Longbourn to London (2 page)

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Authors: Linda Beutler

BOOK: Longbourn to London
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She did not.

Her refusal was particularly illuminating in its minute delineation of his character flaws. He departed in anger, of course, but was also alarmed at the resonance of truth in her description, and it was this shock that lead Darcy to appreciate Elizabeth all the more. He came to own the veracity of her assessment and sought redemption even without hope of ever seeing her again.

When Darcy and Elizabeth did later meet, quite by chance, he was a changed man. She was a changed woman, too, thanks to a letter he had written defending his actions— if not his character—in matters about which he felt Elizabeth had misjudged him for want of true information. The letter tacitly invited Elizabeth to question her perceptions. As she believed her first impressions of people to be rarely incomplete and never wrong, it was an exercise she had not previously undertaken.

That Elizabeth and Darcy accepted love and abandoned hate brings us to the tale of their six-week engagement and the earliest days of their honeymoon, which to some may appear uneventful. These weeks were, in fact, full of countless small adjustments to their understanding of each other, as well as the deepening of regard necessary to convince a maiden that living with a gentleman might have more advantages than one initially assumed. The time also served to further convince a man who has lived in the world— and one who admittedly needed little further encouragement for his passion—that an unconventionally educated country miss with good principles and ready humour would make a worthy partner in
every
particular.

As we begin, Darcy and Elizabeth had been engaged less than a week, and the larger world was only just realising that a handsome man of great consequence—one of the most coveted bachelors of his day—was marrying for the love of a young lady with teasing charm and a pleasingly healthy figure. Their immediate families— his, small with just a younger sister, and hers, large and mainly female—had given their blessings, extended families and friends had been written to, and the neighbourhood of Meryton was awakening to the approach of an event of great significance: the double wedding ceremony of the two eldest Bennet sisters.

In the first days, Darcy and Elizabeth attempted to explain to each other the various turns of their minds as they grew towards a mutual regard, but many more particulars of growing affection awaited revelation. In private moments, the previously guarded Darcy offered love to Elizabeth with every breath; now that she had accepted him, he need not hold back. Elizabeth’s expressive eyes looked upon him with thrilling admiration, although her words were often as impertinent as ever. Darcy was not surprised.

Chapter 1

The First Kiss (or Two)

“I wish my horse had the speed of your tongue.”
William Shakespeare
Much Ado about Nothing

Fitzwilliam Darcy, as he had anticipated, was able to intercept Elizabeth Bennet’s early morning walk as he rode on horseback. It was the fifth day of their engagement. He knew she was fond of walking the countryside from the earliest days of their acquaintance, and, in April, his estimation of her had increased as he encountered her morning rambles through Rosings Park. It was outside his country home, Pemberley, on the west sloping lawn, that their paths miraculously crossed in July. His second proposal, the one she
had
accepted, happened along a lane less than a mile from her home. At just this moment, they were mere steps from that sacred spot.

The fact that Elizabeth had rarely bid him more than a nod as she passed him at Rosings Park, and said little when he tried to engage her in conversation, should have been an indication—and would have been to a less proud man—that his attentions were not welcome. The man he was then could not apprehend that
any
woman he deigned to notice would not regard him positively, let alone might despise him. Reflecting, as he often did, upon the errant proposal—when all his words were ill chosen and the entire effort ill starred—he now saw it had the added disadvantage of being delivered in a sitting room rather than in the open air.

How much had changed! Now when Elizabeth saw him on the paths, she ran to reach him, her cheeks flushed and her eyes brightened. Such welcoming delighted him and left no doubt of her affection. If she had not already removed her gloves, she did so when they met. They walked holding hands, or with her hand clasped to his elbow as he stroked it fondly. If he traced circles on her palm, she would watch with rapt attention. He was keenly aware that the sensations he was producing caused her pulse to race.

If their conversation turned lively and amusing, as was often the case, Elizabeth would embrace his arm, sometimes quite fervently, and her bosom would brush against him. She was unaware of it, and he found this inflaming and a happy portent of a demonstrative nature—something he intended to test further on this day by attempting a first kiss.

Just the day before, as Jane Bennet was in the Netherfield front hall awaiting the carriage after touring the house and taking tea with Miss Caroline Bingley, Charles’s mordant younger sister, Darcy spied Jane and Bingley in a secret embrace and kiss. If Miss Bennet, sedate and serene Jane, could be moved to respond to Bingley’s attentions, how would his more energetic Elizabeth respond? Although Darcy would not advocate for the anticipation of their wedding vows—his sense of honour and concern for her comfort would not condone it—he did mean, in as subtle yet thorough a manner as possible, to indicate he would welcome her responses to his ardour. He had no desire for a wife to “just lie there.”

Darcy was appalled at the men of his club who spoke meanly of their wives. These were men who had not married for love and did not appear to want it to develop. Their wives were merely receptacles for their seed to produce heirs. These men went to the added expense of keeping mistresses if their bent ran to fornication. Darcy felt sorry for them and sorrier still for their wives. It seemed a ridiculous business to marry a woman one did not care for and then to bear the added cost—often considerable— of maintaining another woman whose honour would no longer be respected and often could not be trusted. Darcy dreamt of Elizabeth behaving as a mistress while actually his wife; in fact, he dreamt of it more and more often. It was his belief that such a felicitous circumstance was not only possible but also entirely likely. Her every look and gesture assured him that, with his loving and patient guidance, his private wishes would become hers, too.

Does she know Jane and Bingley have progressed to kissing? How deep is their sisterly confidence?
Thus were Darcy’s thoughts employed as Elizabeth repeated the list of invitations starting to arrive at Longbourn as a result of the announcement of their betrothal.

