Darcy & Elizabeth: A Season of Courtship (Darcy Saga Prequel Duo) (10 page)

Bingley’s verbal outburst, leap
from his chair, and uncharacteristically choleric expression startled both
Darcy and Mr. Bennet. Darcy was equally incensed at the idea of waiting until
the following year to marry Elizabeth. He simply had not expected Bingley to
explode first—or to launch into a tirade.

“I mean no offense, and respect
your opinion, sir, but I protest vehemently! I have said nothing as yet on
setting a date for marrying Jane, in all honesty content to enjoy our season of
courtship. Also because it never occurred to me that a lengthy engagement
spread before us. Nor has that been a concern of Jane’s. In fact, we have
discussed our plans and future with the presumption that well before
Christmastide we would be husband and wife. Please do not—”

“Calm yourself, Mr. Bingley. I was
referring to Lizzy and Mr. Darcy, not you and Jane. Unless Mrs. Bennet’s idea
of a double wedding was on your mind?”

“I cannot say I have had time to
dwell upon the prospect, Darcy’s engagement unknown to me until hours ago, but
I am not averse to the idea, no. Nevertheless”—Bingley stepped closer to
Mr. Bennet’s desk—“whether our marriages occur together or not, neither
of us nor our ladies should suffer the agony of waiting until spring. A handful
of weeks, to organize the ceremony, announce the banns, and make preparations
for our brides, is understandable and necessary, especially for Darcy, with Pemberley
a distance away. Beyond that, I beg you, sir, do not insist.”

Mr. Bennet stared at Bingley for
another minute, then down at his hands clenched tensely on his lap, and
eventually over at Darcy. “You are strangely silent, Mr. Darcy.”

“Mr. Bingley has spoken succinctly,
and since I agree with him wholeheartedly on each point, I see no purpose in
elaborating.”

Nor do I think a threat to
abscond with Elizabeth straight to Gretna Green if not permitted to marry soon
will help my case.

“The ardency of love.” Mr. Bennet
grunted. “I am not so old that I have forgotten what that feels like. And the
paradox is that if ardency was not strong, I would be concerned as well. Hmm.
It is clear I am overruled then. No question that Lizzy and Jane will agree
with you two, but worst of all would be Mrs. Bennet’s dismay if forced to
postpone her visible triumph at marrying two of her daughters to such eligible
gentlemen. Frankly, that prospect is more than I can bear. Very well then. Hand
me that calendar, Mr. Bingley.”

* *
*

As Lady Catherine de Bourgh had
recently pronounced, the park surrounding Longbourn
was
small,
especially compared to Rosings or Pemberley. It is also true that size is a
relative measure, and any space can be utilized wisely and maintained.

Lizzy considered the gardens,
graveled walkways, sheltered copses, cobbled patios, hedge-rimmed pond, lawned
areas, and stable yard surrounding Longbourn more than adequate for childhood
adventures—and mature pleasures. Prior to tonight, she had not thought to
wonder whether Mr. Darcy’s opinion would lean toward agreement with his aunt or
be in line with hers. While Lady Catherine’s dismissal of the garden bothered
Lizzy not one whit, she did hope Mr. Darcy assessment was favorable. She
foresaw them passing many hours strolling there in the weeks to come.

At least he has not said
anything negative.
She glanced upward at his serene face.
Nor has he
said anything positive, as far as that goes!

For fifteen minutes, since leaving
the house, they had wandered in silence. The only sounds, aside from those of
nature, were the soft tones of conversation coming from Jane and Mr. Bingley.
They walked several feet ahead of Lizzy and her betrothed, and, she noted, were
veering toward a tall elm tree under which sat a lone bench sized for only two
people. Another swift glance at Mr. Darcy revealed nothing as to his thoughts
on that development. By all appearances, he was content to placidly gaze at the
starlit sky and passing foliage. Even his subtle leading in the opposite
direction from the elm and newly occupied bench could be interpreted as sheer
accident for all the obvious awareness he extended.

Lizzy bit her lip. She was
undecided whether his silence was a sign of tranquility or if he was wrestling
with weighty matters. After spending nearly an hour holed up with Mr. Bingley
and her father, her imagination had run amok, leaving her unusually
tongue-tied. That annoyed her more than anything!

