The Secrets of Darcy and Elizabeth: A Pride and Prejudice Variation (32 page)

“I beg to differ with your sister,” Bingley said, an anxious expression on his face. “She took a bad fall and has certainly turned her ankle and perhaps wrenched her knee as well. She can barely put weight on her foot.”

As she struggled to a standing position, Jane was shaking her head. “Charles, it is not—” But even as she said this, she stood on the foot and involuntarily winced with pain.

“That is quite enough!” Bingley said, with a determination that Elizabeth had never seen before. “I am sending for the doctor!” Without so much as a glance at Jane for her permission, he swept her up into his arms and carried her into the house.

So it was that Elizabeth did not need a thunderstorm to keep her at Netherfield. Bingley would not hear of Jane’s removal to Longbourn, despite the doctor’s assurance that her injuries were not severe. The doctor bound up her ankle and knee and told her to stay off her feet for a week. Jane protested that she could rest her leg just as easily at her home, but Bingley could not bear to have her leave that night. Elizabeth mused that his insistence might stem, in part, from a desire to spend more time with Jane – but she was far from objecting.

Naturally, he asked Elizabeth to stay and keep her sister company. Although Elizabeth was certain she could do little for Jane under these circumstances, she readily consented to remain. The deeply content on Darcy’s face was the all the persuasion she required. A messenger was dispatched to Longbourn with the news and returned with extra clothing for the two women.

Darcy dismissed his valet for the night and finished donning his robe; his thoughts – as always – turned to Elizabeth. Reclining on his room’s large four-poster bed, he pondered his next step. Although he had longed for them to be under the same roof, he was not sure how they could act on their unexpected good fortune. Her bedroom was several doors down and visiting her would create the risk of his being seen traversing the hallway. He had noticed that the floors of Netherfield were noisy, creaking with every step. Even if he waited until everyone was abed, a light sleeper might hear his footsteps, but it was too great an opportunity to ignore. It had been too long since their interlude in the copse of trees and he longed to hold her in his arms again. Just knowing how near she was made him want to throw caution to the wind and race to her door.

Sternly he reminded himself that he would do her no favors by compromising her reputation, especially in the eyes of Caroline Bingley. They were no closer to revealing their marital status to her father – and therefore they must be above suspicion. Mr. Bennet must be unhappy enough that the two of them were spending the night under one roof. He punched his pillow in frustration. He must see her somehow! Walking to the window, he pressed his hands on the cool glass – wondering for the thousandth time how he had ended up in such a bizarre and frustrating situation.

Then he heard a slight noise behind him and turned to behold Elizabeth in the corner of the room near the bed! “My love!” He gasped. Crossing the room in two strides, he enfolded her in his embrace. “But, how did you come to be here?”

Clad only in her nightgown and dressing gown, she smiled impudently. “You forget that I know Netherfield quite well. The Staunton sisters were friends of our when their family owned this house and I spent many happy hours playing in its corridors. There is a secret passage between this room and the rose room, where I am staying.” She indicated a small doorway, designed to resemble a section of the wall, which was almost invisible when closed.

He buried his hands in her loose curls and kissed her soundly. “You, my dear, are a marvel!” he murmured against her lips. “But, how was it that you happened to be assigned the rose room?”

She batted her lashes in mock innocence. “I told Bingley’s housekeeper this afternoon that I had fond memories of the rose room from my childhood. Since no one was using the room, she was more than happy to accommodate my wishes.”

He ran his arms up and down her body, wanting to touch every inch of her. “I cannot tell you how happy I am.”

She regarded him through her eyelashes. “So, would you care to visit the rose room and see if it meets with your approval?”

His smile was fond and indulgent. “I would, but I am already quite certain I will approve of it.” She turned toward the door, but he clung to her hand, unwilling to break contact with her for one moment. Tugging softly on his hand, she led him through the concealed door.

