What Would Mr. Darcy Do? (10 page)

Hearing a degree of pain in his voice, she hastened to add, “But that was only when I first knew you. Your behavior at Pemberley showed me you were nothing of the sort, and I never saw any evidence of it in Kent, either, now that I think on it.”

“You never saw me in a large gathering at Rosings or Pemberley. You may feel differently when you have.” His voice was guarded.

She turned to face him. “I shall feel no differently at all,” she said, and to punctuate her statement she raised her head and brushed her lips lightly against his.

As she withdrew, he immediately placed his hand behind her neck and drew her back to him for a much deeper, more lingering kiss. As they broke off, he said somewhat ruefully, “This may be a very long two weeks.”

Elizabeth found herself with an unwontedly serious reaction to his comment.
In two weeks he will be my husband,
she thought.
In two weeks, we will be alone together and he will not stop with kisses.
She felt a peculiar lurch deep inside her at the thought of the unknown. Before Darcy could note her change in mood, she said lightly, “Patience is a virtue, Mr. Darcy.”

“One I am afraid I do not possess when it comes to you, my dearest,” he said. “But you still seem averse to calling me by my name, even when we are alone.”

Elizabeth laughed. “And do you not know why,
Mr. Darcy
?”

“Please enlighten me.”

She looked up at him through her lashes. “As you wish, Fitzwilliam.”

A familiar light ignited in his eyes as he reached out to trace his finger across her lips and the line of her jaw. He smiled slightly as he shifted to allow her to lie in his arms. Elizabeth’s breath caught as he slowly bent his head to capture her mouth. His tantalizing kisses distracted her from her purpose, and she gave in to the temptation to taste the pleasure he offered.

After a moment, though, she laid her fingers over his lips, and smiled mischievously up at him. “Do you still wish to know why I do not use your name? I have noted it seems to have a most peculiar effect on you, much as it just did. But I promise you, when we are safely married, I shall call you by it frequently.”

He thoughtfully nibbled her fingertips, causing Elizabeth to feel a distinct loss of interest in discussing the matter any further. He noted to himself that it was true that, during the many times he had imagined her calling him by name, it was often in one very particular setting, with a particular response on his part. A slow smile came over his face. “You are a very wicked woman, Miss Bennet,” he murmured. He began placing excruciatingly light and slow kisses on the soft, uncovered skin of her shoulder, while whispering, “Very, very wicked.” By the time he had found his way to the sensitive hollow at the base of her neck, Elizabeth had given up any pretense of resistance, and allowed herself to tangle her fingers in his hair in encouragement. He continued to enjoy tantalizing her until her rapid breathing and arched body became too much for him, and their mouths met hungrily.

He lifted his face to allow her to meet his passion-darkened eyes. “Say my name, Elizabeth,” he commanded softly. Shaking her head playfully, she attempted to pull his head back to hers. “Oh, no, Miss Bennet,” he murmured. “No more kisses for you until you say it.”

She raised her eyebrow. “I
am
very wicked,” she said with a playful smile, and began reciting his name as rapidly as she could, with an inflection of mirth. With a mock glare, he nipped lightly at her neck, causing a squeal and fit of laughter. They smiled contentedly into one another’s eyes, enjoying the game, until without warning the lighthearted moment shifted into a more serious one of deep attraction and desire.

Darcy slid one hand to her head, allowing his fingers to caress the silky curls he had longed to touch for so long. His thumb traced circles on her temple, and his breathing became shallow as he watched her eyes darken and her lips part. “Elizabeth,” he whispered, making the syllables of her name into a caress.

“Fitzwilliam,” she responded, her voice warm with passion. “Oh, Fitzwilliam.”

It was far too close to his fantasies. He tried to assert control over his response, only to realize he had left it too long. He tasted her mouth, first lightly and then with burgeoning passion that stole away his senses. He knew that he must withdraw, but his lips would not cooperate and began to explore downward along her neck, then lower to the tender skin exposed by the neckline of her dress where he was not supposed to even allow his eyes to rest. He was even further inflamed by her gasps as this new sensation built in her to an excruciating tension.

Afterward Elizabeth would wonder what part of her had finally responded to her spiraling desire with a sense of panic that made her push him away. For a moment, Darcy looked at her uncomprehendingly as she withdrew from him, then he rose and took several rapid strides away from her. Facing away from her, he gripped one hand against a tree and stood in tense silence, staring unseeingly across the countryside.

Elizabeth also looked away, sobered by what had happened, and even more so by the realization of how far she had allowed her behavior to stray. How had it come to pass that she was allowing, nay, participating in the liberties he had taken? What was it about Darcy that tempted her to flout every rule she had ever known? She looked up to see him framed against the sunset, his unmoving form still in the attitude of painful tension. It hurt her to see him so, far more than she could explain to herself, and she realized the true question she should ask herself was how she came to love him so much that nothing else mattered.

