Pride and Prejudice (The Wild and Wanton Edition) (43 page)

She almost jumped up when Mr. Darcy appeared again, but, looking at him, she was a little relieved by his smile. In a few minutes he approached the table where she was sitting with Kitty. Pretending to admire her work, he said in a whisper, “Go to your father, he wants you in the library.” She was gone directly.

Her father was walking about the room, looking grave and anxious. “Lizzy, what are you doing? Are you out of your senses, to be accepting this man? Have not you always hated him?”

Now was not the time to think of their walk or the fact she had not changed from her torn undergarments, so she pushed it out of her mind, instead concentrating on how to best explain what it was she really felt. How earnestly did she then wish that her former opinions had been more reasonable, her expressions more moderate. It would have spared her from explanations and professions which it was exceedingly awkward to give. But they were now necessary, and she assured him, with some confusion as to best how to speak, of her attachment to Mr. Darcy. “I promise you, I am very pleased with the match.”

“Or, in other words, you are determined to have him. He is rich, to be sure, and you may have more fine clothes and fine carriages than Jane. But will they make you happy?”

“Have you any other objection than your belief of my indifference?”

“None at all. We all know him to be a proud, unpleasant sort of man,” her father answered, studying her in his quiet manner, “but this would be nothing if you really liked him.”

“I do, I do like him,” she replied, with tears forming in her eyes. “I love him. Indeed he has no improper pride. He is perfectly amiable. You do not know what he really is, then pray do not pain me by speaking of him in such terms.”

“Lizzy,” said her father, “I have given him my consent. He is the kind of man, indeed, to whom I should never dare refuse anything, which he condescended to ask. I now give it to you, if you are resolved on having him. But let me advise you to think better of it. I know your disposition, Lizzy. I know that you could be neither happy nor respectable, unless you truly esteemed your husband, unless you looked up to him as a superior. Your lively talents would place you in the greatest danger in an unequal marriage. You could scarcely escape discredit and misery. My child, let me not have the grief of seeing you unable to respect your partner in life. You know not what you are about.”

Elizabeth was still more affected by the open admittance of her father on the state of his own marriage and wanting to save her from the same ridiculous fate. She was earnest and solemn in her reply. At length, by repeated assurances that Mr. Darcy was really the object of her choice, by explaining the gradual change which her estimation of him had undergone, relating her absolute certainty that his affection was not the work of a day, but had stood the test of many months suspense, and enumerating with energy all his good qualities, she did conquer her father’s incredulity, and reconcile him to the match.

“Well, my dear, it appears you are quite certain,” said he, when she ceased speaking, “I have no more to say.”

“But you might when I tell you the rest,” she said, and then told him what Mr. Darcy had voluntarily done for Lydia.

He heard her with astonishment.

“This is an evening of wonders, indeed! And so, Darcy did everything? He made up the match, gave the money, paid the fellow’s debts, and got him his commission? Had it been your uncle’s doing, I must and would have paid him in time. I shall offer to pay Mr. Darcy tomorrow.”

“No,” Elizabeth denied. “You must not. He did it as a gift to me, for his love. In fact, he did not wish for me to know what he had done. It was only Lydia’s impudence in accidently telling me that I learned of it at all.”

“Nevertheless, the offer should be made on my part,” said Mr. Bennet, but this time there was an ease to his words. “These violent young lovers carry everything their own way. Undoubtedly, Mr. Darcy will rant and storm about his love for you, and there will be an end of the matter. I will have offered and he, very obligingly, will decline that offer. It will all be settled quite nicely. I can see that you do love him, Lizzy. If this be the case, he deserves you. I could not have parted with you, my Lizzy, to anyone less worthy.”

He then recollected her embarrassment a few days before, on his reading Mr. Collins’s letter. After laughing at her some time, allowed her at last to go — saying, as she quitted the room, “If any young men come for Mary or Kitty, send them in, for I am quite at leisure.”

Elizabeth’s mind was now relieved from a very heavy weight. After a few minute’s quiet reflection in her own room, she was able to join the others with tolerable composure. She would not announce the news to her mother until they were alone, but she did let her love know the outcome with a slight smile in his direction. Bingley seemed to pick up on it as well, or perhaps he had detected his good friend’s happy mood, for he grinned as if on the point of yelling his congratulations to her as she entered. To his credit, he remained quiet. Everything was too recent for familial gaiety, and so the evening passed tranquilly away with the secret mostly intact. There was no longer anything material to be dreaded, and the comfort of ease and familiarity would come in time.

