The Only Way: A Tale of Pride and Prejudice

by Ola Wegner

  He cupped her cheek and tiled her face so that she looked him in the eye. “He did not mind.”

  She took a deep breath and released it slowly. “I fell in love with him,” she confessed, her voice trembling. “So much so that it sometimes frightens my heart.” She took his hand from her waist to put it against her bosom. “Can you feel how rapidly it is beating?”

  His only response was to lean down, burying his face in her neck. Soon she felt wetness on her skin.

  “Come,” he murmured thickly, pushing away from her and brushing the tears from his eyes with the back of his hand.

  “Where?” she giggled as she tried to keep up with his fast footsteps across the lawn. They moved away from the lake.

  “You shall see.”

  As they approached the stables, Darcy barked orders to have his horse prepared.

  “Where are we going?” Elizabeth questioned as finally he lifted her up on the saddle and mounted behind her.

  “For a ride,” he answered, kicking the horse into a fast trot. “I have wished to show you a certain place for some time, but for whatever reason I have not. I suppose I did not feel the time was right, but now it is.”

  They rode fast for at least half an hour through a mostly unbeaten path to a hillside before they stopped, leaving the horse at the foot of the hill.

  “What is up there?” Elizabeth asked, staring at the tall trees growing above them.

  Darcy tied the horse to a low branch of a nearby tree, so he could graze. “It is a surprise, but I assure you that you will not regret coming here.”

  He went first, helping her to climb behind him. The ground was rocky in places and her slippers were hardly appropriate for such activities, but his strong hold kept her safe from falling.

  She was visibly out of breath once they reached the top. Pulling her hand, Darcy insisted she continue, his face animated with excitement. “Come, it is only a few yards from here.”

  Suddenly the trees and bushes gave way to a clearing where she could see a breath taking view of Pemberley. It was nestled in the wide valley below them, surrounded by dark forests, hills and the lake.

  “How beautiful,” she breathed, her eyes devouring the scene.

  “This, my dear wife, is the most spectacular view of Pemberley according to the Darcys. As far I know, only the family is aware of it.”

  “I lack the words,” Elizabeth marvelled. “Someone should paint it.”

  “Perhaps one day. It would take a true master with exceptional talent to give this view justice.”

  “I cannot argue that,” she responded, tearing her eyes from the view, to look at Darcy. “Thank you for bringing me here.”

  He accepted her thanks in silence as his gaze focused on her lips. She took a step forward and stood on tiptoes. Staring into his intense eyes, she leaned in to kiss him.

  One by one pieces of clothing fell to the ground and Darcy took his greatcoat and spread it on the grass. Elizabeth lay down and opened her body to him. This time was not slow and careful like their usual lovemaking, but fast and impatient. As they lay spent, he adjusted her head on his arm and shoulder so she would be more comfortable. And after a moment, he noticed tears brimming in her dark eyes.

  “Are you well?” he whispered, his concern evident as he stroked a wisp of hair away from her face.

  She nodded as the tears ran down her cheeks one by one. “So beautiful,” she whispered. “I love you.” She pulled herself higher, hiding her face in his neck.

  His rich laugh echoed among the trees. “And I love you, but I believe that it is not a reason for tears.” His hand moved up and down her back in a soothing gesture.

  “I know.” She sat up, unashamed of her nudity, and reached into the pocket of her dress for a handkerchief to dry her face. “I am sorry, I am being silly.”

  “Shush,” he tucked her back to him. “Sensitivity is not silly.”

  She must have fallen asleep in his arms, because the next thing she felt was a nudge to her shoulder followed by the sound of a sharp voice. “Elizabeth, Elizabeth wake up, we must go.”

  Blinking several times, she brought her fists to her eyes, trying to rub the sleep from them. Why was it so dark? Darcy had rolled her off his shoulder and stood gathering his clothes.

  Elizabeth rose up on her elbows as shattering thunder rumbled, shaking the ground and making her shriek.

  Darcy was already dressed. Taking her arm, he pulled her to her feet.