“Mr. Darcy?” she said gently. Without turning, he held his hand up in a clear request that she desist. She bit her lip, not knowing how best to address his current distress, her own concerns forgotten in her apprehension for his. She waited briefly, then spoke his name again.

“Miss Bennet, please be so kind as to allow me to finish castigating myself before you take your turn; you may rest assured I am doing a very thorough job of it.”

Hearing the bitterness of his words, she recognized what she was witnessing was similar to Georgiana’s description of another time when he failed to meet his own strict standards. She saw this was where she would need to begin thinking like a wife, for she would certainly need the capability to handle these situations in the future. Georgiana had indicated that offering sympathy was not productive, so a different approach was required. A thought occurred to her of how to draw him out of himself. “Perhaps what I am lacking, sir, is not an opportunity to castigate, but to receive comfort,” she said.

He stiffened visibly, and for a moment Elizabeth thought her words had only served to make him blame himself yet further; then he approached her and, kneeling in front of her, took her hands in his. “Forgive me, my dearest; I was selfishly thinking only of myself, and not of you. Thank you for drawing my attention to the obvious.”

She gave a slight smile. “Thank you for listening.”

“Elizabeth, I shall always come when you ask, and no doubt more often than you would wish! Please do not distress yourself over what happened; it should not have happened, but given that it did, we can only remember that in two weeks we shall be man and wife, and none of this will matter.”

She squeezed his hands. “It has been a rather emotional day, has it not?”

“Indeed,” he agreed, “and I am sure that we are both somewhat overwrought at this point. I will not allow it to happen again.”

“For two weeks.”

“Yes,” he said with a smile, “For two weeks. Then you must take your chances. But I note that the light is fading fast, and we should be returning to the house.”

As he stood and moved to offer her his arm, she gave in to impulse and embraced him. In the circle of his arms, she thought to herself that perhaps her instincts would not serve her so ill with him after all.

The next day proved to be just as busy as Elizabeth had anticipated, between a visit to the mantua-maker’s shop in Meryton to select fabric and a model for her wedding gown, the arrival of the Gardiners and Jane, and the excitement of sharing her news. Darcy joined them for much of the day, and though Elizabeth felt the lack of time alone with him, she had the satisfaction of seeing her father taking pains to get acquainted with him. She was also pleased to notice Darcy in close conference with her uncle at one point. It was of great satisfaction to her to see their mutual respect.

That evening, after she retired, Elizabeth was not surprised to hear a knock on the door, as she had expected Jane would want to hear more about the recent events in private conversation. Her surmise was incorrect, however, in that her visitor was in fact Mrs. Gardiner.

“Lizzy, I wanted to tell you how very happy I am that you and Mr. Darcy have reached an understanding,” her aunt said warmly, taking her by the hands.

“Thank you. I had noticed you seemed to look with some favor on the idea,” she replied. “But I must thank you for the little pushes you gave us in the right direction.”

“My dear, that was my pleasure entirely. But as delightful as that subject is, I was hoping to have conference with you on a different matter.”

Elizabeth, with some curiosity, invited her aunt to sit.

“The subject is somewhat delicate, and in many ways I feel Mr. Darcy should be telling you this himself, but he requested, I believe out of natural modesty, of your uncle that we be the ones to speak with you of this. He did not wish you to know of it earlier, but feels it is inappropriate to keep it a secret from you any longer, especially as some of the parties to the secret are not particularly trustworthy.”

By this juncture, Elizabeth was burning with inquisitiveness and more than a little anxiety, wondering what could be so terrible that Darcy would be unwilling to tell her. “You are keeping me in suspense, aunt. What is this dread secret?”

Her aunt, however, seemed unable to be direct about the subject. “I told you, I believe, that Mr. Darcy called on us at Gracechurch Street several times after our return from Derbyshire, did I not? I did not, however, disclose the true purpose of his visits, which your uncle had, without my knowledge, been expecting from discussion with Mr. Darcy on our last day in Lambton. The first time he called, he was shut up with your uncle for several hours, and it was not until afterward that I learned that he had come to tell your uncle that he had found out where your sister Lydia and Mr. Wickham were, and that he had seen and talked with them both.”

“He had done
what
?” Elizabeth asked, in utter astonishment.

