Mr. Darcy's Promise (35 page)

He leaned into her and slurred his words slightly. “I do not usually drink but I needed a little liquid courage tonight.”

Elizabeth wondered what he meant by that. “I do not see why being at Netherfield requires courage.”

Darcy looked at her. His words, when he spoke, were biting and sarcastic. “Do you not? I thought it was you who wanted me to talk to Bingley about our . . . how did you put it? Sleeping arrangements . . .” His mouth was dry, and he found that he needed another drink. “Bingley! I left my glass in the library. Fill it up and bring it to me!”

Why was her husband being so rude? He would never order Bingley around like that! Elizabeth saw Bingley’s expression shadow with concern as he glanced first at Elizabeth and then back to Mr. Darcy. Bingley dropped Jane’s hands and left to go get the requested drink. Elizabeth turned her attention back to Mr. Darcy, “So have you talked to him then? Is it all settled?”

Darcy let out a grunt of a laugh. “I will speak with him. You do not need to fret. I said I would do it and I will. Do you doubt my trustworthiness?” He caught his speech ending with somewhat of a snarl. He hadn’t meant to snap at her. His frustrations with himself and his tardiness in broaching the topic yet with Bingley just increased his poor mood. “I am sorry; there is a reason I do not drink,” he admitted. “I tend to get is a sour mood when I do,” he slurred. He saw Bingley approach with his drink and his thirst worsened. He licked his lips and reached out for it. “Thank you,” he said to Bingley. He took a large swallow, downing a third of the glass at once.

*****

Elizabeth reluctantly said goodnight to Jane, and afterwards, encountered a maid who was sent to help her undress and prepare for the night. Elizabeth dismissed her; simply being back in Meryton made her feel less dependent on servants. After all, at Longbourn she had to share one maid with five sisters. Although she missed Serafina’s company, she was almost grateful that she would have some private time to reflect on everything. She brushed out her hair methodically, contemplating William’s behavior that night. He had not stopped drinking over the next two hours and his words had become more and more slurred. When he rose to bid farewell to Jane, he had stumbled on his own feet and nearly fallen to the ground. Bingley had expressed a desire to retire early, immediately after Elizabeth did, but Darcy insisted that they play another game of billiards. She remembered the look on Bingley’s face. It was the same one, she knew, that she had on her own right now. Bingley had to be equally disconcerted by the sight of Darcy intoxicated. And she, of course, knew the real reason Darcy had wanted to have a private moment with Bingley, but Bingley did not. It was then that Elizabeth encouraged them to bet on the game; it was probably the first time in a long time that Bingley could beat Darcy, considering the state her husband was in, but it would also provide them with a place to speak privately and safely. Bingley seemed to get the hint that Elizabeth wanted the two to play even though it was getting late and had conceded. She had tried to make eye contact with William before retiring, but he seemed to be dizzy, as he was holding firmly to the table in the vestibule and was found rubbing his eyes.

She looked at the trunks that lay in the corner of the room. His had not yet been moved, and still remained in the room along with hers. She wrapped her robe around her and tried to tie the top.
I really should have brought a new robe. The broken ribbon on this one is making it very difficult to tie.
She knew as soon as she tried to lay down, a servant would come in to take his trunks to his new room so she took her time getting ready for bed. She rubbed her lavender oils on her neck, she plaited and then re-plaited her hair, took the book she had brought with her, and began to read. She kept waiting for that knock on the door. She even twice thought she heard one, but opened the door to an empty hallway.
What could be taking so long?
She read further but her mind refused to focus on the page. She turned down one side of the bed and propped the pillows up and sat down. It wasn’t that she wasn’t tired; her eyes were quite heavy, but she didn’t want to miss the knock and leave William without his trunks.

She felt chilled, and pulled up the covers to her waist before trying to read again. Plenty of time had elapsed. She estimated that it had been almost two hours, which meant he had probably gone to bed without his trunks. She sighed. She hadn’t meant to inconvenience him with her request, but she concluded that he had found another place to sleep. She untied her robe and was about to blow out the candle when she finally heard the sounds of voices outside her door. She quickly tried to retie her robe but when she heard a crash and thud just outside her door, she hurried to open it.