“Mr. Bennet mentioned that you
ritually stroll in the garden after dinner. Was he speaking literally?”

He spoke barely above a whisper,
yet after a quarter of an hour yearning for him to break the silence, Lizzy
jumped what felt like a foot in the air. “I…yes…I do…stroll, if weather
permits, that is. If I sit still after a large meal I feel…weighted down, I
suppose is one way to describe it. Unless engaged in active entertainment of
some sort, I inevitably chafe to move and breathe fresh air.”

“While staying at Netherfield when
Jane was ill, I recall seeing you duck onto the terrace a time or two. Of
course, I could not be certain if it was a need for air or to escape from Miss
Bingley.”

Lizzy’s eyes opened wide. “Am I
correct, Mr. Darcy, in that you are making a joke at another person’s expense?”

He smiled and looked at her for the
first time—that she was aware of—since their walk began. “It does
happen upon occasion, Elizabeth. I shan’t make a habit of it if humor from me
is too shocking for your system to assimilate. As pleasant as it may be for me
to perform tasks necessary to revive you, I still would not wish to see you
faint at my feet.”

“I think I can adjust well enough
not to faint, but I appreciate your concern for my wellbeing.”

“Always. Your wellbeing is my prime
concern, Elizabeth.” His timbre dropped into a husky purr, and for a split
second, she thought he started to lower his head toward her. Then the moment
passed, and once again he was smiling serenely and gazing at the skyline as
they commenced walking. “I was pleased to hear Mr. Bennet mention your
propensity for a nightly stroll,” he resumed in a normal tone, “because it has,
for as long as my memory serves, been a habit of mine.”

“Truly?”

“Yes indeed. Depending on weather,
as you noted, or if we have guests, I make it a priority to exit the house
either immediately after dining or before retiring to my chambers. I will not
go so far as to say I cannot sleep if unable to do so, but it is close.”

They reached a low wall of mortared
bricks that separated the cultivated garden from the wild meadow beyond. The
elm-shrouded bench where Mr. Bingley and Jane sat was close enough to easily
see them through the shadowy leaves of tall trees and shrub hedges, but far
enough that distinct words could not be heard within the murmured voices.

Darcy continued to stare into the
star-dotted sky. Lizzy stopped some four feet to his right and studied his
relaxed posture and peaceful face while ostensibly admiring a flower picked
randomly from a nearby pot. After a minute in which he showed no sign of
speaking, Lizzy resumed the prior topic.

“Do you have a designated route to
your nightly walks, Mr. Darcy, or does spontaneity guide your feet?”

He released a low chuckle and
turned toward her. “I daresay the word
spontaneity
is not one you expect
to be attributed to me, am I correct?” He chuckled again when she shook her
head. “If in London, my choices are limited, as you will see eventually when I
show you our house on Grosvenor Square. Pemberley is another matter entirely,
the options myriad, as you might imagine having been there. The majority of my
strolls stay close to the house, starting on the terrace, drifting through the
numerous paths available, and not lasting a great length of time. I have,
however, been known to embark on longer treks, planned and unconsciously done.
The awareness of your pleasure in walking, day or night, is one of many traits
I am delighted to discover we have in common.”

Mr. Darcy had not moved during his
speech, nor had she. Yet somehow the personal nature of his words, the halcyon
atmosphere, and soothing resonance of his voice mingled to create an intimacy
as powerful as if they were inches apart. Clearly he felt it as well, although
instead of closing the gap and kissing her, as she desperately wanted him to
do, he stepped back. Mildly disappointed, Lizzy was relieved to note the
expression of peaceful happiness remained upon his face. Then, he perched upon
the wall’s narrow ledge, without glancing away from her face to check for
breeches-staining debris.

That startled her more than his
next question.

“I am curious as to why you have
yet to ask me what passed during my hour with your father. I know we have much
to learn about each other; however, past experience assures me that I could
have wagered a substantial amount that your inquisitiveness would override
reticence in this instance. In most instances, for that matter.”

“I am not sure if I am ready to
hear the secrets of manly conversation,” she hedged. “Discourse on the best
tobacco would merely bore me. Talk of politics or world events might begin an
argument if I disagreed with you—”

“As you most likely would, honestly
or with designs to test me,” Darcy interrupted with a laugh.

