Unforgiving Temper (60 page)

Elizabeth's mind wandered again, this time
with thoughts of Jane and the new life she was about to embrace.
There would be no more Jane Bennet. Only Jane Bingley. For
Elizabeth, there would be no more late night talks whispered
beneath the covers. Only a cold, empty darkness. She would visit
Jane quite often, of that she was certain. But it would never be
the same between them again.

Before long, the curate finished the last
prayer and invited the guests to wait for the newlyweds in the
churchyard. He then asked the married couple and witnesses to sign
the parish register, leading them into the vestry where the
ancient, leather-bound book was kept. When it was Elizabeth's turn,
she bent to add her own name as witness, squeezing back tears of
joy and sadness that clouded her vision. Pen still in hand, she
paused at the sight of Jane's elegantly-penned name beside that of
her new husband. No, things would never be the same again.

“May I?” Mr. Darcy's voice sounded low
and soft beside her.

Elizabeth jumped at his sudden nearness. “I
beg your pardon?”

His amused smile brought a flush of color to
her cheek. “The pen – may I have it to add my signature?”

“Of course,” she murmured quietly and held
the pen out for him. As he took it, she could feel the warmth of
his hand against her gloved fingers. Totally unprepared for the
spark that shot through her at his touch, she jerked her hand back,
rubbing it as she held it behind her back.

“If you will excuse me, I believe my family
is waiting for me.” Offering a quick curtsey, Elizabeth turned and
walked away without looking back.
One more day!
She told
herself resolutely.
I have only to endure this one more day and
then he shall be gone.
She refused to consider what lay in the
days ahead when she would be left with nothing but his memory.

Elizabeth heard her mother even before she
stepped from the dimness of the church into the bright morning sun.
Steeling herself to face Lydia and Wickham, she made her way to the
carriages that would take them to the wedding breakfast at
Longbourn. She arrived just as Jane and Bingley pulled away amid
cheerful shouts of “Hurrah!”

“Oh, Lizzy, there you are!” her mother cried
with excitement. “Look! Our dear Lydia and Wickham have come to the
wedding! What a good joke to surprise us so; but now
Mr. Wickham says they cannot stay for the breakfast! They have
come all this way from Newcastle and cannot stay. Did you ever hear
of such a thing?”

“Alas,” Wickham offered apologetically, “we
are actually travelling to the south – a pressing assignment I have
been given – and have only stopped long enough for my dear wife to
attend her sister's wedding. Perhaps we will be able to stay longer
on our return.”

“It seems very unfortunate, indeed,”
Elizabeth replied coolly.

Not really listening to her mother's chatter
of gowns and guests and all it took to prepare for the wedding,
Elizabeth could now see that Lydia was more than a little out of
sorts. Her natural enthusiasm was diminished considerably despite
the occasional smiles that seemed a little too bright, and there
was something not quite right about the way Wickham kept a
possessive hand on Lydia's arm.

“Surely you can take a little time for
refreshment, Mr. Wickham,” Elizabeth urged, wanting time to
speak with Lydia.

“No, I am afraid we have delayed too long
already.”

“Perhaps an hour? That would not delay your
journey much. I am sure Lydia would appreciate the time to see her
family.”

“And yet, I must insist on our departure.
Lydia understands the necessity and is quite willing to wait for
our return trip. Is that not so, my love?”

“Oh, yes! George has very important business
that cannot wait. He was so good to take the time to come to the
wedding so that I might see you all for a moment, was he not?”
Lydia's bright smile did not completely hide the hint of
desperation in her eyes. “Please tell Jane I wish her every
happiness and we shall see her very soon.”

Handing Lydia into the carriage, Wickham
turned back with his own brilliant smile. “Well, ladies, I must bid
you adieu. Mrs. Bennet, please convey my regards to
Mr. Bennet and tell him I am sorry to have missed him. I
understand his health is much improved.”

“I shall, indeed, Mr. Wickham,”
Elizabeth's mother prattled. “You are so kind to bring my dear
Lydia, even for a short time. It does a mother's heart good to see
her. We will look forward to a longer visit very soon!”