Much later, Darcy was lying in the rose room’s bed gazing at Elizabeth, fast asleep in the crook of his arm, thinking how pleasant it was just to watch his wife sleep. She was so angelically beautiful, her dark lashes vivid against her pale skin. He, however, fought sleep, knowing that, above all, he could not be in Elizabeth’s room come the morning. As much as he longed to lie beside her all night, he knew he needed to return to his own room soon. Already a sense of yearning gripped him at the thought of leaving her.

He had taken the precaution of locking the door so that if he inadvertently fell asleep, they would not be surprised by one of Bingley’s maids in the morning. But Darcy’s valet might visit his room and wonder where he was. In addition, he had noticed that the lock on Elizabeth’s door was old and had not latched well. He could not be certain that it would keep the maid out – or even that she would realize the door was supposed to be locked.

Steeling himself against the pain of separation, he sat up in the bed. Elizabeth sighed and reached for him. “Shhh, my love,” he whispered. “I need to return to my room, but I will see you in the morning.”

She settled back on the bed and he pulled the blanket up around her shoulder. As he shrugged on his robe, he enjoyed one last lingering glance at her.

Suddenly he heard at footfall outside the door and a quick knock. “Elizabeth? Elizabeth?”
Bingley!
Darcy thought in a panic and rushed to the concealed door. Bingley was now fumbling with the room’s door knob. “Elizabeth? Forgive the intrusion, but Jane’s ankle is paining her and she was hoping you – “

The door sprang open even as Bingley was talking. Bingley stood framed in the doorway, staring right at Darcy, who was mere inches from the secret door. “Darcy!” Bingley exclaimed, completely bewildered. “I thought this was Elizabeth’s – “

He glanced toward the bed, where Elizabeth was just beginning to sit up, rubbing sleep from her eyes. Then Bingley turned back to Darcy, his look of astonishment rapidly evolving into anger.

Chapter 12

Elizabeth looked from a perplexed Bingley to Darcy, who was completely paralyzed with mortification. Bingley’s face was growing more furious by the second. Turning bright red, Elizabeth hid her face in her hands.

They stood frozen in a tableau for what seemed an eternity to Darcy. Bingley was the first to recover. “Darcy, might I see you in my study? Miss Elizabeth, Jane was hoping you might know of something that might alleviate the pain in her ankle. Can you go to her?”

Her face still buried in her hands, Elizabeth whispered a muffled, “yes.” Darcy followed Bingley out of the room, trying not to feel like a schoolboy who was about to be paddled.

Bingley stalked down the hallway in complete silence. As they entered the study, Darcy tried a preemptive explanation. “Bingley, you do not – “

But Bingley’s low, level voice forestalled him. “How could you? She is under my roof! Under my protection!” Darcy thought he had never seen his ordinarily placid friend so furious. Bingley threw himself into the desk chair and glared at his friend. “What am I going to tell her father? What am I going to tell Jane? Good Lord!” He slapped the arm of the chair in frustration. “Damn, Darcy, I never thought you would do something like this!”

Bingley finally fell silent, frowning fiercely as Darcy sank into the facing chair.

“I am sorry this has caused you consternation—” Darcy began. Bingley made an angry gesture as if to respond, but Darcy forestalled him. “Damnation! Will you listen to me? We are married. Elizabeth and I are married.”

Bingley sat up so quickly that his arm inadvertently knocked some papers off his desk, but he spared them no notice. “Married?” He said incredulously.

Darcy nodded. “In France.”

“France?” Bingley echoed in a stunned tone. “You mean all this time you have been – ? Darcy merely nodded again, giving his friend time to assimilate the news. The other man was shaking his head in amazement. Darcy explained the circumstances of their marriage and why they had concealed it.

“I had been hoping I could produce Lydia and Wickham – preferably married – before explaining to Mr. Bennet that
we
married without his knowledge or consent,” Darcy finished up. “But we may not be able to wait much longer.”

“You are in +a deucedly awkward position.” Bingley shook his head slowly in sympathy. Then he laughed unexpectedly. “No wonder you were so certain she had not accepted an offer of marriage from Fenton!”