“His goal was to secure and expedite their marriage. As you may have guessed, it was never Wickham’s design to marry your sister, but he was in some rather serious financial straits, and was not proof against the temptation of immediate relief. Mr. Darcy met with him several times, as Wickham of course wanted more than he could get, but at length was reduced to be reasonable. After they had reached a settlement, Mr. Darcy acquainted your uncle with the situation, and then
they
spent some time battling out the question of who was to settle the matter. At last your uncle was forced to yield to Mr. Darcy’s demand that nothing was to be done that he did not do himself, and agreed to his one request, which was that no one in your family be informed in any way of his part in this. This went sorely against the grain for both of us, but given how much we owed him, we did not deem it reasonable to refuse, though I will say it put me in quite a difficult position a few weeks later when you told me that Mr. Darcy would never be able to tolerate being in the same room as Wickham! And that, my dear, is the entire story.”

Elizabeth’s astonishment at this recounting was great, and left her briefly speechless. Finally she asked, “But why did he not want me to know?”

“My dear, as I understand it, he was in hopes of winning your affections, and was concerned that if you knew of his role in this, you might accept him out of a sense of obligation, which was not his desire. I gather this is no longer a concern.”

Elizabeth hardly knew what to think. That Darcy would have taken on himself all the trouble and mortification attendant on finding Wickham and Lydia, that he would agree to meet, reason with, persuade, and finally bribe, the man whom he always most wished to avoid, and whose very name it was punishment to him to pronounce—despite her high opinion of him, this went far beyond what she could have expected.

She had many more questions for her aunt, and the next hour was spent in conversation.

***

The following day Elizabeth, knowing her chances of finding time alone with Darcy were slim, made a point of capturing him as soon as he arrived at Longbourn with Bingley, who was newly arrived at Netherfield. Drawing him off into the dining room, she took some time expressing her appreciation for all that he had done for Lydia and her pride in his actions. Darcy, who was less than comfortable with discussing the matter, made a concerted effort to change the subject, and eventually managed to work Elizabeth around to discussing wedding plans.

They resolved it would be best not to announce a date for their wedding until after Jane and Bingley’s was past, to avoid any explanation that might ruin Jane’s honeymoon surprise. However, it seemed prudent to tell a few select people whose plans would be affected by their idea, and so Mr. Bennet, Georgiana, Bingley, and the Gardiners were informed. Mr. Bennet was not best pleased with the plan, since he was by no means ready to lose Elizabeth quite so soon, but he resolved to hold his peace after one look at Darcy’s face when he suggested a delay.

Elizabeth did not in fact get a moment alone with Darcy until she saw him out of Longbourn when he prepared to depart that evening. Darcy, who had clearly been waiting for this opportunity the entire day, lost no time in finding a shadowy and secluded spot by the gate where he could pull her into his arms.

“Promise me you will reserve tomorrow afternoon for my
exclusive
use, or I will not be responsible for the consequences!” he whispered, feathering kisses behind her ear and down her neck.

“With or without chaperones?” asked Elizabeth, with what she thought to be remarkable aplomb given the sensations he was inducing in her.

“We seem to be rather troublesome for our chaperones. Perhaps we should not force anyone to struggle through the experience.” He turned his attention to her hairline.

“You are very charitable, Mr. Darcy.” Their mouths met in a hungry kiss that Elizabeth had been longing for all day.

When he released her, she leaned back against the wall and looked up at him. Darcy was breathing hard. “If
you
were charitable, Miss Bennet, you would marry me tomorrow,” he said.

She pretended to consider the idea. “No, I’m afraid not. We would have to stay at Netherfield until Jane’s wedding, and I do not plan to spend my wedding night as a guest in someone else’s home.”

She felt him stop breathing for a moment. He stepped toward her, and trapping her against the wall by placing his hands on either side of her, he said, “Miss Bennet, this is friendly advice which you can accept or disregard as you choose, but I would suggest that when you are alone in the dark with a man who is quite violently in love with you, it would be advisable to avoid mention of your wedding night.”

She stood on her toes and proceeded to brush her lips against his unyielding ones tantalizingly until he could deny himself no longer and kissed her deeply. After a moment, she leaned back and said quite deliberately, “After all, I want you all to myself on our wedding night.”

Darcy’s hands gripped her arms tightly, but Elizabeth did not notice the discomfort. “I think you should go back to the house, Miss Bennet,” he said with tight control.

She raised an eyebrow. “I fear that will not be possible, sir.”

“Why is that?”

She glanced down at his hands with an amused smile. “Because you are not allowing me to, Mr. Darcy.”

“Ah,” he said, sounding surprised. “What a good idea of mine.” He leaned forward, effectively pinning her against the wall, and proceeded to explore her mouth with a thoroughness and unrestrained passion that left her breathless. The exquisite sensation of his body against hers was augmented by the stirring feelings caused by his hands wandering down her arms and into the sensitive reaches of her back, caressing and demanding at the same time.