Elizabeth felt a curious mixture of concern
and relief as she watched the Wickhams' carriage pull away.
Wickham's manner had made her all the more determined to speak with
Lydia and find the reason for her strange behavior. At the same
time, she was grateful the visit would be delayed until after
Mr. Darcy left Netherfield, for now he would be spared the
discomfort of having to publicly acknowledge Mr. Wickham.

Following her mother into their own carriage,
Elizabeth sat down with a silent prayer of gratitude that at least
her fears of Mr. Darcy and Mr. Wickham meeting had been
for naught.

* * * *

Mr. and Mrs. Bennet stood in the foyer
of Longbourn with their daughter and her new husband, greeting the
seemingly endless stream of well-wishers. The house was filled to
capacity and extra servants, no doubt hired to expedite the day's
festivities, scurried to and fro amidst the guests. Darcy could not
imagine that there was anyone in the neighborhood that had
not
been invited to the celebration. Mrs. Bennet beamed
with all the pride and pleasure of a mother whose daughter had made
an excellent match. Indeed, Jane Bennet had married well, but to
Darcy's mind it was the mutual understanding and genuine affection
between Bingley and his bride that made it so excellent. Something
he hoped to have for himself.

His eyes strayed across the room once more to
Elizabeth and Mrs. Gardiner, who were in earnest conversation. Just
then something amusing was said between them, sending the sound of
Elizabeth's enchanting laughter above the noise of the room. A pang
of longing swelled in Darcy's chest and Bingley's words plucked at
him.
Ask her!

Perhaps Bingley was right. Now that the
wedding was nearly done, she seemed less anxious, less reticent. In
spite of the cool reception she had given him at every meeting
since his arrival, he refused to believe she was beyond his reach,
and their encounter at the parish register this morning had given
him renewed hope. He knew she had felt what he did when he touched
her hand.

Watching her converse with her aunt, he
followed her every gesture, considered every aspect that graced her
charmingly expressive face, wanting to know the depths of her
heart. As if hearing his thoughts, she suddenly looked up and met
his gaze, an inscrutable expression on her face.

Unalterably drawn to the mysteries hidden
behind those dark brown eyes, Darcy resolutely closed the distance
that separated him from his future, every step drowning out that
ever-present voice of reason and propriety that had always kept him
safe from the prying eyes of the world. At that moment, he no
longer cared what anyone else thought of him. All he cared about
was what Elizabeth thought – and he intended to find out.

“Miss Bennet, Mrs. Gardiner,” he greeted
the ladies, pleased with the blush that tinged Elizabeth's cheeks
as she sent a quick, nervous glance to her aunt.

“Mr. Darcy, I was just remarking to
Elizabeth what a splendid morning it has been. Do you not
agree?”

“Yes, it has,” he responded amiably, a look
of admiration fixed firmly upon Elizabeth. “I can hardly imagine a
better match, or one with greater promise of happiness for
both.”

“Yes, I believe you are right, sir.” A
perceptive gleam lit the older woman's eye. “And speaking of
excellent matches, I see my husband is looking for me.”

Mrs. Gardiner's parting look of reassurance
to Elizabeth did not go unnoticed by Darcy, and he watched as she
joined Mr. Gardiner, giving her husband an affectionate look that
spoke of many happy years together. Darcy observed the exchange
with a renewed admiration for the couple's amiable nature.

Turning back to Elizabeth, he looked into her
upturned face and was caught once again in the power of her gaze
which ignited his soul with a desperate need for answers. What was
she thinking? Could he draw out the feelings she had tried to hide
in London? Could it be that he affected her heart as she did
his?

Indifferent to the growing interest of others
in the room, he was determined to find out.

“The Gardiners are fine people. I am very
glad to know them; although I must admit the acquaintance was
formed with some reluctance.”

“Reluctance?” Elizabeth's tone tightened in
obvious challenge. “Do you object to my uncle, sir? Admittedly, the
circumstances were not the best…”

“Pray, do not be uneasy, Miss Bennet.
Let me assure you I hold Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner in the highest
regard.” Darcy moved closer with an enticing smile, breathing
deeply the delicate scent of lavender in her hair. “It is only
that, while I was very pleased to meet your favorite relations,
they were also the very means by which you were taken from me in
London.”