  “What time is it?” she asked worriedly, noting the black sky.

  “Seven; we overslept,” he exclaimed before a string of curses left his mouth. Elizabeth stared in shock, wide-eyed. She would have never suspected that her husband possessed such a vivid and colourful vocabulary.

  “Get dressed,” he ordered, his tone the harshest he had ever used with her.

  With shaking hands she began gathering her scattered undergarments, putting them on. As soon as her stays were secured, he helped her step into her dress, buttoning it at the back with quick fingers. The cold wind whipped through her thin dress, making her shiver. Seeing this, Darcy put his great coat over her shoulders.

  “You will be cold,” she protested as he hurriedly buttoned it around her.

  Ignoring her objection, he took her hand firmly in his. “Come, we must get down the hill before the rain catches us.”

  The wind grew stronger every minute, blowing her long skirt like a parachute sail making it difficult for her to move. Big raindrops began to fall, hitting them like angry fists as they descended. Elizabeth had always prided herself in having no fear of storms and loud thunder. Ever since she was small, she had liked to sit by the windows and watch magnificent bolts of lightning illuminate the sky. She realised now how ignorant she had been of the danger. Observing a thunderstorm from the safety of a warm home and being caught in the midst of one was vastly different.

  Reaching the bottom of the hill, Elizabeth was very relieved to be standing on flat ground once again. Clinging to Darcy’s arm, she could not see very far ahead as a wall of rain in front of them plunged the area into darkness.

  Suddenly another string of vulgar words escaped her husband’s mouth causing her to look about. Their horse was gone.

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  “Where have you lost my sister and your friend, Mr. Bingley?” Jane asked archly as she and Georgiana rounded the lake.

  “I thought it would be better for my chaste soul to leave their company,” Bingley replied, eliciting a soft giggle from Georgiana with his comment. Seeing the girl’s reaction, he leaned towards her. “I dare say Miss Darcy here can tell us more on the subject.”

  Georgiana blushed, her eyes downcast, shaking her head no as a small smile played on her lips.

  “Do not tease Miss Darcy, sir,” Jane declared. “You cannot expect Georgiana to gossip about her own brother and sister.”

  “I am pleased with how happy my brother is,” Georgiana spoke up with sincerity. “I have never seen him so content. I can remember all the years he was often sad. He seemed burdened and lonely.”

  “They are a good match,” Bingley offered.

  “Oh, yes, the very best,” Georgiana agreed with feeling. “Elizabeth is such a good influence on Brother, on all of us really. I feel as if she has always been with us.”

  The three of them stood for a moment, silence prevailing as each was lost in their own thoughts.

  Bingley spoke first. “Shall we join Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner for tea?”

  Jane nodded. “Yes, indeed; it is becoming increasingly hot.”

  In a slow stroll they returned to the manor.

  ***

  “Uncle, let us speak now before Lizzy joins our company,” Jane said quietly as she sat down beside Mr. And Mrs. Gardiner with a cup of tea in her hands. “Can you tell me whether you had an opportunity to talk with Mama about Lydia?”

  Mr. Gardiner nodded, a heavy frown marring his forehead. “I stopped by Meryton on my way here. Initially I planned to spend a
night at Purvis Lodge, but I must say that after only one hour in my sister’s company I changed my mind. I am not certain whether it is the grief after your father’s death being displayed in an unusual way, but she was insufferable. It was impossible to have a rational conversation with her.”

  “I suspected as much,” Jane whispered. Her hands beginning to shake so much that she set the cup on a nearby table.

  “I do not even wish to remember the things she said to me,” Mr. Gardiner said with lowered voice, before leaning towards his wife and niece to be sure no one could overhear them.

  A quick glance about determined that the children were playing by themselves on the terrace while Georgiana was occupied with her music sheets and Bingley stood beside her.

  “The very comfortable home she now occupies she referred to as a rat’s nest,” he continued. “She spoke badly of Lizzy, claiming that she has abandoned her and your sisters to poverty while living in luxury herself.”

