by Ola Wegner
"If you do not believe me, Colonel Fitzwilliam knows all of this, and he can confirm my version of events," he ended his tale. Not waiting for her reaction, and not looking at her, he walked to the window, opening it again.
Soon he felt a careful touch on his arm, and she was standing just next to him. "I do believe you, and I can only be deeply ashamed of my own blindness. You could not have possibly invented such a history about your own sister, of that I am certain. I apologize. I should not have given faith to his words so easily."
He turned his whole body to her. "I do not blame you," he assured warmly. "I know of your kindness. Wickham can be very convincing when he wishes to be."
Her eyes were confused as they searched his face. "Why did he tell such stories about you to perfect strangers? Why does he hate you so much?"
Darcy shrugged. "Trying to decipher the source of his motivation is not something I want to waste my time on. I do not want to see him, or hear about him. Please, promise me that we will not speak about that vile creature ever again."
"Of course," she agreed instantly. "Your poor sister," she whispered. "How is she now?"
"Better, but I doubt whether she will able to trust anyone in the future. She has retreated into her own world in a way. I have hoped that you would help me to bring her out of her shell. You are so good with people, unlike me."
She gave him a pale smile, but then went quiet again for a longer moment, staring away from him. Her bouts of silence and avoiding eye contact drove him almost to insanity.
"I understand that you need time to know me better," he started, trying to sound patient, even though he felt far from that. He was tired; he wanted to hear yes or no from her. To be precise, he wanted to hear yes. The negative answer would mean that he would have to rethink his strategy, but at least he would know where he stood with her. "Perhaps you would be willing to agree to a courtship first, a long engagement? You are in mourning, and it is natural that you are in no disposition for romance at the moment. If you wish to wait, to postpone our union, I will accept it."
She shook her head decidedly, "No, no courtship. If we were to make this happen, the wedding should take place as soon as possible."
He regarded her carefully. "I can wait for you," he stressed. "If only I have your promise, your word that you will marry me one day, I shall wait."
"No, I do not wish to wait. We can marry shortly after the funeral, as soon as you will be able to procure the license."
"Is that a yes?" he asked, not quite believing the sudden turn in their conversation.
"Yes."
He could not help the wide smile which broke across his face.
"Oh, darling," he gathered her into his arms. "Is that truly a yes?"
She nodded, her smile tight, her eyes sad.
She gasped, her eyes widening, as his arms tightened around her, and he picked her up, twirling her around a few times.
At last he put her down gently, loosening his hold, but still keeping her close. "Will you not smile for me?"
She smiled up at him, showing the row of small, white teeth. Soon the smile disappeared though. "I have one condition though," she spoke nervously.
He leaned into her intently, "I am listening."
"You must…" she closed her eyes for a moment, before opening them, her face blushing but determined. “I must have a legal assurance, a document of sorts, signed by you that you will take care of my mother and sisters. I will ask Uncle Gardiner to discuss it with you on my behalf."
She stood stiffly in his arms, her eyes on the floor.
"Of course, Elizabeth, I promised this to Mr. Gardiner, and I am promising this to you. You will have the opportunity to read the settlement, and we will introduce any changes if it is not to your liking."
"No, that will not be necessary," she said quickly. "I trust my uncle. I do not want to see it, read it."
"As you wish," he agreed.
"Thank you," she said, again avoiding looking at him.
He sighed. She was still distant, but overall, he should be pleased. She had said yes. He had their whole life to convince her to accept and love him. He was overjoyed that she did not want a long engagement. How soon could they marry, a month, two? Yes, a month should be enough to deal with all the matters and find a suitable home for the Bennets around Meryton and help them to move there. There was much to do, but it was in his interest to do it quickly.
Slowly, he brought her closer again, so her stiff form could be supported against his body. It was time to start the wooing. He put his arm around her, rubbing her back. "How are you bearing, dearest? May I assist you with anything?" He kissed her forehead.
