His Uncle's Favorite (39 page)

And the kiss—the real kiss—was her desire as much as his. He had allowed her the liberty to decide—and she did. He smiled with tenderness at her obvious lack of experience while his heart paced wildly at the remembered soft taste of her lips.

He startled violently when a servant insistently called his name, bringing him back from his thoughts. He was expected downstairs for breakfast. Yes, it was breakfast time; he should have known that.

As he apologised for the delay and took his seat at the table, he glanced at Elizabeth; she was speaking with her aunt, but his eyes made her turn towards him, flustered.

He was suddenly aware of a dilemma: should he wait until they returned to Hertfordshire to speak to Mr. Bennet or should he write him immediately? In any case, it was imperiously necessary that he clarify with Elizabeth the nature of their understanding just to be certain there were no misunderstandings remaining. Moreover, he absolutely must call her
Elizabeth—
at least when they were not in company.

***

“So—are you ready?” Lord Matlock inquired impatiently. “The horses are waiting.”The party was prepared for the ride, planned the previous day. While the others were eager to spend time outdoors, Georgiana seemed worried as she approached Elizabeth.

“You know, I think I should stay with you. After all, I am riding Duke, and I surely do not need to become accustomed to him.

Elizabeth gently took her hands and laughed. “I shall be forever grateful for your care, my dear friend, but you must not worry for me, truly. I have already rejected Jane’s offer, and I would feel guilty if you cannot enjoy your ride because of me.”

“But it is such a lovely day! Perhaps I should ask uncle to prepare a carriage.”

“I know it is a beautiful day; I had a wonderfully long walk earlier. In fact, I am a bit fatigued; I think I will rest a little while you are out.”

“My dear, we should go,” Mr. Darcy said, smiling at them. “I would suggest that Miss Bennet rest a little while we are gone,” he added, and both ladies laughed.

“Elizabeth just told me she wished to rest a little.” Georgiana explained their amusement.

“I see… Well, it pleases me to see that Miss Bennet and I share the same thoughts,” he replied, looking pointedly at Elizabeth.

“I thank you both for your care.” Elizabeth smiled. “Please enjoy your time; I shall see you again soon,” she added as the Darcys reluctantly left the house.

Elizabeth followed them with her eyes then hurried to her room. She opened the window and hid herself by the curtain as she looked with great interest at the departing group, attempting to recognise each person. Even from a distance, it was not difficult to recognise Mr. Darcy and Thunder, just as it was not difficult to recognise Lady Sinclair, riding impetuously near him.

Elizabeth had to admit to herself that jealousy—even when unjustified and unreasonable—was a disturbing feeling.

She stood at the window, gazing after them for a while until they became small, restless points moving across the fields; she was soon nestled in her bed under the covers. She knew she should be happy, relieved, trustful and grateful for everything that unexpectedly happened that morning, but she was still not convinced it was real.

Her fears, wonderings, questions and doubts were at an end. He opened his heart to her—again—and offered her hope, answers, and certainties. He admitted his errors and took all the blame upon himself; he was generous in vanquishing her guilt, and she enjoyed receiving his generosity though she knew she did not deserve it.

Her heart melted as she remembered how easily her words brought joy to his handsome face. She was no longer afraid to admit to herself what she began to understand but feared to hope for so long: he was exactly the man who, in disposition and talents, would most suit her. His understanding and temper, though unlike her own, would answer all her wishes, and from his judgement, information, and knowledge of the world, she would receive a benefit of great importance. It would be a union that—she hoped—would be to the advantage of both. She knew he needed little to complete his character, and she had little to offer him except her feelings, but perhaps—yes, perhaps—her ease and liveliness would soften his mind and improve his manners.

In the solitude of her bed, she smiled, recollecting the way his manners towards her had improved since they first met—well, perhaps not improved but certainly softened.

Slowly, her mind returned to their early meeting: every word, every glance, and every touch. She recalled his fingers entwining with hers, his arms holding her tightly, his warmth, his strength, the intoxicating feeling of his lips on hers, his voice and his gaze—the feeling of having a bond between them…and the chill as he left.

She briefly considered that she was exhausted and needed to sleep a little before she spent time with the children. It took only an instant for her to fall into a deep asleep.

Elizabeth did not wake until a din of voices from the yard invaded her room through the open window. The party had returned from riding, and she was still in bed!

As if she were late for an important meeting, she hurriedly changed her clothes and put up her hair as well as she could. It was quite late in the afternoon—or so she thought.

She expected the others to be in the drawing room, but there it was all silence. She met a young maid who smiled, greeted her politely, and then informed her that the guests had retired to their rooms and she expected them down in an hour’s time for tea and refreshments. The children, the maid said, were in their apartments, sleeping.

An hour—of course, what was she thinking? Surely, everyone needed to rest and change from their riding clothes! She felt slightly embarrassed by her childish eagerness as she thanked the maid. She had an hour to wait and needed to find a way to employ her time.

She briefly considered returning to her room but abandoned the idea and walked towards the library instead. She would find something to read.

Even before she opened the heavy door, curiosity began to war with her better judgement. The temptation to take another look—closer and more attentive—at the pictures of Mr. Wickham was compelling.

She entered the large room and walked slowly along the walls, glancing at the impressive shelves, then stopped in front of the small paintings, studying them with great interest.

“Miss Bennet?”

She startled so violently that she needed a moment before she finally turned and lifted her eyes to meet Darcy’s inquiring ones. He smiled, obviously pleased to see her.

