by Lory Lilian
“You were not interrupting us, my dear. In fact, there is something I wanted to share with you—something nobody else knows at the moment. I wanted you to be the first to hear it.”
Elizabeth looked at Darcy and smiled at him—a smile that left little doubt for Georgiana.
“Sir, I think that, before going further with this, before even speaking to my father, we should ask for Georgiana’s opinion on the matter.”
“Oh, Elizabeth, you are engaged,” cried the girl the next instant, and in a gesture that shocked her brother, she threw herself at Elizabeth, embracing her so forcefully that they almost toppled over.
“Well, I dare say her opinion is not completely unfavourable.” Darcy barely checked his laughter while his heart danced with joy at his sister’s hearty approval.
“I am so happy, Brother.” Georgiana hurried to embrace him, too.
“I am very happy, too, dearest.”
“When did you propose? May I ask that? Is it true that nobody else knows yet—not even Miss Bennet? And you did not speak to Mr. Bennet yet?”
“Dearest, let us all sit a moment and talk calmly,” he suggested, and the ladies followed him to the sofa. Elizabeth seated herself between the siblings, one of her hands held by Georgiana; Darcy took the other.
“I proposed to Miss Elizabeth earlier today, and it is true: no one else has been informed yet. I plan to speak to Mr. Bennet later today.”
“Oh, Elizabeth, thank you for telling me first!”
“Georgiana, my dear, I am so happy to see your enthusiastic approval, but you must take into consideration a painful fact: Mr. Wickham will be a part of my family. It is possible that his name will be mentioned often by my mother and sisters, and you may even meet him again someday. Will you be able to endure that?”
“I hope that day will not be soon; I have no desire to see him or hear of him again. But that will not change how happy I am to have you as my sister.”
“Georgiana— Darcy attempted, but she stopped him.
“Oh, let us not be talking about such unpleasant subjects now. I could not care less about George Wickham. Instead, you had better tell me—have you fixed the wedding day? And did you inform Cassandra? She will be very angry if you keep her ignorant. Where will you marry?”
Her exuberance, though a little forced, left little choice for Darcy and Elizabeth, and after a short glance, they decided to indulge her.
“No, my dear, we have not decided anything yet! And I beg you, speak a little lower or everybody will find out long before I am able to speak to Mr. Bennet.”
“Forgive me,” she whispered, covering her mouth with her palm, and then she continued. “But you will marry soon, I hope?”
Darcy laughed and squeezed Elizabeth’s hand, unable to tell his young sister how eager he was for a short engagement; they chatted a few more minutes until finally they all decided it was time to join the others downstairs.
***
At first, they stopped at the door in wonder and surprise, hearing the bustle inside the drawing room. It was not difficult to distinguish Bingley’s joyful voice accompanied by that of Lady Cassandra.
They entered, and it took Bingley less than a moment before he ran to Elizabeth and then to Georgiana and Darcy, demanding their congratulations. On the sofa, a blushing and highly embarrassed Jane Bennet hardly dared to look at them. A few paces further on a settee, Mrs. Hurst’s countenance was dark and bitter; Mr. Hurst was enjoying a glass of wine. Lady Cassandra was standing in the middle of the room, clearly enjoying herself.
In that din, it was an unquestionable success for Darcy to be able to calm Bingley and properly introduce his sister to Miss Jane Bennet. Georgiana offered her congratulations, and Jane graciously accepted them; finally, a calmer and more intelligible conversation commenced.
“As soon as Mr. Bennet gives us his blessing, I think we should plan an engagement ball,” said Mr. Bingley enthusiastically. “Of course, if you will agree to it, Miss Bennet,” he added, looking at Jane.
“An excellent idea, sir,” Lady Cassandra agreed.
“That would be lovely, sir,” replied Jane Bennet, still incredulous that everything had happened in such a short time.
The conversation continued with everyone’s involvement, and even Mrs. Hurst was forced to show an interest in her brother’s engagement and future plans.