Bingley had been struggling with the weight of Darcy’s body on the stairs, and had been grateful to reach the doorway. He realized with a sinking heart that getting him off the floor of the hallway was going to be difficult. He heard their bedroom door open and saw Elizabeth’s silhouette looking down at them. He grunted as he pulled Darcy to a sitting position. “Come on, Darcy, we made it this far. Up on your feet.” He put Darcy’s arm around his shoulders and saw that Elizabeth had come up on the other side to help. The two of them lifted, but when that didn’t work, he took his hand behind Darcy’s back and grabbed a handful of his breeches. “Elizabeth, on the count of three— just lift with your knees, I do not want you hurting yourself! One, two, three!” They got him to his feet and started progressing towards the open door. Darcy seemed to have woken up slightly and was moving his feet, but his balance was off. He was leaning too far forward to support himself. They had to hurry to keep up with the forward momentum lest they lose him again. Bingley adjusted his grip on Darcy’s pants and Darcy seemed to stand up straighter. “Elizabeth, I think I have him. Pull back the covers and I will put him on the bed.”

Elizabeth didn’t know what to do. Bingley was going to place her nearly unconscious husband on her bed! Darcy had not told him they needed two rooms? She could see they had no other choice at the moment. She would have to figure something out later because Darcy was swaying quite a bit from side to side. She cautiously let go and did as Bingley had told her.

“There now Darcy, turn around and sit down.” Bingley nudged Darcy’s feet around using his own, and then pulled and guided his buttocks around by the pants he still held tightly. He didn’t have to tell him to sit down a second time. Darcy’s knees gave out and he buckled backwards. Elizabeth let out a noise of dismay. Bingley pulled on the pants. “Take his legs and lift them up.” He was using all his strength to keep him from sliding to the floor. He inhaled and pulled his shoulders up higher. Once they got his buttocks on the bed, the rest would be easy. With one final pull, he yanked hard and was relieved to feel that the weight of Darcy’s body was finally on the bed.

Elizabeth numbly reached the sheets and blankets, removing them before lifting her husband’s legs. They adjusted him, placing his head where it should be and propping a pillow beneath it. She turned to Bingley. Now was the time to ask for a second room. She opened her mouth to say something, but then hesitated. Her embarrassment far outweighed her courage. She scanned the room to see if there were any other options, but this room didn’t have a chaise to sleep on.

Bingley rubbed his hands through his hair and tried to catch his breath. “I have to admit I have never seen him drink as much as he did tonight. It was very peculiar. He kept opening his mouth to talk and then would say something that was— if you’ll excuse me— it felt completely random. Like ‘did you know lavender grows wild in the hills of Hertfordshire?’ He kept doing it all night. I imagined something was bothering him and he was just trying to find the right moment to tell me about it, but then he passed out in the chair. I am sorry, Elizabeth. I would send a servant up but it is late. Just let him sleep in his clothes. It is the natural penalty for drinking like that when he is not used to it.”

Elizabeth nodded. “Thank you. I can manage. He hardly drinks, but you know that.” She didn’t quite know how she was going to manage, but she would figure out something.

“Well, good night. I am sorry I let him fill his glass those last few times. It is not going to be a pretty morning for him after this much brandy. Do take care.” Bingley turned to leave and then turned back around. “Elizabeth? He kept mumbling something about chickens and getting their feathers. He brought it up three times, asking me what I thought about them, but I have to admit I could not help him. Does that make any sense to you?”

Elizabeth looked at her sleeping husband. He had been thinking about the chickens! “Yes, but I am afraid it is more complicated than I can explain in one night. Thank you for delivering him safely.”

Bingley let out a laugh, “Safely? He landed on the floor in a pile of broken glass from a vase he knocked over! I am lucky we made it, let alone safely!” He then turned and left.

