The Last Waltz: . . . another pride and prejudice journey of love (30 page)

“I believe I saw her headed for the library, Mrs. Bennet. If I were you, I would look for her there,” he replied. He watched as his wife scurried from the ballroom, then turned to stand guard at the balcony’s entrance.

Behind the closed doors, only the moon and stars were privy to Darcy and Elizabeth’s intimate embrace. He would not wait another moment to tell her. “I love you, sweet Lizzy,” he whispered just before his lips eagerly captured hers.

CHAPTER
FORTY-TWO

Alyssa Marston looked up at her visitor in horror and disbelief.

“My, such a disagreeable look.”

“What are you
doing
here?”

“Is that any way to greet an old friend? One might think you were not pleased to see me, Alyssa.”

“And why would I be? After your malicious deeds in London, I would have been quite content to live the rest of my life never having set eyes on you again, Mr. Wickham.”

“Come now, Alyssa; surely you have forgiven me by now,” he simpered as he pulled her against him. “There was a time when you were quite eager for my attentions,” he said, his voice sounding far more ominous than seductive. “Perhaps I need to reacquaint you with some of our more pleasurable past endeavours.”

Alyssa pushed against his chest until she was free of his arms. “If that is your purpose for seeking my company, I am afraid you have wasted your time, sir, as I am promised to another.”

“That was hardly a deterrent before, as I recall. In fact, I believe you found the danger of it all rather stimulating.”

“Well it is most definitely a deterrent
now
. Besides,” she continued with some satisfaction as she studied him, “I find you no longer quite as appealing as you once were, Mr. Wickham.”

Wickham fought the urge to touch the disfiguring scar that distorted his face. He was used to it by now, and he was actually growing quite fond of it. It gave him a menacing look that was more in accordance with his sinister heart.

“I am betrothed,” she announced as she held out her hand, displaying the diamond and ruby engagement ring that adorned her finger, “and I shall be married in less than a fortnight.”

“Congratulations, Miss Marston,” he said, choosing to ignore her insulting remark. “And who is the lucky man, might I inquire?”

“That is none of your concern, sir.”

“On the contrary, Miss Marston; I am most anxious to make his acquaintance. I believe he and I could find a great many subjects on which to converse. There is one in particular that I am sure he would find most interesting.”

“Even
you
could not be that merciless,” she said with contempt.

“Oh, could I not? Obviously you do not know me as well as you think, Alyssa.”

A feeling of panic forced her into reluctant contrition. “Mr. Wickham, I am begging you to just go away and leave me alone. Have you not caused me enough humiliation?”

“I would be only too happy to oblige you, Alyssa, and to discreetly disappear, but, unfortunately, it seems I find myself rather short on cash at the moment. Perhaps some compensation might induce me to hasten my departure.”

“Are you blackmailing me, sir?” she asked in astonishment.

“Let us merely say that in order to accommodate your request, I require a small fee.”

Alyssa narrowed her eyes. “How small?”

“Two thousand pounds ought to set me up nicely in Scotland.”

“And where do you suppose I should get such a large sum of money?”

“That is, indeed,
your
problem, dear Alyssa. Perhaps you can pawn your engagement ring,” he suggested with a smile that the devil himself might have worn.

“I wish I had turned you away that first day you called upon me. You are the most despicable man I have ever had the misfortune of encountering. Are you not satisfied that you ruined my chances of marrying Mr. Darcy? Must you ruin this chance for me as well?”

“But the solution is so simple, Alyssa. Pay me the two thousand pounds, and I promise you I will be out of your life forever. I will give you two days to raise the money. I will call on you here at six o’clock. Have the money ready then.”

“No, you must not come here again. I will meet you. There is a small park just beyond the blacksmith near the edge of town. I will meet you there.”

