Apprehension and Desire: A Tale of Pride and Prejudice (18 page)

Elizabeth stared at him. Was he not aware how ‘’clingy’’ he was himself? “It is so sad. I cannot imagine how you survived this,” she whispered.

He shrugged. “Everyone has their own hardship in life, it seems.” he smiled at her, “I swore to myself once I would not give myself so completely to any woman like my father had, that I would be more controlled and reasonable about these matters. But I failed completely when I met you.”

She reached her hand to stroke his cheek.

He squeezed her to him. “Now, good times have come for me at last. I have nothing to complain about because I have you.”

Her arms locked around his neck and she held tightly. After a moment, she heard his soft laugh, and he gently disentangled herself from him. “Do you want to strangle me?”

She shook her head, her eyes full of tears.

He frowned. “Weeping again?”

He dried the moisture from her cheeks with his fingers.

She shook her head. “What about a wedding date?” she asked, blinking her tears away. “September or October, perhaps? Three months  should be enough for my mother to see to all the preparations.”

“Elizabeth,” he whispered with raw intensity.

“You wish to wait?”

He pulled her back to him. “What do you think?” he kissed her neck, making her giggle, because he tickled her sensitive skin. “September sounds perfect, though I would wish we could be married at Pemberely when you will come there with your aunt and uncle, so you could stay with me forever.”

“But...”

“I know you want it here with your family.”

She smiled, pleased that he understood.

“I will go tomorrow to London to post an announcement to the newspaper about our engagement and bring you my mother’s ring. I know it is not always a custom, but I want you to wear it, so I know you are mine.”

“I will be honoured.”

“I gave it to the jeweller for refreshing when I was last time in London, and I think it should be ready by now.”

There was a soft knock on the door, and Jane’s muffled voice was heard. “Lizzy, Mama should return soon.”

“It is a sign for me to go.”

He stood up from her and helped her to arrange herself comfortably, putting several pillows behind her back.

He leaned for a kiss, and she hooked her arms around his neck again, pursing her lips. He smiled and kissed her, but chastely. She was disappointed but not surprised as since their last interlude when they had lost control sitting on her bed, he had visibly restrained himself in the short times when they were alone, allowing only short pecks on her lips,or kisses on the cheeks.

“Do not stay long in London.”

He kissed her again. “I will not.”

He was about to walk away, when she whispered.

“I have almost forgotten. Have you received a response from Mr. Bingley?”

Darcy’s face clouded. “Not yet,” he let out a heavy sigh. “I pray he will wish to speak to me again after what I have confessed to him in my last letter.”

Darcy was on his way to Longbourn, the same as every single day for the past three weeks. Elizabeth was to have the braces removed from her leg tomorrow, and as soon as he made sure that she was well, he would set off north. Pemberley needed his attention. He could hardly wait to have Elizabeth there, if only for a few days, on her way to the Lake District with her aunt and uncle.

Despite Elizabeth’s accident and their prior argument, he thought of the past week as one of the best since he had met her, and the happiest in his life for a very long time. Understandably, he felt compassionate and more than a bit responsible about the fact that she had hurt herself and had been forced to bed rest. On the other hand though, the relationship between them had changed and was now better than ever before.

When he had met her, he had been drawn to her instantly, to her looks, eyes, smiles, her teasing, the sound of her voice, her laugh. At that time, they had been mere acquaintances, not even friends. He had been honest enough with himself to admit that he had been falling for her. However, as he had convinced himself not to pursue her, the only honourable way then had been to step aside and torture himself watching her from the distance.

In Kent, when he had decided to court her, she had continued sharpening her wit on him and teasing him. However, she had often seemed to overlook his presence, paying more attention to his cousin than to him, which, as his future mother in law would have said, had vexed him greatly.

When he had proposed, she seemed so stunned that he had to believe that it had not been only an act on her part, but that she had truly not expected his offer. Even though she had agreed, she had not opened herself completely to him. He could feel it, that she had resisted him at every step, keeping her distance both physically and mentally. It had taken him some time and effort to one by one weaken her defences.

Since their discussion over Jane and Charles, everything had changed completely. After their argument and her consequent accident, he had been terrified, in utter despair almost, that she would break their understanding. Her father would have supported her decision. He had expected the worst to happen, but to his astonishment, relief, and heart melting joy, she had opened herself completely to him and embraced him with her whole self. His days had been measured to the next visit at Longbourn when he would again see her and talk to her, hold her hand, have her listen to him attentively when he talked about his plans, concerns, doubts. She had let him in, accepted him. It made him smile widely every single day from the moment he awoke.

He did not quite know how he reached Longbourn, but soon his horse stopped in front of the house. Shaking his head at his own absentmindedness, he dismounted and gave the reins to a stable hand. The servant led him to the parlour, where he expected the ladies of the house to be gathered as they were every day. He put a pleasant expression on his face, reminding himself to be as amiable as possible to Mrs. Bennet. For Elizabeth, he had made a resolution to be more open and polite to the people around him.

He was more than taken aback to see Bingley sitting there  among the ladies, taking tea. He had written a letter to him over two weeks ago, where he had confessed that he had been wrong in his assessment of Jane Bennet’s feelings last autumn, admitting that the lady in question had not been so indifferent as he had claimed her to be. He had shown the letter to Elizabeth, wanting to prove to her that he had truly wanted to repair his mistake.

“Mr. Darcy.” Mrs. Bennet rushed to him. “How good to see you. We did not expect you today.”

Darcy bowed, “I hope my visit is not an untimely one, madam.”

