe. If you see him again, please let me know, but do not allow him near you. He is dangerous.”
“I promise to take care, Fitzwilliam,” Elizabeth said, gently stroking the side of his face. Her use of his given name earned her yet another kiss, which ended by his threading soft kisses down her neck, effectively distracting her from the topic at hand. After a few moments, Elizabeth recalled something.
“What did you mean about the unsuitability of my family? I know that we move in different circles, but if I had not already been inclined towards you, I would see fit to chastise you harshly for those arrogant words. It seems to me that you might have some improper pride! My first job as your wife will be to teach you to be more benevolent with others that you see as beneath you.”
“I am properly humbled, and I shall look forward to the lessons. I must once again apologise, my dearest; there is no unsuitability of your family. There never was, and you are correct; it was my foolish pride. I just wanted you not to be surprised by what your father is to disclose.”
“But what has my father told you? Why are you to be present at Longbourn?” she asked. “Jane said we must both go home post-haste regarding our settlements, but she did not go into specifics. My father mentioned that you have been privy to some of the legal aspects regarding my inheritance from my birth parents.”
“I have the same information, but I think we should leave it to your father to tell you if there is more.”
Wit
h the intention of distracting her from that train of thought, Darcy kissed her again, nibbling, tasting, savouring. This time, Elizabeth was bold enough to slide her hands around his waist under his coat. One of Darcy’s hands moved to cradle her head but when the other once again strayed towards her bottom, he knew it was too much and pulled back to look into her eyes. Her flushed face and lack of words proved his conjecture correct. He leaned close and murmured into her hair, “My love, we have been alone together much too long for propriety’s sake. Are you well enough to return to the others?”
“I will be in a moment,” she said. She adjusted the pins in her hair and smoothed the wrinkles from her gown, while calming her breath.
“It would be best if you go back first while I right myself, and I can follow in a few minutes,” he said.
She arose, looking at him with a glow of sweet animation, leaned over to give him a chaste peck on the lips and then scampered back towards the house. His eyes followed her the entire way.
***
“I do not know why you are so happy at the news!” the young woman said to her lover. “She returns to Hertfordshire the morning after tomorrow! There is no more time!”
“There is still plenty of time to do it,” he replied. “The advantage now is there will be little time between the incident and her departure, thus less time for questions to be asked. You must ensure she does not leave before it happens. Does she still walk out alone?”
“Sometimes, yes. She did just this morning. Mr. Darcy usually arrives to accompany her but he is not always there until she is well on her way. A servant goes to fetch him whenever she walks farther than the garden.”
“I have to catch her once she is no longer within sight of the house, but before Darcy shows. I cannot be recognized or captured when I importune her.”