The temptation to touch him was more than she could control. She allowed her hands to explore the firm muscles of his shoulders, where, as if unsatisfied, they seemed to travel of their own accord inside the reaches of his coat and around his neck. The exhilarating feeling of his strength through nothing more than the thin cloth of his shirt left her weak.

“Elizabeth,” he groaned. “What are you trying to do to me?” His kisses grew even more demanding as he pressed her closer to him.

Brought back to herself by his words, she drew her hands away, and removed temptation by concealing her face in his shoulder. He buried his face in her hair as he worked to regain control. “You seem to have moved from playing with fire to sitting on the volcano, my love,” he said softly. “Please remember I am only too human.”

“As I am well aware,” she replied. “But you tempted me first, sir, by suggesting I might disregard your warning. I do not think I will believe you if you tell me that you were not hoping that I would say something provocative!”

“Caught again!” he exclaimed. “You are a dangerous woman, Miss Bennet.” He stepped back from her and looked at her critically. “I would add that if you really do not wish to be married tomorrow, I suggest that you had best not meet your family until you have had a chance to repair some damage.” He touched her hair lightly.

“I shall say good night then.”

“Until tomorrow,” he responded. Giving her one last look, he paused to trace his finger lightly along her collarbone. “I hope you sleep better than I shall!” he said, and then was gone.

***

Two nights later, a large party assembled at Netherfield for the benefit of the many out-of-town guests arriving for the wedding. A number of neighborhood families were invited as well, including the Lucases and the Philips. Darcy chose to wait upstairs until the Bennets arrived along with Georgiana, who had surprised no one by choosing to remain at Longbourn until her return to town. He preferred to limit his exposure to the crowded scene, a sentiment which was reinforced by the knowledge Miss Bingley had been trying to corner him on his own ever since her arrival earlier that day. Finally the carriage he had been awaiting appeared, and his aspect changed to one of smiling anticipation.

He met the party at the door, offering one arm to Elizabeth and the other to Georgiana, who had received special permission to attend the gathering although she was not officially “out.” Her excitement at the occasion was visible, contrasting with her brother who was quite ready to quit the assembly before he had even entered, and she was clearly more interested in enjoying the occasion with her friends than with her sedate older brother.

Darcy and Elizabeth drew a certain amount of attention from members of the assemblage due to the news of their engagement, and were thus required to circulate more than they might have chosen to otherwise. At one point, Darcy was drawn off by Bingley to converse with some mutual friends, and Elizabeth took the opportunity to search out Georgiana. She found her with Kitty, Mary, and some of their Meryton friends, in close conversation, which Elizabeth, glad to see her enjoying herself, chose not to interrupt. As she was returning to the main group, she chanced to hear her name spoken in a separate conversation by a familiar voice.

“Miss Eliza Bennet? A disappointment, to be sure, but not a fatal one.” Miss Bingley’s autocratic voice came clearly from the next room.

“You must be quite angry that she managed to allure him away from you,” responded an unknown voice.

“I am not best pleased to lose Mr. Darcy’s favor, it is true, but as for Miss Eliza, I feel mostly pity for the poor thing.”

“Why would you pity her? She has made a brilliant match for herself—one has to wonder how she did it.”

Miss Bingley sniffed. “I pity her because he will make her miserable. Oh, right now he is completely infatuated with the little chit, and will do absolutely anything to please her, even to the point of tolerating her abominable family. But will that be the case when the infatuation wears off? You know his pride—he may submerge it, but it will never disappear, and when he truly realizes what he has done, what sort of woman he has tied himself to, for whom he has been cut off by family and no doubt part of the
ton
, whom he has chosen to be a model for his sister—what will be the result then? She will be an embarrassment to him, and were her motives solely mercenary, this would no doubt be tolerable enough to her, but the poor thing clearly fancies herself in love with him. Indeed, I pity her for what will happen then, although a more sensible woman would have foreseen it and kept to her own level of society.”

Elizabeth had overheard more than enough, and withdrew the way she had come to avoid detection. Her initial reaction was fury, but she soon converted herself back to humor as she realized that Miss Bingley’s jealousy would not be able to let her engagement pass without any attempt at sabotage. There was bound to be talk of this sort when a woman of little fortune married a man of his wealth, and she needed to inure herself to the innuendoes. She reminded herself that, for all the relative brevity of their relationship, she knew Darcy far better than Miss Bingley did, and she knew the changes in his character were real ones. With that, she determined to seek him out again, and eventually found him cloistered in the library.

She smiled warmly at him. “Hiding away, my dearest?”

“Never from you.” He stood, and, taking her hands in his, allowed his lips to brush lightly against hers. “Perhaps I was only waiting for you to find me so I might steal a few moments of your company to myself. Have I told you how very lovely you look tonight?”