The visitors finally prepared to leave, and naturally, Mr. Bingley accompanied them, as did Darcy—much to Elizabeth’s delight.
The Bennet sisters received a warm farewell from Lady Cassandra and Miss Darcy. Mrs. Hurst was all politeness, expressing her pleasure with the happy news. However, as soon as the guests left, she excused herself as not feeling well and retired to her room. In a great hurry, she wrote a long, furious letter to her oblivious sister in London, insisting that she return to Netherfield immediately.
***
“Elizabeth, when shall we share our news with your family?” Darcy asked as he helped her descend from the carriage in front of Longbourn’s main door.
“Oh, let my sister and Mr. Bingley have the joy of this evening, please! Let this be their day; they have waited so long, and my sister is so happy that I cannot do anything to disturb her state of bliss.”
“I have waited for this day, too, Elizabeth. I am not a patient man, you know. I have no desire to wait any longer; I want to have the right to court you, enjoy your company, and be certain I have your father’s blessing. I still cannot believe you have accepted me,” he replied passionately.
Elizabeth moved a little closer so their arms brushed against each other as they walked.
“I am not asking you to wait long…only a little more…because you see,” she blushed slightly in mortification as she admitted, “when my mother hears of our understanding, she will give little attention to Mr. Bingley and direct all her interest to you, I am certain of it. So perhaps I am a selfish being, and I am asking to keep our engagement secret for a little longer not only for my sister’s peace of mind but for my own, as well.”
“You are a wise lady, Elizabeth—a very wise lady indeed,” he replied after a few moments of meditation. They had reached the entrance to Longbourn.
“I am considering asking for a private meeting with Mr. Bennet as soon as possible—perhaps tomorrow morning—as I do not wish to distress him overmuch for one evening, and after that I will allow you the complete liberty to decide when you want to publicly announce our engagement. Would that be acceptable, Elizabeth?”
“And you are a wise man, sir,” she responded, teasing him tenderly as they both entered the house.
The evening passed in much agitation and considerable torment for Mrs. Bennet and everyone else in the house. Mr. Bingley’s interview with Mr. Bennet was quite short and completely satisfactory for both gentlemen. Immediately thereafter, the wonderful news was announced to Mrs. Bennet, and for a moment, she seemed to faint in happy distress. Fortunately, she soon recovered, and her loudly expressed satisfaction overwhelmed Mr. Bingley, who was embraced frequently, warmly and maternally.
Miss Jane Bennet was glowing in complete happiness; every time she passed near Elizabeth, she whispered how fortunate she felt and wondered how she would ever be able to bear so much felicity. Elizabeth smiled at her in loving understanding. Her own felicity was difficult to bear.
The ladies retired to prepare for dinner, and of course, the gentlemen were asked to join the family—an invitation they accepted gladly.
The guests were seated at the table on each side of Mr. Bennet, and—to Darcy’s delight—Elizabeth took the place next to him. The evening passed unmarked by anything extraordinary except Mrs. Bennet’s exuberance, which increased when Mr. Bingley announced plans for a ball within two weeks’ time. From that moment, she spoke of little else except the beautiful bride Jane would be and the perfect wife she would make.
To his utter shock and complete delight, while he was speaking to Mr. Bennet, Darcy felt Elizabeth move slightly closer to h
im. Without thinking, he stretched his leg to the right and touched hers. He felt her tense for a moment, but then she relaxed and even joined the gentlemen’s conversation. She never withdrew her leg from his during the entire dinner.
Furthermore, as nobody seemed to pay much attention to them, their fingers brushed against each other more than once while they ate—as if by mistake—and Darcy’s eyes were captured by Elizabeth’s lips, wet from the sweet, red wine. Not as sweet and as red as her mouth, he said to himself, and the desire of actually tasting her lips again become intensely painful.
“Do you know at what time you will call tomorrow, sir?” whispered Elizabeth when her father was conversing with Mr. Bingley.
“As soon as it is proper for a call,” he answered with the same low voice. “But perhaps we should talk more about that tomorrow morning,” he added, and she looked at him inquiringly. Then she blushed as she understood his meaning.
