His Uncle's Favorite (65 page)

Caroline and Louisa were still displeased—Bingley could easily see that—but they would have to accept his decision eventually. He was disconcerted that both of them seemed determined not to return to London after the wedding, and he was distressed to know they would be in the house during his wedding night. He cast a quick glance at Darcy, who seemed to have no worry since he would be leaving for Pemberley in less than two days. Darcy always had the luck.

Darcy watched Elizabeth with heartfelt delight; she was so easy in her manners, and her presence was so bright, her eyes sparkling as she found amusement in everything. She was happy; anyone could see that, and that very thought made him happy. From time to time, she turned to meet his gaze, and each time she blushed. He could sense that his staring made her nervous, and he found that disturbingly pleasant, so he allowed his eyes to caress her face, her neck, her bare shoulders and arms, then down to—

“So, Nephew, may I ask what you are contemplating so seriously?” The earl’s voice brought Darcy back from his reverie, and he needed a gulp of wine before he could reply. The earl followed the direction of his gaze and laughed.

“Well, well, it is not difficult to imagine what you are thinking of. She is a remarkable woman; I hope you know how to take care of her.”

“I hope that, too.” Darcy smiled. “But speaking of remarkable women, I am glad you decided to come. I trust everything is well?”

“Yes, everything is well. Now let us go and relieve Bingley of his brandy; he must pay in some way for the good fortune of marrying Jane Bennet. I say, he hardly deserves that beautiful girl!”

“Uncle, leave poor Bingley alone; you have tormented him enough,” Darcy said laughing.

“I say, Nephew, since he depended entirely on your opinion last November when he left Netherfield, Robert and I were wondering whether he asked your advice about the wedding night, too. By the way, Darcy, do you need any such advice?” the earl inquired in a low voice, and Darcy spit his brandy and coughed until his face turned red.

The earl patted his back gently as he whispered with mocking kindness, “Oh, come, son, do not be nervous; all will be well, you will see…”

As Darcy struggled to regain his composure under the inquiring, worried glances of the other guests, Lord Matlock never attempted to conceal his laughter.

Later after dinner, the gentlemen briefly retired to the library while the ladies amused themselves in the drawing room. Shortly, they were reunited, and the gentlemen asked the favour of some music. Elizabeth was not inclined to play and—strangely—Miss Mary did not offer herself, so Bingley asked Mrs. Hurst to indulge them, and she accepted with superior condescension.

While Mrs. Hurst exhibited her talent, Elizabeth felt Darcy behind her, his hand resting on her shoulder. She rose from her seat and stood by him against the wall. He took her arm, and for some time he seemed to pay attention to the pianoforte, but as the others became interested in the performance or in their own little conversations, he silently moved towards the door, pulling Elizabeth with him. Curious, she followed him; he exited the room along the main hall then entered another room and locked the door behind them. Elizabeth looked around, saw the pool table and blushed while her eyes gleamed with mirth.

“I recall an evening in this room last year; it was the first time I saw you without your coat,” she said, slightly nervous under his dark gaze. He said nothing but suddenly lifted her to sit on the table then put his arms around her.

“That night was the first time I wondered what you would say if I locked the door and kissed you senseless,” he whispered, and her heart raced wildly.

“You wished to kiss me senseless that night?” she wondered in disbelief. “I believed you were displeased that I disturbed your game—”

He kissed her words away, and his lips were neither patient nor gentle; his mouth was starving for hers, and his palm traced a circuit along her legs, thighs, ankles and back again. Her arms encircled his neck, and he moaned in pleasant surprise when he felt her teeth gently biting his lip.

“They will wonder where we are… We should return,” she said, her lips as daring and impatient as his.

“Yes…” He took her down from the table as quickly as he lifted her, but he did not break the kiss for a few moments. “We have a billiard room at Pemberley, too,” he finally said.

“I am sure you have, but I am happy you brought me here tonight…to kiss me breathless in this very room,” she said, her eyes sparkling, her lips moist and red, her face flushed.