When her mother went up to her dressing room at night, she followed her, and made the important communication. Its effect was most extraordinary. For on first hearing it, Mrs. Bennet sat quite still, and unable to utter a syllable. Nor was it under many, many minutes that she could comprehend what she heard. She began at length to recover, to fidget about in her chair, get up, sit down again, wonder, and bless herself.

“Good gracious! Lord bless me! Only think, dear me, Mr. Darcy! Who would have thought it? And is it really true? Oh, my sweetest Lizzy! How rich and how great you will be. What pin-money, what jewels, what carriages you will have. Jane’s is nothing to it — nothing at all. I am so pleased — so happy. Such a charming man, so handsome, so tall. Oh, my dear Lizzy, pray apologize for my having disliked him so much before. I hope he will overlook it. Dear, dear Lizzy. A house in town — how delightful that will be for all of us! Everything that is charming! Three daughters married. Ten thousand a year. Oh, Lord, what will become of me? I shall become distracted.”

This was enough to prove that her approbation need not be doubted. Elizabeth, rejoicing that such an effusion was heard only by herself, soon went away. But before she had been three minutes in her own room, her mother followed her.

“My dearest child,” she cried, “I can think of nothing else. Ten thousand a year, and very likely more! ‘Tis as good as a Lord! And a special license. You must and shall be married by a special license. But my dearest love, tell me what dish Mr. Darcy is particularly fond of, that I may have it tomorrow.”

This was a sad omen of what her mother’s behavior to the gentleman himself might be. Elizabeth found that, though in the certain possession of his warmest affection, and secure of her relations’ consent, there was still something to be wished for. But the morrow passed off much better than she expected. Mrs. Bennet luckily stood in such awe of her intended son-in-law that she ventured not to speak to him, unless it was in her power to offer him any attention, or mark her deference for his opinion.

Elizabeth had the satisfaction of seeing her father taking pains to get acquainted with him, and Mr. Bennet soon assured her that he was rising every hour in his esteem.

“I admire all my three sons-in-law highly,” said he. “Wickham, perhaps, is my favorite for his acquaintance will prove the most diverting to me, but I think I shall like your husband quite as well as Jane’s.”

E
LIZABETH, with spirits soon rising to playfulness, wanted Mr. Darcy to account for his having ever fallen in love with her. They sat on the garden bench outside her home. He had come to visit and assure her that his affections had not changed, and that he would keep himself within proper distance relative to her family until the wedding vows were spoken. For, he had assured her, should he be given the opportunity of getting her alone, he would not hesitate to repeat the events of their glorious walk.

Elizabeth, though very eager to rejoin him in their passions, knew that the anticipation of the wedding night would have to feed her desires until she could have him again. Besides, with Kitty always watching them with wide eyes and eagerly listening for the slightest chance to follow them in their conversation, such alone time was impossible.

“How could you begin?” she continued. “I can comprehend your going on charmingly, when you had once made a beginning, but what could set you off in the first place?”

He gave her a mischievous look. “I cannot fix on the hour, or the spot, or the look, or the words, which laid the foundation. It is too long ago. I was in the middle before I knew that I had begun.”

“My beauty you had early withstood, and as for my manners — my behavior to you was at least always bordering on the uncivil, and I never spoke to you without rather wishing to give you pain than not. Now be sincere, did you admire me for my impertinence?”

“For the liveliness of your mind, I did.”

“You may as well call it impertinence. It was very little less. The fact is you were sick of civility, of deference, of officious attention. You were disgusted with the women who were always speaking, and looking, and thinking for your approbation alone. I roused, and interested you, because I was so unlike them. Had you not been really amiable, you would have hated me for it. But in spite of the pains you took to disguise yourself, your feelings were always noble and just, and in your heart you thoroughly despised the persons who so assiduously courted you. There — I have saved you the trouble of accounting for it. Really, all things considered, I begin to think it perfectly reasonable. In fact, I believe from this accounting I shall be persuaded to treat you dreadfully, and be impertinent to you at least once a fortnight or else you might get bored with me.” She tried to look serious, but could not keep the smile from her face as she teased him. “Yes, I think the only way to assure I have your love is to ensure that I am neither civil, nor deferential, nor giving of too much attention.”