“Very well, sir.”
She could not say much as she was afraid she would betray her emotions. In a deep part of her heart, there was still a shadow of fear and doubt that her felicity would last. She was still incredulous that everything that occurred that day had truly happened: that he finally proposed and she accepted, that Georgiana shared their happiness, and that Jane and Bingley were engaged. Could such perfect bliss be real and everlasting?
Yet, it must be true—if for nothing else than the proof of his strong leg pressing intimately against hers—and she shamelessly and wantonly enjoyed the novel sensations that rose inside her from the touch of his body. And his lips—which now took small sips of wine from his glass—his lips so demanding yet so tender, capturing her mouth, exploring it…
She became dizzy; countless chills made her shiver as she burned inside. She rushed to take her glass and almost dropped it; his hand reached to catch the goblet, covering her hand with his own.
“Miss Bennet, are you well?”
“Yes…yes, Mr. Darcy, I am quite well, thank you.” She felt his stare fixing her profile, but he said nothing more, for which she was grateful. She drank a little wine and then asked for cold water and swallowed it quickly. When she dared to look at him from the corner of her eye, she saw a hidden smile twisting his lips.
“Is there a reason for your amusement, sir?” she inquired, trying to sound light and teasing.
“Oh, of course there is, Lizzy,” Mrs. Bennet interrupted from the other side of the table. “You are so distracted this evening that you almost dropped the glass. It would be very nice indeed to spill the wine over Mr. Darcy now that he seems to be more amiable.”
Elizabeth found nothing to say at such a statement and returned her attention to her plate. If her mother only knew how amiable Mr. Darcy truly was!
By the end of the evening, despite some other embarrassing moments, Darcy and Elizabeth had become masterfully skilled at fully enjoying each other’s closeness and stealing moments of sweet privacy in a room full of people.
The acknowledged lovers talked and laughed; the unacknowledged were silent—but they needed no words to express their feelings. They knew as much as they felt how happy they were, and everything that was left unsaid between them would be most eloquently expressed the next morning when they would again meet in the grove. As much as Darcy was eager to speak to Mr. Bennet and ask for his consent, he was even more eager to hear and feel the daughter’s consent again—many times over.
Chapter 13
Never had a night been so long for Elizabeth nor had she wished for the dawn with more eagerness. She barely slept, and yet she felt rested; she stared out the open window, looking at the stars and allowing the summer night breeze to caress her face. It was late August and autumn was near—almost a year since she had met him. How early should I go? Surely, I cannot presume him to be there at dawn. He cannot be as silly as I am to remain awake the entire night.
After an hour, Elizabeth’s patience evaded her. She observed the clock; it was four in the morning. She hurriedly dressed herself, put in two hairpins to keep her locks straight and then covered them with her bonnet. She walked carefully through the trees; she was alone—only herself and her thoughts.
Her heart nearly stopped when she heard steps moving closer and the sound of a horse; she remained still, not certain whether she should hide or simply return to the house as Longbourn was still in view. She had no time to do either, as the man appeared before her, and she gasped in surprise.
In two quick steps he was in front of her, his hands cupping her face as their eyes met.
“Elizabeth, what are you doing here at this hour?”
Her heart raced wildly, and she struggled to breathe normally again. She barely managed to speak.
“I could ask you the same question, sir…William…”
He did not answer; in utter silence, his fingers tentatively explored her face from her cheeks up to her eyes, her temples, her forehead, and then lowered again to trace the line of her jaw, brushing against her throat before returning toward her cheeks as his thumbs, as gently as a breeze, caressed her lips. His eyes followed his fingers and remained fixed on her mouth. Instinctively, her hands encircled his waist searching for support.
“It is not safe for you to be here at this hour, Elizabeth. It is almost the middle of the night.”
“I could not sleep; it is safe now that you are here.” She tried to smile. “But why are you here, sir? This is not where we were supposed to meet.”