“Your father would shoot me if he knew how many times I broke my promise. If I were your father, I would shoot myself for the way I behave,” he said as he unlocked the door.

“Do not worry; my mother would protect you.” She laughed.

“There is also something serious I would like to discuss with you, Elizabeth.”

“What is it? Though I believe this discussion
was
quite serious,” she teased him, and he smiled, kissing her hand.

“Would you rather go to London tomorrow and stay there a few days? It will be a very long journey from Longbourn to Pemberley.”

“I would rather go to Pemberley directly. I have had enough of London for a while. I do not mind its being a long journey if we are together. I want to go to Pemberley with you,” she said passionately, and he tenderly embraced her and placed a gentle kiss on her hair.

“Very well, my love, we will do as you wish. I will make all the arrangements.”

When Darcy and Elizabeth joined the others, it seemed nobody had noticed their absence. The ladies—aside from Miss Bingley and Mrs. Hurst who spoke only to each other—were chatting animatedly with frequent interruptions of excitement from Mrs. Bennet while Kitty and Mary intervened in the conversation with unusually shy politeness. Elizabeth moved towards Jane, and Darcy returned to the group of gentlemen. The colonel glanced at him with sharp irony.

“You know you are being quite ridiculous, are you not? We
all
know what you are doing. I never expected you to behave like a schoolboy, Darcy.”

“Oh, be quiet, Robert,” Lord Brightmore intervened. “He is not being ridiculous at all. The days of courtship are the most beautiful days of a man’s life—”

“Until the wedding, of course,” the earl said, laughing.

“Well, you have been equally ridiculous and still are.” The colonel dismissed him with a gesture. “I shall not argue with you about that.”

“Robert, you should not laugh at others; it might happen to you, too.” Darcy smiled.

The colonel took a gulp of his brandy. “Not bloody likely.”

Very late in the evening, the Bennets left Netherfield with the promise of meeting again the next day at Longbourn. That night was restless for the soon-to-be-married couples. Elizabeth and Jane talked to each other until dawn, sharing not only joy but also the sadness of separation.

Elizabeth insisted that Jane and her husband should have a very long visit to Pemberley. She believed—but did not dare tell Jane—that Mr. Bingley should have been more decided in asking everyone to leave Netherfield after the wedding; the newly wedded surely must have some time for themselves. She felt somehow that she would benefit from the complete solitude of Pemberley with only her husband, while Jane would have to bear the Bingley sisters and their mother at the same time. But Jane seemed utterly happy, so Elizabeth could only be happy for her, too.

Back at Netherfield, the resident gentlemen were still enjoying brandy long after midnight. With a full glass in his hand, Lord Matlock addressed Bingley.

“Well, well, son—somehow you succeeded in trapping that beautiful girl into marriage. You know you do not deserve her, do you not?”

Surprisingly, Bingley, well animated after several glasses, laughed. “I do know that, your lordship. I still cannot believe I will be married in two days.”

“You should take good care of her, and do not dare allow your sisters to upset her!”

“I shall not… I shall allow no one ever to upset Jane and—”

“By the way, Bingley, what is this nonsense that your sisters will stay a couple of weeks at Netherfield? Hurst just told me earlier.”

Bingley sighed in deep preoccupation. “They said they wished to stay…”

“They said they wished to stay? What do you mean? So no matter what anyone says, you just agree with it? Have you lost your mind, boy?” the earl thundered. “You are the master of the house! People should do what
you
say!”

“I know, sir, but I cannot throw my sisters out—”

“Not out, but off to London, if I may say so, but of course, that is your decision after all. Why on earth do you think Darcy is in such a hurry to leave for Pemberley with only his bride? I am sure that, when you wake up after your wedding night, you will be thrilled to meet Caroline and Louisa, asking you how everything went.”