Darcy chuckled. “Yes, that was one thing I could be sure of in this whole situation.”

Bingley poured brandy for them both. “You are married,” Bingley shook his head in disbelief. “Before you left for Paris I did not even know you held any special regard for Elizabeth. Now I find you have beaten me to the altar.”

Darcy nodded knowingly. “Yes, I can hardly believe it myself.”

After the men left her room, Elizabeth took several breaths to recover her composure and remind herself that she and Darcy had done nothing wrong. She might feel like a misbehaving schoolgirl, but she was a married woman who was entitled to spend the night with her husband.

Feeling a little better, she climbed out of bed and donned her robe. She walked down the hall to Jane’s room, knocked lightly on the door, and then pushed it open. Jane was sitting up in bed, her head and shoulders propped on some pillows and her swollen ankle resting on another one. Although Jane’s face showed some strain and exhaustion, she did not seem to be in overwhelming pain. She put aside the book she was reading and regarded Elizabeth with chagrin.

“I am sorry, Lizzy,” her beautiful face was anxious. “I did not wish to disturb your sleep, but Charles was beside himself. He had left a maid to watch over me. Then he could not sleep, so he came to discover how I fared and she told him I was in pain. He wanted so much to be of use to me! So I told him that sometimes you made a poultice that eased Papa’s rheumatism. He insisted on rousing you to make it for me. But if you would rather sleep, you may do it in the morning.”

Elizabeth had to smile at this rather long, self-effacing speech. “Truly, I want to be of any comfort I can. I will make the poultice if that will help.”

“It does not hurt so very much, but I am having trouble sleeping. Perhaps if you could read to me a little, that would help.”

Elizabeth pulled a chair to her sister’s bedside and took her hand. “I will do whatever you desire. But first I believe I must tell you something.” As she had walked down the hall, Elizabeth had wondered about Darcy’s conversation with Bingley and realized that in all likelihood, Darcy would reveal the truth about their marriage. Elizabeth felt it only fair to divulge the same to Jane. Indeed, she had found it quite painful to conceal the truth from her closest sister. Although she felt an obligation to tell her father, she felt the most desire to confide in Jane and receive sisterly advice.

“What is that?” Jane’s eyes were wide and curious.

“I think I can help you forget about the pain in your ankle – at least for a little while,” Elizabeth smiled at her sister. “I wanted to tell you – That is – I – We—” Elizabeth stopped and took a breath. This was more difficult than she had anticipated, perhaps because she was anxious about Jane’s reaction. Then she realized that Jane’s face was furrowed with concern. “It is nothing bad,” she assured her sister. She took a deep breath and said the rest in a rush. “Mr. Darcy and I are married. We were married in France.”

Jane’s hands flew to her mouth as her jaw dropped open. She was struck dumb with surprise.

“I hope you are not too shocked,” Elizabeth went on. “But after I recovered from the illness, I felt that I did not want to wait….”

Jane nodded. “I remember that Mr. Darcy said you almost died,” she whispered.

“Yes. I – We – decided to become engaged and we knew it would be easier to travel if we were married, so—” Elizabeth’s words were halting as she gazed at Jane’s face. If Jane did not understand, she had little hope of explaining her actions to the rest of her family.

“I understand,” Jane said gently, patting Elizabeth’s hand. “It makes complete sense.”

Elizabeth felt tears prick her eyes. “You are too good to me. Not one word of reproach for marrying without you or for concealing the truth all this time?”

“How could I reproach you for following your heart? When I see you with Mr. Darcy, it is clear he is deeply in love with you. How could I begrudge you the same happiness I have with Charles?” Jane’s expression had regained its usual serenity.

Elizabeth had to wipe her eyes with a handkerchief. “My biggest regret was not having you there to share the joy with me. I wanted to tell you when I returned, but William and I had agreed to tell Papa first and—”

“I comprehend perfectly why you could not reveal all. But, I knew, Lizzy,” Jane smiled. “I knew something had happened between you and Mr. Darcy, although I thought it might be a secret engagement.”