His dark gaze and gentle thumbs were still caressing her mouth, now half-open as she spoke.
“I could not sleep either. I just wanted to look at your house and to wait for you…”
His head lowered toward hers, and she stopped breathing, waiting to feel the delicious touch of his kiss. His lips tenderly pressed over each of her eyes then he pulled her to his chest and held her tightly.
“Come.” He put one arm around her shoulders and, with the other, took the horse’s reins.
Within a quarter hour, they reached the grove where they had met previously. Darcy bound his horse to a tree and then pulled a packet from behind his saddle. She looked at him in wonder and then started to laugh when he undid the packet and a blanket appeared.
Skilfully, he laid the blanket under a tree; Elizabeth laughed even harder. “It appears, sir, that you are well prepared.”
He smiled, obviously satisfied with her reaction. “Shall we?” he invited her to sit.
He sat near her, his back against the tree. She blushed and was grateful it was still dark so he could not see her flushed cheeks. He was close, and they were both sitting on the blanket upon the grass, shockingly and improperly intimate. She expected any moment he would take her in his arms; but he only took her hands in his and pulled them to his lips.
“I cannot believe you are here with me, Elizabeth. I am still afraid something will happen…or that I will say or do something to make you leave again.”
“I shall never leave you again. There is nothing possible you could do or say to make me leave.”
“I have said so many inconsiderate things in the past, Elizabeth, that —
She would listen to him no longer or bear the painful need of feeling his kisses. Her hand daringly touched his face as her lips pressed against his mouth, silencing him. He was surprised and remained still for a moment, and she dared not move her lips at all, only pressed them against his. Then his left arm encircled her shoulder, while his right hand slid along her cheek and her ear, entering her silky hair. The hairpins fell out immediately, and her locks covered his fingers.
His mouth remained passive only for an instant, and then it trapped her lips, tentatively, gently at first, and then tenderly but daringly, as though possessed by a thirst only she could quench. She gasped and froze momentarily when she felt his tongue tasting and caressing her lips and then slipping inside, taking possession of her mouth. As if in a dream, she felt his fingers untying her bonnet and pushing it aside, finding their way into her hair while their bodies moved
together lower and lower until they were both reclined upon the blanket, never ceasing their passionate kisses. Elizabeth did not realise what was happening except that his body moved closer, and his scent made her dizzy; she could barely breathe, but it was all right; she did not want her lips to be free from his nor did she want him to withdraw from her. His mouth left hers for a moment and his lips traced countless small kisses over her face before returning to her mouth again. Then they lowered to the line of her jaw and caressed her throat softly; she moaned as her hands held him tighter. He covered her moans with another kiss, and she was grateful; she already missed his lips! His fingers brushed her arm then slipped around her waist and travelled upward along her ribs until his hand reached and rested upon the place where her heart was beating. She gasped loudly and stiffened.
In a moment Darcy stopped, and only then did they both realise he was almost covering her with his weight. His first reaction was a deep worry that he had gone dangerously too far, taking advantage of her confusion. He might have gone even further. He instantly realised his hand was cupping her breast and withdrew it instantly, leaning away from her to free her body. He tried to regain his normal breathing enough to be able to beg for her forgiveness and, while doing that, dared to meet her eyes. Her face was flushed, and she was breathing with difficulty. Her lips were swollen, red and moist from his kisses while her hair, in great disorder, was spread around her and a few locks were resting on the soft, creamy skin of her neck. Her eyes were darker than usual and sparkling with a passion he had never seen in them before.
“Elizabeth…please forgive me if I frightened you. I know what I did was highly improper and—
“You did not frighten me. I was a little frightened, but not by what you did, rather by what I did and what I felt. Never before—
Darcy smiled at her, and his fingers again caressed her face; he lowered his head and placed a soft kiss on her swollen lips. He rose to sit and pulled her with him, quite unceremoniously. She laughed as she almost fell. He embraced her tenderly, his back against the tree, holding her against his chest. His arm encircled her shoulders again, and his right hand took both her hands in his.