Elizabeth went and closed the door. She looked at the face of her husband and sighed. He looked more like a boy, all those familiar creases smoothed out of his brow. She had never seen him while he was sleeping. She stood transfixed looking at him. She still did not know what she was going to do, but decided to start tugging at his boots. A good wife would ensure that her husband didn’t sleep in his boots. She took her time taking them off, trying to come up with an answer to where she would sleep. There were two blankets, but with the chill in the air, one person would probably need two blankets anyway. She could not imagine that sleeping on the cold hard floor was really an option. She pried the first boot off. His leg flopped on the bed, and she heard him moan something that sounded like her name. She removed the other boot, careful this time not to drop the leg. She looked back at his face. His lips were relaxed, and she reached her hand out to touch his face. She took her palm, cupping his strong jaw.

When he moaned and turned his head into her hand, she spoke. “Everything will be well, William, I am here. Just go to sleep.” He mumbled something incoherent again. She didn’t know what she was doing, but she pulled up the sheets and blankets and tucked them around him. It felt right to care for him while he was in this state. She leaned down and pressed a kiss against his lips. “Good night, William.”

He responded with a moan and his words were barely understandable, slurred and mixed, but she heard him say
Elizabeth, do not go.

His eyes were closed, but his hands reached up for her. She leaned in and let his hands find her waist. He was still very much asleep, but his lips were pursed looking for hers. She giggled at the sight, and then leaned down and kissed him again. She paused just above him.
One more kiss will not hurt
,
she thought, and then kissed him a third time. She felt his hands draw her towards him in for one more kiss, his lips now moving frantically with hers. If she didn’t know better she would have thought he had woken up. His hands fumbled as he tried to pull her even closer and caressed her back in a clumsy and yet endearing way.
He definitely is still asleep.
She let him kiss her for a moment, and soon he dropped his hands and his lips began to slow. He stopped kissing her and she pulled away. His face wore a gentle smile on it now. She reached for his face one more time. She wanted for the first time that night to stay with him, at least while he was in this sedated state. She wanted to hold him and care for him in any way she could. She sat down on the bed beside him and just watched his chest rise and fall, a habit she had taken up once she had realized how masculine his build was.

He let out a big moan and swung his arm up by his head,
flopping it on the pillow. She felt moved with his peaceful state, and for some reason, felt peaceful as well. Her situation should cause her anxiety, but all she felt was a deep love for her husband. She was moved that he would talk about the chickens to Bingley. Some part of her gave as she realized that even in his sedated state he would ask her to stay with him. Even unaware of what he was doing, he wanted to kiss her. She loved him, and she was amazed at the depth of emotions she was feeling. She stood up and walked to the other side of the bed. Without fully examining her behavior, she pulled the covers down and slid in next to him. She wanted nothing more than to spend the night in his arms.

She carefully slid in under the arm that was still on the pillow and placed her head on his chest. He moaned and turned slightly towards her, bringing his arm down around her. She froze for a moment. What he would think of her
laying next to him? After a short while, the rhythm of his breathing became regular again. The rise and fall of his chest and the warmth of his body so close to hers made her sleepy. She concluded that since she didn’t quite know how he would react to her sliding under his arm, and in bed, no less, that she would rise early and slip out of the position before he noticed. She listened for a while to his steady heartbeat. She would have been shocked at her behavior earlier that day, but at the moment, as her head rose and fell with his breathing, and feeling the comfort she felt in holding him, she didn’t want to be anywhere else. She wanted to be in his arms. She wanted to wake up in this position, even if it was before him.  With one last moment awake, she whispered, “I love you, William.” She then closed her eyes, letting the steady rhythm of his heart put her to sleep.

*****

Mr. Darcy was dreaming he was galloping through a field of lavender. Each thud of the hooves seemed to jar his body and vibrate all the way to his head. Pounding, thudding, jarring. He didn’t understand why Calypso was so clumsy this ride. He could hear and feel the wind on his neck coming and going at regular intervals which didn’t make sense either. He tried to readjust himself in the saddle, but he could not shake the sensation of feeling heavy and hot. Pounding, thudding, jarring. He focused on the lavender. It was calming and seemed to remind him of something, no, not something . . . someone!
Elizabeth!