Bingley stared at the earl, blinking repeatedly as though trying to comprehend his words. As revelation began to dawn on him, his face quickly effected several expressions, his gaze moving from the earl to Darcy. He emptied his glass in one gulp and poured another.

“London can be lovely in the summer,” he eventually said.

***

Happy for all her maternal feelings was the day on which Mrs. Bennet got rid of her two most deserving daughters.

Mrs. Bennet had not slept a single moment the previous night, so excited had her nerves been, on the one hand because of the dinner she hosted—which was declared to be marvellous, especially by Lady Selina, Miss Darcy, and Lord Matlock—and on the other hand because of the weddings the next day. All of Meryton was gathered to see Miss Bennet and Miss Elizabeth marry illustrious and exceedingly handsome gentlemen—as Mrs. Philips wisely pointed out many times.

Elizabeth was surprised at how little nervous she was during the ceremony; she felt nothing but overwhelming happiness. She looked around and saw her father watching her closely, a trace of sadness on his face. She also noticed her mother whispering to Mrs. Philips, Kitty and Mary whispering to Georgiana, Mrs. Gardiner sitting between Lady Selina and Lord Matlock, and Colonel Fitzwilliam and Lord Brightmore smiling mischievously. Jane was bright and charming at her side, and at her other side stood Mr. Darcy—the last man in the world she ever imagined she would marry. Mr. Darcy—her husband, her happiness.

After the wedding breakfast, Elizabeth took her husband’s arm with a light heart and complete confidence; he covered her hand with his, and their gazed at each other as their smiles grew together. They walked to the carriage, followed by their families but oblivious to the rest of the world.

Elizabeth rewarded everyone with a bright smile, her eyes as sparkling as stars; Darcy sat near her and put his arm around her as she rested her hand on his thigh. The footman closed the carriage door and took his seat, and the carriage moved slowly, retreating step-by-step from the joyous crowd until nothing could be heard but the horses’ steady pacing and the coachman’s low voice commanding them.

Darcy turned to his wife and kissed her hand tenderly.

“We are finally going home, Mrs. Darcy.”

She sighed and laid her head on his shoulder as her fingers entwined with his. The carriage moved through the landscape of her childhood, leaving it and the familiar grounds behind; she felt him kiss the top of her head, so she removed her bonnet and threw it on the opposite seat. She lifted her eyes to him.

“Do you remember when we returned from the sleigh ride and you were home? You took my bonnet off and unbuttoned my coat.”

He smiled mischievously as he kissed her hair again. “Of course, I remember; you were so cold and frozen that I could think of nothing but how better to warm you.”

“Oh, you are only teasing me. I am sure you did not think of such a thing that day.”

“Believe me, I did.” He laughed, and her eyebrows rose in disbelief.

“If I were to believe what you are saying, it seems you had nothing but improper thoughts about me,” she said reproachfully, and he laughed louder.

“I might have had a few proper thoughts.” He then turned serious and lowered his head to her, his fingers brushing over her face.

“I think I began to desire you and dream about you even before I realised I was in love with you. During your stay at Netherfield, there was not a single hour that I did not imagine how it would feel to embrace you, to kiss you, to touch you…

“I cannot imagine those kinds of thoughts crossed your mind when I was certain you were looking at me only to find a blemish. I never read passion or desire in your eyes.”

She paused a moment then admitted with a smile, “It is also true that, at that time, I did not really know what passion and desire look like.”

“And you do now?”

“I most certainly do…” she responded, daringly lifting her face to meet his lips. He stole a brief kiss then caressed her face tenderly.

“You must help me to behave properly on this long journey, and that will be a very difficult task.”

Before she had time to reply, he captured her lips eagerly while his left hand cupped her face and neck. His tongue tantalised her lips then moved down to her throat; he cast a short glance through the small window to ascertain that the coachman had his back to them, then he gently bit her ear and spoke hoarsely. “I cannot possibly bear to wait until Pemberley…without touching you…but I promise I will be careful not to disturb your appearance…too much…”