********

The constant rumble of thunder assured him that his attempts to get back to sleep would be useless. Darcy rose from his bed at Netherfield and looked out the window at the rain. But even the lingering pain in his shoulder and the gloomy inclement weather could not dampen his spirits. The sweet memory of Elizabeth so tempting and desirable in his arms filled his thoughts.

Last night she had completely surprised and beguiled him. Not only had she risked his rejection and the censure of those in attendance as she broke with social protocol, but she had completely put her faith in his hands as she bravely fought off her fears to dance her very first waltz with him. He knew the great honour she had bestowed upon him.

When she had finally relaxed in his arms, they both had been prodigiously aware of the intimacy that the waltz had provided. Each touch of their hands, every inflection of their bodies had produced a most pleasurable response. By the time the waltz had ended, Darcy had been most impatient to be alone with her.

He smiled to himself as he recalled their stolen moments together on the balcony . . .

***

The moon was reflected in her eyes as he pulled her into his embrace. “I love you, sweet Lizzy,” he murmured. And then his lips were upon hers. When finally they broke from their kiss, his arms still held her tightly. “I have a confession to make, Elizabeth. I read Jane’s letter. The one you received that day at the Lambton Inn. The one that revealed you once loved me.”

Elizabeth could feel the blush of embarrassment overtake her countenance.

“Tell me I am not too late, Elizabeth. Say that you still love me.”

“And what if I do, Mr. Darcy?”

“Then I would beg you to marry me. I meant what I said, Elizabeth; I love you. I loved you the night I first proposed at Rosings, but I was too blind to see it… or perhaps too afraid to admit it.”

Elizabeth took a step back, and Darcy reluctantly released his arms from around her. “But you do not
believe
in love.”

“I believe in
you
, Elizabeth—in
us
.”

Elizabeth remained silent as she remembered Caroline Bingley’s callous remarks. The knowledge that he could have any perfect young lady of his choosing still plagued her mind. Was she just a novelty to him that would soon wear off?

“Do you not wish to marry me?” he anxiously asked.

“There is nothing that I want more, Mr. Darcy,” she confessed. “But . . . I fear that . . .”

As he heard the hesitation in her voice, panic filled his heart. Would her insecurities cause her to refuse him again?

He suddenly pulled her back into his arms as his mouth covered hers possessively. “Don’t say it, Elizabeth,” he breathed against her lips as he plied her with kisses. “Don’t even think it. I love you, sweet Lizzy. In my eyes you are perfect,” he murmured. “Just say the word, and I will proudly march you down the center aisle of St. James, without the benefit of your special slippers, for all the world to see.”

The fierce determination in his voice helped ease her fears as they stood motionless with their eyes fixed upon one another. A smile slowly materialized upon Elizabeth’s face. “Would you really, Mr. Darcy?” she asked with a slight twitch of her lips.

He gave a slight nod of his head as he steadfastly stared into her amber-flecked brown eyes.

“Then, yes. Yes, Mr. Darcy, I will marry you.”

Darcy released a sigh of relief, but he needed one more concession from her. “But now the question still remains, Elizabeth: Do you love me?”

“I can hardly remember a time when I did not. Yes, Mr. Darcy, I love you now and always, with all my heart.”

***

It had taken all of his restraint to break from the intimate kisses and caresses that followed her declaration. But he could not take the chance of them being caught alone together on the balcony, and reluctantly he had let her go.

They would meet again in just a few hours. Elizabeth had asked him to remain silent regarding their betrothal as to not take attention away from Jane’s special day. It was just like her to show such selfless consideration.

Despite the fact that it was still early dawn, Darcy readied himself for the wedding. When he descended the stairs to the breakfast room, he was surprised to see Bingley already seated there.

“Rather eager, are you not, Bingley? I get the impression you are looking forward to your wedding,” teased Darcy with an unconcealed smirk.

“I have been up for hours, Darcy, thinking of nothing else,” said Bingley as he raked his fingers through his hair. “After eight months of waiting, I can hardly believe the day is finally here. Granted, it is not the day that has me so impatient,” he admitted, “but rather, the night.”