After a few moments, Darcy realised Elizabeth had grown silent and he had not heard a word she said.

“How will you bear it, sir, the scrutiny of Meryton society from now until the wedding?”

Darcy shook his head to clear it. “I am sorry, Elizabeth. I have not been attending you.” He stopped and turned to her.

She released his arm. Her eyes flickered to his and then away. “I pray, sir, will you tell me what you
were
attending? You seemed miles away.”

He remained silent until her eyes drew back to his. “No, Elizabeth, I am not miles away. I am here.”

He saw her eyes widen but not from fear. He understood her quizzical response well enough. With a crook’d finger he raised her chin, thankful the brim of her bonnet was shallow.
In the days to come,
I shall remove our hats when we kiss.
Her lips looked moist, and Darcy felt his mouth go dry, but he drew closer. She closed her eyes, her thick lashes brushing her cheeks. His lips met hers squarely, his mouth closed at first, and then his lips parted. He longed to taste her but stopped himself. He pressed harder instead. Her lips separated. She pressed his, too, following his lead. After a gentle moment, Darcy started to pull back, but Elizabeth’s lips pursued him, unwilling to break the connection. His hand under her chin slipped to the corner of her jaw then held the back of her neck, his fingers entwining in escaped tendrils on her nape. He tilted her head without making a conscious decision as his tongue lightly touched the delicate mid-point of her upper lip and withdrew. Her lips parted further as she drew in a gasping breath, and to his pleased surprise, her tongue touched his lip. Darcy exhaled and pulled away.

Elizabeth’s eyes were full of dancing light. She blushed and murmured, “I hope that pleased you, Mr. Darcy.”

He kissed her rosy cheek. “You seem to have a natural gift, assuming it
was
your first kiss.”

“Yes, sir, it was!” she protested as her blush deepened. “Mr. Darcy, are
you
teasing
me
?”

“I am.” He kissed her nose. “Was it everything a maiden might wish it to be?”

“Certainly the company was as I have hoped— as to the rest, modesty forbids I reply.”

“Surely you know
I
do not forbid it, and other than your dear self, who is there to hear?”

She had not withdrawn or stepped away from his touch and his hand still caressed her neck. “If you were to absolutely insist, I would not resist you in any way should you attempt such a liberty again.”

He smiled slightly and leaned his forehead against hers. “Elizabeth.”

“Fitzwilliam.” She said his given name for the first time.

“Dearest Elizabeth.”

“Dearest Fitzwilliam.”

He pursued his fondest impulse, and enjoyed her lips again. They were already parted, ready to respond to any new stimulation. He found himself sucking her plump lower lip into his mouth, tasting it fully. Elizabeth gasped faintly but he persisted.

Elizabeth had been aware of his reluctance to kiss her these last five days despite several opportunities. She felt light with relief that he was finally kissing her, and she savoured the moment.
Oh goodness!
Was anything ever more heavenly?
Her breathing grew rapid, and she dared to lean towards him as his thumbs stroked her earlobes. She was lost in appreciation of the strong sensations previously unknown to her when suddenly her awareness was drawn to how easily she might be seduced by her feelings. Slowly she began to back away, and Darcy gently released her lip.

Their eyes opened and they smiled.

“I am in some danger from you, Fitzwilliam Darcy,” Elizabeth said, her eyes laughing.

“Surely not, Miss Bennet, surely not. I would not have you fear for your virtue.”

Instantly serious, she whispered, “I do not fear for my virtue, Fitzwilliam. I trust you with that. The danger is to my soul.” She caught his sleeves, resting her cheek on his lapel, and felt him draw in a deep breath.

“Your virtue, your love, and even your soul, I hope, will all be safe with me. Now that you have consented to be my wife, it is my duty to protect you, and all that is yours. Your soul is your own, Elizabeth, but I shall guard it.”

She smiled against his coat.
Now that he has let down his guard, he says the most astonishing things. How am I to remember them all?

Darcy put his hands around her back and held her. Elizabeth turned her head and looked at his hat, wishing she knew what was allowed. She longed to run her hands through his hair. As she pondered what latitude she might have, the corner of her lower lip was caught by her upper teeth.

This habitual pose of her lips when she was concentrating or trying not to smile had long been a pressing source of temptation to Darcy. He surrendered to the desire that beset him from nearly their first meeting and placed his lips on hers, teasing her lower lip free with his tongue, then their mouths met properly for further exploration.

“Oh!” Elizabeth seemed disappointed when he released her.

Darcy gazed into her dark eyes and smiled, indicating he read her response to this escalation of their intimacy quite clearly. He knew very well that he had left her wanting more. He was profoundly happy with his restraint and her responses. She would follow where he would lead. All had gone extremely well.

Elizabeth took his hand, and they started to walk. “I must admit, Fitzwilliam, I had begun to wonder why you had not sought my favours before now.”

“You must acknowledge that, given past responses to requests for your affection, I would wait until I could be more certain of your…agreement.”

“Oh, dear. Did my ill-mannered behaviour at Hunsford make you timid?”

“Shall I tell you what resolved me to act today?” His tone was decidedly conspiratorial.

“Please do!” She sounded intrigued as she embraced his arm.

“I should not tell you this, but I spied your sister and Bingley in a rather ardent embrace yesterday while she was waiting to depart after taking tea with Miss Bingley.”

“You are
certain
it was
my
sister?” She laughed. “Bingley has the advantage of us, I suppose. They have been engaged at least ten days longer than we.”

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