"No, thank you," she murmured.
"Perhaps there is something I may help you with," he insisted.
"You are doing enough already," she responded.
He walked her to the cushioned bench and motioned both of them to sit on it. "You must know that I enjoy helping you."
"Well…" she started, her voice undecided.
"Yes," he leaned into her eagerly.
"Tis about my trunk… I was forced to leave it at Hunsford. All the seats in the post chaise had been already booked when I decided to go with them. They squeezed me in, but I could not take my trunk. Charlotte promised to send it at the first opportunity. However, it probably will take around two weeks; likely not until Maria, her sister, is about to return to Lucas Lodge from Kent. Mr. Collins may arrive sooner, but I am not certain whether he will wish to deal with my trunk."
"Speak no more," he covered her hand with his. He was pleased that he could do something for her. He liked to be useful, even if it was a small thing like fetching her trunk. "I will deal with it yet today. Your trunk shall be awaiting you at Longbourn in two days time at the latest."
"Thank you," she answered sincerely. "I have most of my gowns packed there."
He reached his hand to touch the back of her graceful neck. "I have noticed that it is not your dress that you are wearing today."
Her cheeks reddened as he stroked her nape with the pads of his fingers. It was an innocent touch, but he was pleased to see that she was responding to him.
"Yes, it belongs to my aunt," she smoothed the material over her knees, her hands shaking slightly. "She was kind enough to lend it. I cannot wear Jane's dresses, as they are much too long for me," she explained. "She is so much taller that I."
They spoke briefly about the plans for their journey to Hertfordshire. Elizabeth told him that they were leaving tomorrow, early in the morning. As they returned to the drawing room, Elizabeth went straight into Mrs. Gardiner's embrace, and soon after, Jane's. The women whispered something to each other, but he could not hear. He was invited to stay for tea, but refused. He sensed that Elizabeth needed her time now away from him and wished to talk with her aunt and sister in private. He also had many matters to see to before tomorrow.
Chapter Seven
All three women, Mrs. Gardiner, Elizabeth and Jane, followed Darcy’s tall figure with their eyes as he left the room.
Jane took her sister’s hand, giving it a light squeeze. “How was it, Lizzy?” she asked compassionately.
“Better than I expected,” Elizabeth smiled bravely. “He was agreeable; he truly tried to be cordial. We explained a great deal to each other. I find it difficult to comprehend all he has told me.” A small crease appeared between her eyebrows as she remembered what she had heard about Georgiana Darcy and Mr. Wickham. She shuddered at the thought; poor girl, to be used and deceived at such a young age by someone whom she had considered a family friend.
“Judging by the gentleman’s expression, I dare say that you came to an understanding,” Mrs. Gardiner spoke, her expression betraying how pleased she was with the turn of the events.
“Yes, Aunt,” Elizabeth confirmed. “We are indeed engaged.”
Mrs. Gardiner touched her face. “Why so sad, Lizzy? It cannot be that bad.”
Elizabeth fisted her palms on her knees growling with
frustration. “I do not know, Aunt. A part of me wants to run from him and never see him again.”
Mrs. Gardiner was silent for a moment. “We do not wish to force him on you, Lizzy. If you truly feel that you cannot accept him…” the woman’s voice trailed.
“No, that was not what I meant,” Elizabeth said. “I know that I could never forgive myself should I reject him now in our current situation when with this marriage I can ensure security for Mama and my sisters. It is only…” she sighed, biting her lower lip hard.
“What do you want to say, sister?” Jane encouraged gently.
“I am so angry with him for putting me in this situation. I have always thought him to be a rude, arrogant, proud man, whose company I did not enjoy. I had him classified into the group of people I disliked. Then suddenly he comes to me asking for my hand in marriage. He is so different - kinder - even the tone of his voice has changed - is so much gentler - when he addresses me.”