“Forgive me—did I frighten you? I just came from the drawing room—a maid told me you might be here—and to be honest I hoped I could speak to you privately a moment.”

“I was in the drawing room a few minutes ago, and I was told everybody was upstairs resting. You did not frighten me; I was just surprised. Did you have a pleasant ride?”

She tried to smile while she felt her heart beating wildly. He took her hand and invited her to sit on the couch.

“Not particularly pleasant… I mean, it was an ordinary ride. I confess I prefer riding in much smaller company.”

She laughed. “You are not fond of large parties, I have noticed.”

“No, not fond, indeed…”

“I hope Georgiana had a pleasant time.”

“She did.” He hesitated and averted his eyes from her for a moment then looked at her again. “I hope you do not mind; I took the liberty of telling her…about our discussion…”

She blushed but held his gaze. He appeared uncomfortable and worried.

“I do not mind, but pray tell me—what did you tell her?”

“I told her that we talked and that I have your permission to court you…”

“I see…and what did she say?”

He hesitated again, and she noticed he fought to cover a smile.

“She said, ‘Surely you are joking!’”

Elizabeth looked at him in complete puzzlement. She did not expect such a reaction.

“Why would she say that? Why did she believe you were joking?”

“Well, I asked her the same, and she replied, ‘You just began to court her? But I believed you were courting Elizabeth in London! I hope you are telling me that you finally came to an arrangement!’
I confess I never saw my sister so disappointed.”

Elizabeth laughed, her face burning. He still held her hands.

“I am sorry to be the reason for Georgiana’s disappointment.”

“No indeed—she was disappointed with
me
—and rightfully so. It made me think…”

His countenance changed again, and he tightened the hold on her hand.

“All these hours I thought of what I said earlier today, and I wondered… As the recent past has proved, there are times when I express myself rather ambiguously,” he said, mocking himself. “So…I shall keep my word not to rush you, but I must ask…was it beyond any doubt that I intend to ask for your hand in marriage? You may take all the time you need to be certain, but…”

He was completely distressed again, his fingers unconsciously caressing hers while his voice, grave and deep, was overwhelmed with emotion. She felt grateful that she was sitting, or else her knees certainly would have betrayed her.

“I confess I had some suspicions about your intention, but as the recent past has proved to us, I am not very perceptive, and I dare not make any assumptions…so—no, your intention was not beyond any doubt…” She hoped he noticed that she was joking.

“I see… Then please let me try to rectify my fault, Miss Bennet.” His serious, preoccupied gaze captured her eyes, and she could see his expression softening with her every word. He rose from the couch, and she mirrored his move. Slowly, he lifted their joined hands to his heart and spoke, his emotions hardly bearable.

“In vain have I struggled. It will not do. My feelings will not be repressed. You must allow me to tell you how ardently I admire and love you.”

She instantly recognised the words, but his voice, his expression, his eyes caressing her face, his hands tenderly holding hers, his lips forcing a smile—everything was so new that the meaning of his declaration became utterly, frightfully different.

She said nothing, so he continued.

“I know I have said these words before, but I need to repeat them because only now do I understand them in depth. I did love and admire you in January, but my love was defeated by my selfish desire—the desire to have you—because I was aware that I could have no peace or tranquillity or joy without you. I thought of little else than how I could have you for myself, and it never occurred to me that I might not have my own way. I believed you to be wishing, expecting my addresses. I came to you without a doubt of my reception, and you taught me the hardest and most useful lesson of my life. You showed me how insufficient were all my pretensions to please a woman worthy of being pleased.”

Her strength had long betrayed her, and she was certain she would not be able to contain her tears any longer. She wished him to speak more, to wipe away all the painful memories of that day, to confess to him her own fears and self-reproach, but for the moment she could bear no more. She freed her hand from his tight grip and pressed her fingers against his lips to silence him. His lips, half opened, brushed warmly against her trembling fingers. He paused.

“Mr. Darcy… There are so many things that need to be said between us that a whole day would not suffice. We might be interrupted any moment, so I shall not quarrel with you for the greater share of blame annexed to that day. The conduct of neither, if strictly examined, would be irreproachable; even more, there were other reasons that contributed to our misunderstanding. Perhaps we should delay this discussion for another time. I confess I am still not completely certain of your intention…whether you proposed to me or not…”

The emotion made it difficult for her to speak, and her attempt to dissipate her anxiety with a light tone met with little success. He struggled to continue, but she still held her fingers to his lips, so Elizabeth was the one who spoke further.

“However, there is something that needs to be said this instant. I do feel that the words you just repeated to me were the same yet so different, as I do feel that your…affection for me has changed. I can see it in every glance, every gesture, every word. I could see it long ago when you kindly offered me your trust, though I had so abominably abused you. I could see it in your generous support for my father and—”

He gently captured her hand again to release his lips, which daringly hurried to silence her. She gasped in surprise, but a moment later, she forgot everything she wished to say. His hands abandoned hers and wrapped her in a breathtaking embrace; her own hands tentatively slid around his waist in search of his warmth and his tender support. Her lips shyly tried to learn how to respond to his kiss as her heart beat wildly.

As unexpectedly as it began, Darcy withdrew from her but kept her in his embrace. He gently walked her back to the settee, took her hands again then slowly knelt by her, his face only a few inches from hers, and spoke clearly and simply.

“Miss Elizabeth Bennet, would you do me the honour of marrying me? There is no need to answer me now; you may take all the time you wish—”

“Mr. Darcy?” Her voice interrupted him, serious and determined.