Lizzy laughed with him. “True, I
admit. And if the talk digressed to how best to gut a fish or skin a rabbit, I
might fulfill your previous prediction and faint at your feet, Mr. Darcy.”

Darcy pursed his lips, feigned
serious consideration, and then shook his head. “No, that I doubt as well.
Delicate and fragile you are, my Elizabeth, in all the feminine ways a man,
especially this one, appreciates. Missish and squeamish? While I have no
immediate plan to discuss animal gutting or skinning, I am not worried over an
adverse reaction if I did.”

He paused, still smiling and
wearing the unguarded, playful expression Lizzy was learning to adore, even as
it continued to amaze her. The eyes partially hidden in the dim light shone
with humor and emotion such as she never imagined from him. The combination
overwhelmed her senses.

“For the record, none of those
subjects came up tonight. We spoke primarily of you, and Miss Bennet, as I am
sure you suspect, and that is why I am curious as to your avoidance of the
topic. Frankly, I was anticipating an interrogation. Instead, you are
uncommonly taciturn.” He cocked his head and playfully furrowed his brows. “I
thought that was
my
failing and looked forward to being inspired by your
fluency, not the other way around.”

Lizzy stared at the flower in her
hands for a minute before finally inhaling, tossing it over the wall, and then
boldly meeting Darcy’s eyes. “Would it surprise you, Mr. Darcy, if I confessed
to being besieged by vacillating emotions all evening? Specifically nerves,
confusion, and moments of fear?”

His body stiffened and, although
still smiling, a sharp glint entered the eyes studying her face. Slowly he
nodded. “Yes, I am surprised. Especially under the circumstances. All of us
have our moments of lacking confidence or bravery. Nervousness I can readily
comprehend, since I was nearly overwhelmed with anxiety several times today.
For me this is not unusual, I am ashamed to admit. But you? Odd indeed. And
worrisome. Tell me why you would feel any of those emotions, dear Elizabeth.”

“It is your fault, if you must
know!” She spoke with more vigor than she intended, the combination of
irritation and absurdity in the situation imbuing her tone.

Darcy’s left brow lifted. “It is?”

“Yes! You are a difficult man to
read, Mr. Darcy, as I have tragically learned. Then, just as I begin to believe
I am deciphering the subtleties of your body language, facial expressions,
vocal tones, and the like, you change yet again! How am I to predict your
reaction to a situation when you are inconsistent?”

“Perhaps I could aid in solving
this serious dilemma if I had examples?”

Lizzy barreled on, completely
missing his teasing inflection. “You entered Longbourn tense and cold as stone,
yet fidgeting as you do when nervous. It frightened me near to death! I thought
you had changed your mind. Then,” she rushed on, not giving him a chance to
reply, “you seemed normal enough through dinner, even flirting a bit with Kitty—”

“I certainly was not flirt—”

“—and it was a relief to see
you comfortable with my family, but when my father all but forced an
indeterminate delay on our wedding, I expected you to be angry. Heaven knows I
was! Instead, you do not seem to care one way or another, staring at the stars
and making jokes. Jokes! And your face…”

Darcy grasped her hands and pulled
her toward him. Since he was still sitting on the low wall, they were eye
level. Between the sparkling gaiety visible as he stared at her, the rumbling
laughter passing through his lips, and the nearness of his body, Lizzy
stuttered to a halt.

“Life with you will never be
boring, that is for certain. And I mean that in the most wonderful way. What is
it about my face?”

The whispered words, along with the
rest, incited a deluge of tingles through her muscles. “I…I cannot place it in
words. It is more than your face. Your entire being is…relaxed.”

“I am happy, Elizabeth. You are
seeing the man, the true me, who is deeply in love with you and ecstatic beyond
words that you have agreed to share your life with me.” He pressed his lips to
each of her hands, the kisses barely brushing her skin yet sending jolts up
both arms. “I suppose it will be a typical pose when with you, so try to
adjust.”

The teasing tone was not lost to
her this time, although the second round of kisses, these a bit firmer, were
extremely distracting. “So…”—she cleared her throat—“why so tense
and cold when you arrived?”