“You need time, Lizzy,” Mrs. Gardiner spoke gently. “Give him a chance and let things happen naturally. As you are in mourning, I believe it only adds to your discontent of the situation.”
“You are right, Aunt. I know that you are right. However, it is difficult to do as you say,” Elizabeth whispered brokenly.
“All in good time, Lizzy…all in good time.” The older woman patted her back.
She smiled ruefully. “I do not have much time at my disposal. The wedding will take place shortly after the funeral. I do not know how soon exactly, but within a month, I believe.”
“Did he demand that?” Mrs. Gardiner asked, her much tone sharper.
Elizabeth shook her head. “No, Aunt, it was my condition. He said that he was willing to wait, allow me as much time as I need.”
“I am afraid I do not understand, Lizzy.” The woman frowned. “Do you not wish for a period of courtship before making your vows? He is offering you the time you so desperately seem to want, time not only to know him better, but to grieve as well.”
Elizabeth stood up, and began pacing in front of the fireplace. “It would not change anything! Can you not see?” she cried, wrenching her fingers together. “I still have to marry him to repay his generosity. I prefer to do it sooner rather than later. That way, I will feel more honest with myself, and not so indebted to him. He will have what he wants—what he paid for without delay.”
“Oh, Lizzy, you cannot think like this,” Mrs. Gardiner reasoned. “You are being overly dramatic about it all. He loves you, wants to marry you and take care of you. It is all perfectly natural, as it should be. You sound as if you believe you are selling yourself.”
Elizabeth stopped her pacing and stared at her feet. “That is how I feel about it,” she acknowledged quietly.
“Oh, Lizzy,” Mrs. Gardiner whispered compassionately. “You cannot think like that; you will only torture yourself.”
“I am only glad that I can help my family. It is the only bright point I can see,” Elizabeth answered dully. “The thought that Mama and my sisters will be secured brings me happiness and peace. I can live with that thought.”
Jane stood up then, and with the tears in her eyes, she hugged Elizabeth. “I wish it could be me, Lizzy. It breaks my heart to see you so miserable.”
Mrs. Gardiner reached for Elizabeth’s hand, pulling both of her nieces back on the sofa beside her. “There is a happiness to be had for you there too,” she spoke with conviction. “I am certain of that.”
Elizabeth said nothing, only stared at the fireplace in front of her. The day was unusually cold and rainy for the late April, so the fire was started.
“Lizzy,” Jane’s sweet voice captured her attention. “I agree with Aunt that you indeed see all this in colours too dark. Mr. Darcy has faults to be sure; however, he has many good traits of character as well. Even you have to admit that indeed he is not Mr. Collins.”
Elizabeth smiled despite herself. “No, he is not. He is more pleasing to the eyes and smells much better.”
Jane smiled as her sister referred to their cousin's well known disregard of personal hygiene.
“You noticed his smell then?” Mrs. Gardiner asked cheekily, raising her eyebrow.
Elizabeth shot her a confused look, before blushing intensely. “No, of course not,” she murmured, frowning. She did not want to give impression that she was sniffing Mr. Darcy. Nevertheless, she had noticed that his scent was comforting - clean and spicy, alluring even. “It is a relief though, that I can stand by his side without fighting the urge to return my last meal, as it is in the case of Mr. Collins. Poor Charlotte, I have wondered more than once how she can stand him.”
“Perhaps she should convince her husband to take a bath more often,” Jane offered reasonably. “I am certain that it is in her power.”
Mrs. Gardiner decided to steer the conversation back to the main point as she spoke lightly, “Well, I believe that we can safely state then that among Mr. Darcy’s admirable qualities is the fact that his smell is appealing. I may as well add that he is a very handsome man - so tall too.”
Elizabeth glared at her.
“You cannot deny it, Elizabeth,” Jane supported their aunt shyly.
“No, I cannot,” Elizabeth admitted at last.
“He is a good brother and a good friend,” Jane said.