“No, of course not, although Lizzy has mentioned that she expects you tomorrow. However, you are, of course, most welcome at any time,” Mrs. Bennet stressed. “You see that Mr. Bingley has called. Why did you not tell us about his return to the neighbourhood?”

Darcy glanced at Bingley, who, for once, did not smile, but neither did he look displeased. “I assure you that I had no prior knowledge of it.”

Mrs. Bennet opened her mouth, her brow creased. “You did not?”

Bingley stood up. “Darcy, how are you?”

“I am very well, thank you. Thank you,” Darcy murmured, not knowing what to make of Bingley's expression and behaviour.

“I congratulate you on your engagement,” Bingley said, holding out his right hand. “I must admit that I was quite surprised when I read the announcement in the newspaper.”

“Yes, yes... We kept our understanding to ourselves for some time,” Darcy said and then looked at Jane. He tried to guess whether she was pleased, but like last autumn, her expression was hard to read. Elizabeth wanted her sister to be happy, and Darcy wanted Elizabeth to be happy. He hoped that bringing Bingley back would ensure it. He could hardly do more. He had confessed his misgivings to Bingley, and the rest depended on him.

“I believe that my sister is still in the gardens,” Jane mentioned in her usual sweet voice. “The doctor visited today and removed her braces a day earlier than we expected.”

Darcy blinked repeatedly in surprise, “Today? Is she well?”

“Oh yes, quite well,” Jane assured. “We could hardly keep her in the house as soon as she could walk freely on her own.”

Darcy walked to the window, hoping to see her.

“Perhaps you could look for her, Mr. Darcy, and bring her home for tea,” Mrs. Bennet suggested.

At that moment, he felt that he almost liked the woman. “Ah, yes, excellent thought, madam, excellent...,” he murmured, already retreating towards the door.

Outside, he scanned the area, to see Elizabeth sitting on the bench not far from the house. She was staring at the blue skies, her whole face smiling. She did not see him till he walked closer.

“William!” she exclaimed and ran to him.

“Easy.” He caught her by her arms. “You should not run. Your braces have been just removed.”

She shook her head. “I have no pain in my leg. It felt a bit stiff at first, but it was gone quickly.”

She hopped.

“No jumping,” he laughed, trying to stop her from bouncing.

“I am so thrilled to be able to move on my own,” she grinned. “I want to dance!”

He laughed at her enthusiasm and inability to stay still. He still found it hard to believe that this dark haired spitfire was a part of his life now. How could he live without her, realizing how sour his life had been before he had met her?

She lifted up on her toes and gave him a peck on the cheek. “Wait here for me. I will be back soon,” she whispered, smiling, and sprinted to the house.

Darcy opened his mouth to cry so she would not run, but then realized there was no use trying to stop her.

She returned within minutes, out of breath and beautifully flushed, her chest heaving. His eyes travelled from her sparkling eyes to her lips, her creamy neck and lower, and he felt himself growing hard again. This instant reaction he had for her was troubling and uncomfortable, especially when they were in company. After the wedding, he would keep her in their bedroom for a week at least, until his hunger would ease and he could think straight again and act normally around her. He would  then, surely, have himself under good regulation like before.

She took his arm and led him where the small park started,   where they could not be seen from the windows. She sat on the bench and with a gesture of her hand, invited him to take a place next to her.

He sat close, inhaling her sweet scent, fighting the temptation to kiss her neck. Then he noticed the package in her hands, a flat box wrapped in lavender coloured paper.

“What is that?”

She placed the item on his lap. “I made these for you,” she said, her voice shy.

He gave her a questioning look. He had not expected any gifts. His fingers touched the bluish ribbon that it was tied with.

“Please open...,” she hesitated, “I know that they are nothing special, but I wanted to repay you for your generosity,  for all the gifts I have received from you.”

With careful fingers, he untied the bow, pushed the wrapping away, and opened the box. Inside there were neatly arranged white handkerchiefs with his initials embroidered in the corners.

“I know that the embroidery is a bit uneven and the material wrinkles here and there, but I never had patience for sewing the way Jane does,” she said after a moment, her voice unsure.

His throat squeezed; he could hardly remember receiving any gifts for years now. Apart from Georgiana’s drawings, or the new songs she had learned to play for him, nobody had thought to do something like that.

“They are beautiful,” his voice cracked. She must have made them especially for him during the time she had been convalescing.

Elizabeth gave him a doubtful look, “You do not have to pretend that they are something exceptional for my sake. I know that they a far cry from what you could buy in London.”

He took a calming breath, feeling once again in control of himself, his sudden emotions over her gift safely repressed. He hated to be so touched with things, and it happened quite often when he was in Elizabeth’s company. Good Lord, a moment ago he had been on the verge of crying over the fact that his betrothed had hand made a set of handkerchiefs.

“I meant what I said.” He looked at her, engaging his most serious voice.

“Will you use them?” she asked hopefully.

“Till they are completely worn out.”

“Seven.” A small finger pointed to the box. “One for each day of the week.”

He covered the box and put it aside, then wrapped her tightly in his arms. “Thank you so much, sweetheart.” He kissed her neck. “I will treasure them.”

“I want you to use them.”

“I will, I promise.”

He kissed her briefly and then crushed her to him again.

He felt her pushing away from him.

“Have you  seen Mr. Bingley?”

“Yes, I have.” He pushed an escaped lock of hair behind her ear. “I was surprised to see him sitting in the parlour with your mother and sisters. He has not replied to my letter; I had no idea he would return.”