Elizabeth's eyes widened in pleasant
surprise. “Oh! I imagined you happy to see me go. When I informed
you of my sister and Mr. Wickham, I thought…”

“What – that it would alter my affection?”
Darcy's brow rose skeptically. “After all I had confessed to
you?”

“You were so abrupt,” she gasped in
astonishment at his frankness, her color rising. “How could I think
anything else?”

“You could have given me the benefit of the
doubt. Did you suppose a worm like Wickham could change my regard
for you?”

“Perhaps not. I like to think he could not –
had things been different. Mr. Wickham's marriage to my sister
has saved us all from certain ruin, and you have my deepest
gratitude for that, Mr. Darcy. Regrettably, the very thing
that saved our family now prevents you from acting on any…regard
you may have. I am sensible enough to understand that you are a man
of position, of station and responsibility, and you are constrained
by those responsibilities.”

His voice softened to an intimate murmur as
he bent briefly to whisper in her ear. “That, my dearest
Miss Bennet, is where you are very much mistaken.”

A small grin lit his face when she opened her
mouth to reply, then abruptly closed it as she considered his
words. He waited patiently for her to fully comprehend his meaning,
watching with growing amusement as her expression transformed
swiftly from puzzlement to dismay to wonder.

“Mistaken, Mr. Darcy?” Her voice
quivered breathlessly with her reply.

“Utterly and completely. I did observe once
that you sometimes express opinions which in fact are not your
own.” Her chagrin at his teasing was so charming that he could
barely contain the urge to sweep her into his arms.

Becoming aware of the open-mouthed stares
around them, Darcy allowed his voice of reason to intrude once
again. At the moment, he cared little for the opinion of country
society, or any society for that matter, but he had to think of
Elizabeth. This was her home and her friends. For her sake, he
would make a better impression than he had upon his first visit to
Hertfordshire. Stepping back a pace, he smiled broadly.

“I am afraid I have selfishly taken up too
much of your time. Please forgive me. However, I would very much
like to continue our conversation, Miss Bennet. There is a
very particular question I have long wanted to ask you. Would you
grant me the honor of a private interview tomorrow morning?”

“Tomorrow morning?” Elizabeth repeated
faintly, now blushing furiously under his gaze. Struggling to
regain a modicum of control, she finally managed to whisper, “I
believe I shall be at home tomorrow morning, sir.”

“Tomorrow, then,” he murmured, lifting her
hand to his lips and feeling her tremble as he kissed it.

Reluctantly releasing Elizabeth's hand, he
offered a quick bow before turning away in search of Bingley,
barely containing his utter joy in the knowledge that he did,
indeed, possess the ability to affect her heart as well.

He gave no thought to Mrs. Bennet's
gasps of amazement, nor did he care that all of Meryton society had
witnessed his efforts. He had at last discovered the reasons for
Elizabeth's reticence and they were happily put to rest. More
importantly, her delightful response to his overtures was vastly
encouraging, giving rise to great anticipation of their meeting on
the morrow.

Content now to simply observe Elizabeth from
a distance, Darcy had drifted into a quiet corner of the Bennet's
drawing room to await the conclusion of the wedding festivities. He
cast a look at the newlyweds on occasion, smiling at his friend's
thinly-veiled eagerness to be gone. Poor Bingley! There were still
a great many hands to shake and cheeks to kiss before they could
even begin to think of taking their leave.

A slight break in the stream of well-wishers
was filled instantly by Elizabeth embracing her sister and
whispering in her ear. The sisters shared a radiant smile, and a
quick, buoyant look in his direction was answered with a
deferential bow of his head. Mrs. Bingley's respite did not last
long, however, and soon Bingley was compelled to reclaim his bride
for another round of greetings.

Almost immediately following the sisters'
conversation, Darcy was not surprised to see Mrs. Gardiner engage
Elizabeth in a brief exchange – one which ended in yet another
glance in his direction, accompanied this time by an approving look
from the aunt. Neither was he surprised when the object of his
observations next found Mrs. Collins' willing ear. Darcy watched
the two friends with continuing interest. He imagined that Mrs.
Collins was at this very moment hearing the details of his recent
conversation with Elizabeth – and from the shy smile on Elizabeth's
face, he was encouraged that her feelings may indeed be all that he
could wish for.