Elizabeth wanted to argue with the last, remembering Darcy’s interference with Bingley and Jane, but she remained quiet. It was not her intention to remind Jane of the sad past which still had to be painful to her, even if she stated otherwise.
“I suppose,” she said after a moment of hesitation.
At least he was a loving brother who cared for his sister. She could not deny that. The pain in his expression when he had spoken to her about his sister’s attempted elopement with Wickham was too tangible, too raw to fake.
“He is rich and independent. He can provide well for you and all the children you will have one day,” Mrs. Gardiner pointed out.
“He truly likes you, sister. I believe he cares for you deeply,” Jane added sweetly.
Elizabeth nodded, seemingly agreeing with them, but said nothing. Her sister and aunt meant well; she knew they wanted to lift her spirits, but they were not those who were about to marry a man they hardly knew.
“Mistress,” the servant’s voice brought their attention.
The children’s nanny came closer, holding little Fred in her arms. The older children abandoned their activities as well, gathering around the sofa. “I think that Master Fred is warm again.”
Mrs. Gardiner took the baby in her arms instantly, touching her lips to its forehead. “Yes, indeed, he is feverish again,” she agreed worriedly. “It is the third time this month.” She bounced the baby as he whimpered. His little face was scrunched in discomfort, tears shaping in the corner of his eyes, running down his fat cheeks. Glancing down at the rest of their children, she said, “Now the older ones will become sick too. It is only matter of time,” she added, resigned.
Little Fred’s condition put an end to the discussion about Mr. Darcy for the rest of the day. The women concentrated their efforts on comforting the child, and helping him feel better, hoping that his illness would not turn into something more serious.
***
Darcy nursed his drink in the privacy of the study. It had been a long, emotionally draining day, but he had managed to accomplish everything he had set out to achieve.
The brightest point of his day was understandably Elizabeth’s agreement to their engagement.
What had come later was considerably less pleasant.
After leaving the Gardiners’ home, he had contacted his solicitor so the man could begin preparing the marriage settlement and other necessary documents.
Next he had called on the Bingleys, hoping that his friend would not be home, and that their conversation could be naturally postponed. However, Bingley was present, and Darcy had no choice but to reveal his involvement with Jane. He had confessed that he knew that she had spent the
entire winter in London, and that he had kept it from him, or at least omitted to tell him the truth.
His friend was less than pleased; however, Darcy was not certain whether he was more angry with him or his sisters. His mood seemed to improve vastly when Darcy assured him that according to her sister, Miss Bennet had not forgotten him, and still thought about him warmly. Darcy understood that Bingley’s intention was to return to Netherfield instantly, pay his respects and condolences to Mrs. Bennet and attend the funeral. Bingley had even suggested visiting the Gardiners yet today so he could see Jane. Darcy convinced him that it was not the best idea. The sisters were surely busy with their preparations for travel to Hertfordshire with their aunt and uncle tomorrow morning.
With Bingley returning to Meryton, Elizabeth should be pleased with him. That thought warmed his heart. Surely, she would not hold the matter with Bingley and her sister against him any longer.
It was dinner time when he said goodbye to Bingley, but he had one matter left to attend. Now, being engaged to his dearest Elizabeth, the presence of Annette in his life did not sit well with him.
He had sent her a note earlier in the day informing her that she should expect his visit. It was a few minutes past seven when he knocked at her door. Annette lived in a small but comfortable house in a respectable, quiet neighbourhood. He had not bought it for her; she had already owned it when they met.
She admitted him in a negligee, all smiles, saying how happy she was to see him after such a long time and how she had missed him. Her gown was more see-through than dressed, her long hair let free as he liked. He turned his eyes away from her, not wishing to look. She did not seem to notice, and approached him bodily, putting her lips on his neck, her hand stroking him through the lap of his trousers. He cleared his throat and pushed her away, asking her to put on a robe before they could talk.