“Bored with you?” He glanced around to assure they were not being spied upon, before reaching to touch her cheek. A small shiver stirred through her. What little ache there had been from losing her virginity paled with the memory of her release. Darcy’s eyes held a passionate storm in their depths and she knew he felt it too. “There is not a thing in you that could ever bore me. But, if it pleases you, treat me very atrociously. I am yours to abuse. Do with me what you wish.”

“To be sure, at the beginning you knew no actual good of me — but nobody thinks of that when they fall in love.”

“Was there no good in your affectionate behavior to Jane while she was ill at Netherfield?”

“Dearest Jane! Who could have done less for her? But make a virtue of it by all means. And, if that is the case, I guess I will be saved from having to mistreat you. It is a relief, for I do find I dearly like loving you.” With this, she licked her lips and offered her mouth to him. It only seemed natural that she do so.

He gave her a brief kiss before pulling back. “Your temptations are great indeed, my love. And I find there are too many good qualities in you, so I shall not worry about how our marriage will be. If you should dislike me in time, I will be in love for the both of us and will never allow myself to see it.”

“Then we will both be fools, for I think my love will blind me to your ever disliking me. We will be foolish and in love and will make everyone sick to look at how happy we are. Therefore, my good qualities are under your protection, and you are to exaggerate them as much as possible. In return, it belongs to me to find occasions for teasing and quarrelling with you as often as may be, and I shall begin directly by asking you what made you so unwilling to come to the point at last. What made you so shy of me, when you first called, and afterwards dined here? Why, especially, when you called, did you look as if you did not care about me?”

“Because you were grave and silent, and gave me no encouragement.”

“But I was embarrassed.”

“And so was I.”

“You might have talked to me more when you came to dinner.”

“A man who had felt less, might.”

“How unlucky that you should have a reasonable answer to give, and that I should be so reasonable as to admit it! But I wonder how long you would have gone on, if you had been left to yourself. I wonder when you would have spoken, if I had not asked you. My resolution of thanking you for your kindness to Lydia had certainly great effect. Too much, I am afraid,” she blushed, even as she wanted to kiss him again. The ache became great and she wished to ask him to touch her as he had, between the thighs, fingers rubbing, lips touching. She shivered, whispering, “I ought not to have mentioned the subject. This will never do.”

“You need not distress yourself about mentioning Lydia. The moral will be perfectly fair. Lady Catherine’s unjustifiable endeavors to separate us were the means of removing all my doubts. I am not indebted for my present happiness to your eager desire of expressing your gratitude. I was not in a humor to wait for any opening of yours. My aunt’s intelligence had given me hope, and I was determined at once to know everything.”

“I shall insert a quick thanks for purposefully misunderstanding that last comment,” said Elizabeth, before rushing to answer. “I agree, Lady Catherine has been of infinite use, which ought to make her happy, for she loves to be of use. But tell me, what did you come down to Netherfield for? Was it merely to ride to Longbourn and be embarrassed? Or had you intended any more serious consequence?”

“My real purpose was to see you, and to judge, if I could, whether I might ever hope to make you love me. My avowed one, or what I avowed to myself, was to see whether your sister was still partial to Bingley, and if she was, to make the confession to him which I have since made.”

“Shall you ever have courage to announce to Lady Catherine what is to befall her?”

“I am more likely to want more time than courage, sweet Elizabeth. But it ought to be done, and if you will give me a sheet of paper, it shall be done directly.”

“And if I had not a letter to write myself, I might sit by you and admire the evenness of your writing, as another young lady once did. But I have an aunt, too, who must not be longer neglected.”

However, despite their resolve, Elizabeth kissed him again. She moaned, coming to stand before him as he sat on the bench. His legs parted and she stood between them. Her hands rediscovered those parts that had captivated their interest before. And, when neither of them could stand the torment, they imprudently rushed from the house to come together in a small gathering of trees. It was neither a wise or good decision, but it could not be helped. Their bodies would not be denied, and so it was that Darcy pressed her against a trunk to keep her steady and lifted her legs to wrap his waist. A rip freed her sex, and he quickly found hold within her body. Thrusting and straining, they came to release. Elizabeth was confounded that the second time should so outshine the first in pleasure, and Darcy could scarcely believe his luck in finding a bride so willing to meet his every desire. He determined that as soon as they could be wed, he would teach all he knew of pleasing a woman.