  Jane grasped the material of her skirt, her lips pressed in a thin line. “Poor Lizzy sacrificed herself for Mama, for all our sisters, and this is how she repays her. Thank God that Mr. Darcy loves her, but what if he was a different kind of man? I cannot understand Mama, I cannot. I know that she was very harsh with Lizzy the last time they spoke.”

  “Forgive me, Jane, but I was not able to speak with her about Lydia the way you and Lizzy wanted.” Mr. Gardiner’s expression was apologetic. “I left before I said too much, afraid of stressing our relationship even more, possibly severing it forever.”

  “What about Kitty and Mary?” Jane enquired.

  “Mary was closed up in the music room with her pianoforte while Kitty was visiting your aunt Philips. It seems that poor girl spends the whole of her days at my sister’s house.”

  “I understand, Uncle,” Jane sighed, smiling sadly. “Thank you for trying. I only hope that Lydia will not involve herself in anything scandalous while in Brighton, ruining her reputation forever.”

  “I think our only hope is that she is too poor to entice anyone, even with Mr. Darcy’s settlement,” Mrs. Gardiner remarked. “As for my sister, I am pained to say, if she continues with this behaviour she will alienate everyone. She will be left alone in the world, never to see her daughters or grandchildren.”

  Their conversation ended when Georgiana walked over to them.

  “I am beginning to worry,” the girl said, glancing in the direction of the tall windows. “Lizzy and Brother have not returned and the clouds are gathering. It is so hot and suffocating today that I am certain there will be a thunderstorm.”

  Bingley came to stand behind her. “Do not fret, Miss Darcy. I am certain they will return any moment,” he offered brightly. “Even if the rain surprises them, Darcy is perfectly capable of finding shelter. He would never allow anything to happen to Mrs. Darcy.”

  ***

  Elizabeth slowly awakened to the sensation of a gentle finger stroking her cheek. She snuggled closer, inhaling the familiar scent of her husband. Yesterday had been a very eventful day, to say the least. For a short while she had been truly frightened when they had discovered their horse had bolted and run off.

  Thankfully, her husband had not lost his composure even if he had said a few choice words about the horse. Stating that there was a farmhouse half a mile away, he led the way confidently despite the fact that their visibility was obstructed by a thick curtain of rain. Elizabeth had succeeded in visiting all the tenant families, but still had little idea which household they had approached. Only after Darcy’s persistent banging, when the door had swung open and they were ushered inside the warm house, did she recognise the Finney family. They had four sons and one baby girl, recently born. Mrs. Finney was a very lively, talkative woman while her husband and sons were mostly silent, speaking mainly when they must.

  Darcy and Elizabeth had been given dry clothes, a seat by the open hearth and fed a hearty dinner. Her husband had agreed with Mr. Finney that the storm might very well last the entire night, and thus it was too risky to attempt to return to the manor before morning.

  Mrs. Finney had proudly shown them to the back of the house, to what she called a guest room. It was a small chamber, rather narrow with one window. A small dresser and a moderately sized bed was all it held. Nevertheless, it was very clean. The floor was painted white and the flowery design of the wallpaper matched the window curtains. The tenants were accustom to retiring much earlier than the inhabitants of the manor, so therefore the entire family was in their beds quite early, with all the lights out.

  A kiss on her forehead had made Elizabeth open her eyes. “Good morning,” she whispered, her voice hoarse.

  Darcy raised on his elbow, studying her closely. “Are you well?” he questioned, his voice full of concern.

  “Very well,” she answered. “I had a good night’s rest.”

  He frowned. “Does your head or your throat hurt? Your voice is hoarse.”

  “I always sound like that in the morning. I feel quite well, I assure you.”

  “I do not wish you to catch a cold due to my negligence.”

  She yawned into her open palm, and began rubbing sleep from her eyes with her other hand. “First, I am never sick, and you certainly were not negligent last evening. You knew what to do, never once losing your head; you brought us safely here.”

  “I put us in the dangerous situation to begin with.”

  “Hardly,” she dismissed his assertion. “We both fell asleep.”