“All good things in their time, Bingley,” Darcy replied with amusement.

“Yes, yes, so I have been telling myself. It is so much easier for women; they do not seem bothered by long engagements. But take my advice, Darcy: a betrothal of short duration is exceedingly more to be preferred, at least from the male point of view.”

“I will most definitely keep that in mind.”

“You’re up rather early yourself. What keeps you from sleep?” asked Bingley.

“It was merely the thunder . . .”

Suddenly the appearance of Colonel Fitzwilliam took them both by surprise as he entered the breakfast room, dripping wet.

“Good god! Were you out riding in that storm?” asked Bingley.

“I managed to stay ahead of it until Worcestershire,” he answered as he swept his waterlogged hat from his head, “where it finally caught up with me. I have been drenched in it since, but I was determined not to miss your wedding, Bingley.”

An appreciative smile appeared on Bingley’s face. “Come; let me show you to your room, Colonel. When you are ready, please help yourself to some breakfast.”

When the colonel returned clean and dry to the breakfast room, Darcy was now alone and looked up at him anxiously.

“There is still no sign of him?” he asked with some agitation, but determined to keep his good mood intact.

“No. If Wickham
is
still in England, he is doing a very good job of keeping himself hidden. I have men searching for him everywhere. I am just grateful that he is nowhere near Miss Bennet . . . or Georgiana.”

“Speaking of Georgiana, I am somewhat concerned about her.”

Startled, Richard’s eyes immediately widened. “Why, what has happened?”

“Nothing, as far as I know, but I think she might believe herself to be in love.”

“She has told you this? With whom?”

“She has not actually confessed to it, but from her conversation last evening, I suspect it is so. As to the man with whom she has fancied herself in love, I was hoping that a talk with you might encourage her to reveal his identity. She seems embarrassed to discuss such matters with me, and the two of you have always had a special bond. Perhaps she will speak more freely on this subject with you.”

“I don’t know, Darcy. I may not be the wisest choice in this matter.”

“I do not see why not. As her guardian, you have always given her sound advice. And undoubtedly you know the female mind much better than I.”

Richard exhaled a disparaging deep breath. He was sure Darcy would have a list of reasons why he would never approve of him as a suitable match for Georgiana, a list that Richard himself had mentally compiled—He was too set in his ways; he was too old for her; he was used to doing as he damn well pleased; he was not refined or cultured as was sweet Georgiana. Oh, he was sure the list was endless. But Richard knew that it was Darcy’s knowledge of his many past affairs that would ultimately brand him an unsuitable candidate for Georgiana’s hand.

It would be highly improbable for
any
man to have attained the age of thirty without seeking some female companionship. Certainly, even Darcy had managed a few encounters of his own. But now he wished he had not been so forthcoming with Darcy regarding his youthful adventures. From the day that he had first put on his Lieutenant’s regimentals, he had discovered that his uniform was as effective in attracting members of the opposite sex as were the feathers on a male peacock.

He would be the first to admit that his past assignations had been numerous and merely to appease his libido. The fact that he had only sought the company of those women whose repute had been well established as compliant had eased his conscience at the time.

But his roguish ways had recently come to an abrupt halt. He now no longer desired the empty, purely physical connections of his past associations. He found himself wanting something more. He remembered the exact moment that such an unpredictable thought had entered his mind; it was the day he had last visited Georgiana at Pemberley.

As she had gracefully glided down the staircase towards him, dressed in her lovely gown, she had looked so appealing that it literally had taken his breath away. His immediate thought had been: when had she become such a desirable young woman?

From the time she was a small child, he had always felt a special connection between them. Her slight frame and her delicateness had instinctively appealed to his protective nature. But in that all too revealing moment as he watched her descend the stairs, he had no choice but to confess to himself that his feelings for her had blossomed far beyond familial affection and concern. And it was then that he vowed to become a better man, one worthy of her affections.