After long minutes of catching their breath, she righted her clothing and prompted him to do the same. They walked inside to attend the business of their letters. Her cheeks were flush and she could not help glancing up at him. Before they went inside, she said, “I had a dream of you last night. It was delightfully wicked of my mind to torture me with it.”

He cleared his throat, but was unable to answer as she went inside. She knew it was wrong to tease him, but there was some pleasure in knowing he ached for her as she suffered for him. They sat down to write their letters.

From an unwillingness to confess how much her intimacy with Mr. Darcy while in Derbyshire had been over-rated, Elizabeth had never yet answered Mrs. Gardiner’s long letter. However now, having that to communicate which she knew would be most welcome, she was almost ashamed to find that her uncle and aunt had already lost three days of happiness, and immediately wrote, “I would have thanked you before, my dear aunt, as I ought to have done, for your long, kind, satisfactory, detail of particulars. To say the truth, I was too cross to write. You supposed more than really existed. But now suppose as much as you choose and give a loose rein to your fancy, and unless you believe me actually married, you cannot greatly err. You must write again very soon, and praise him a great deal more than you did in your last. I thank you, again and again, for not going to the Lakes. Your idea of the ponies is delightful. We will go round the Park every day. I am the happiest creature in the world. Perhaps other people have said so before, but not one with such justice. I am happier even than Jane. She only smiles. I laugh. Mr. Darcy sends you all the love in the world that he can spare from me. You are all to come to Pemberley at Christmas. Yours, Elizabeth.”

Mr. Darcy’s letter to Lady Catherine was in a different style.

Still different from either was what Mr. Bennet sent to Mr. Collins, in reply to his last letter, “Dear Sir, I must trouble you once more for congratulations. Elizabeth will soon be the wife of Mr. Darcy. Console Lady Catherine as well as you can. But, if I were you, I would stand by the nephew. He has more to give.”

Miss Bingley’s congratulations to her brother, on his approaching marriage, were all that was affectionate and insincere. She wrote even to Jane on the occasion, to express her delight, and repeat all her former professions of regard. Jane was not deceived, but she was affected. Though feeling no reliance on her, could not help writing her a much kinder answer than she knew was deserved.

The joy which Miss Darcy expressed on receiving similar information was as sincere as her brother’s in sending it. Four sides of paper were insufficient to contain all her delight, and all her earnest desire of being loved by her sister.

Before any answer could arrive from Mr. Collins, or any congratulations to Elizabeth from his wife, the Longbourn family heard that the Collinses were come themselves to Lucas Lodge. The reason of this sudden removal was soon evident. Lady Catherine had been rendered so exceedingly angry by the contents of her nephew’s letter, that Charlotte, really rejoicing in the match, was anxious to get away till the storm was blown over. At such a moment, the arrival of her friend was a sincere pleasure to Elizabeth, though in the course of their meetings she must sometimes think the pleasure dearly bought, when she saw Mr. Darcy exposed to all the parading and obsequious civility of her husband. He bore it, however, with admirable calmness.

Mrs. Philips’s vulgarity was another, and perhaps a greater, tax on his forbearance. Though Mrs. Philips, as well as her sister, stood in too much awe of him to speak with the familiarity which Bingley’s good humor encouraged, whenever she did speak, she must be vulgar. Nor was her respect for him, though it made her quieter, at all likely to make her more elegant. Elizabeth did all she could to shield him from the frequent notice of either, and was ever anxious to keep him to herself. Although the uncomfortable feelings arising from all this took from the season of courtship much of its pleasure, it added to the hope of the future. When they could not be alone, she tried to ensure they were around those of her family with whom he might converse without mortification.

She looked forward with delight to the time when they should be removed from society so little pleasing to either, to all the comfort and elegance of their family party at Pemberley. For, it was only when they were alone that she could truly relax, and explore the full depth of her feelings which were not allowed to show themselves when others were in attendance. She kissed him often, thought of him always, and could barely wait to again explore the passion that had unfolded those brilliant days outside Longbourn.