  “I should have known better.” Despite her reassurances Darcy kept chastising himself. “I should have perceived that a storm was coming.”

  She leaned over his chest. “Nonsense! You saved us.”

  “It is very gracious of you to say that,” he said, a small smile beginning to play at the corners of his mouth.

  Feeling the tension in his body, she ran her hand over his chest. “You are so tense, relax.” She kissed the dimple between his collarbone. As her hand moved lower, she teased. “So hard.”

  “Do not tease.” His expression was raw, his eyes vulnerable.

  “Me?” She pointed to herself before tugging at the opening of his nightshirt so she could place kisses on the exposed parts of his chest. They had been given clean nightclothes, long and practical, made of thick, white cloth—the sort of clothes this family wore.

  Gathering a handful of the crisp material in her hand, she pulled the nightshirt up, exposing her husband’s body from the waist down. Slowly she shifted, lowering her head to kiss the dark line of hair leading from his stomach downward. Then confidently she took his manhood in her hand, touching him softly and eliciting a low groan.

  “Shush.” She looked up at him. “You must be quiet or I will stop.”

  Giving a quick nod, he put a fist in his mouth, while burying his other hand in her hair.

  She kept stroking, all the while placing small kisses on his stomach.

  “Could you...?” he whispered, as his voice hitched.

  “What?”

  “You know...” He gazed down at her hand. “...with your mouth.” When she hesitated, he shook his head. “Does not matter; just keep to what you were doing.” His head fell back on the pillow.

  Slowly, Elizabeth resumed her stroking. She was not certain what he wanted from her and she hated to think that he had received this type of thing from the women of his past—from Annette. Quickly, she pushed those thoughts aside. She was his wife. She, Elizabeth, and those women were of no importance now. She prayed that he had no cause to repine when it came to their intimate relations, though some things he liked were very strange to her. Still, she saw no reason why she should refuse him. Bending forward, she placed a small kiss on the pinkish end of his manhood.

  “Oh, yes, Lizzy,” was his immediate reaction, while his strong hand cupped the nape of her neck, guiding her gently down.

  While indeed it was a most strange thing to do in her opinion, she was neither repulsed by it nor did it make her feel humiliated.
>
  “Just like that,” he murmured. As she observed him, not interrupting her work, she noted that his expression was one of pure bliss, even more so than when he was inside of her.

  Soon enough she sensed that he was nearing his completion, so she sucked hard one last time, replacing her mouth with both of her hands. She made certain that he emptied himself into her hands until not a drop was left as she did not wish to soil the sheets, or the borrowed nightclothes. They were guests here, and Mrs. Finney had most likely given them her very best linens. It would be very rude to dirty them in such a manner.

  She padded to the dresser, where she cleansed her hands in a bowl of cold water, before opening the window and pouring it out on the ground.

  “Are you pleased?” she enquired, returning to bed and snuggling against him.

  His arm draped lazily around her, a small smile playing on his lips. “You are the best, Lizzy, the very best.”

  A warm sensation filled her chest at his words. Some might think that she would feel offended with his words, but she was not in the least. No, she was proud of herself.

  A knock on the door got their attention. “Master Darcy, your clothes are dry. I will leave them by the door,” Mrs. Finney proclaimed. “Breakfast is ready. Our eldest boy rode to Pemberley at first light to tell them that you are with us.”

  “Thank you kindly, Mrs. Finney,” Elizabeth replied. “We will join you shortly. However, may we ask for more water as we used most of the bowl?”

  “Right away, Mistress!” she exclaimed cheerily.

  Elizabeth crept to the door, and after a moment of listening to determine that there was no one outside, she opened it and reached for their clothes with a quick hand.

  A few minutes later there was another knock. “Water for you,” this time a high pitched boy voice spoke, and Elizabeth guessed that it must have been one of the sons. Upon opening the door no one was about, but a small water pail sat in the hall. She brought it into the room and as she poured the water into the bowl, she became aware that their clothes were not only dried but ironed as well.