The Last Waltz: . . . another pride and prejudice journey of love (12 page)

As she stood enveloped in his arms, Darcy looked out into the star-strewn sky. If it was within his province, he would remain with her on this balcony, in their own perfect little world; a world where love was honoured and did not bring pain, and where people were judged, not by their imperfections, but only by the goodness in their hearts.

But such a world did not exist on the other side of the balcony doors.

They stood there motionless, embracing in the dark until Darcy drew back and tilted her chin up towards him. Again his eyes were focused on her mouth, and his thumb lightly traced over her bottom lip as if contemplating another kiss. But he resisted the temptation. “Then I shall not apologize. For in truth, I regret nothing of our time together. I do not believe I shall ever forget you, Miss Bennet.”

“Nor I you,” she replied, her voice shaky with emotion.

The look that passed between them was powerful, yet tinged with the sadness of their fate. Elizabeth endeavoured to smile at him, but her eyes were glossy with tears.

“I’m afraid our set it over,” he said, the meaning of his words far more profound than he had intended. He released her and immediately felt bereft of the warm comfort of her body.

“I have already made my goodbyes to the Bingleys as I plan to leave for London at first light. I’d best go up and try to get a few hours rest. I wish you a goodnight, Miss Bennet, and much happiness in your future.”

He took her hand and kissed the back of it with just a light brush of his lips. And then he was gone.

Elizabeth inhaled the night air as she tried to gauge her emotions. Even though tears were threatening, she would not cry. A man as wonderful as Mr. Darcy had desired her and would remember her always. She left the balcony with a bittersweet smile on her face that made her look quite enchanting, and one could actually discern a slight spring in her step.

Moments later the balcony doors opened once again as Charlotte and Mr. Collins went in search of Elizabeth.

“Are you sure this is the balcony where you left her?”

“I believe so. But they all look quite alike, Miss Lucas.”

“Elizabeth, are you out here?” called her friend.

As they stepped onto the balcony, the clergyman did not notice the small stair, causing the man to trip. His arms flailed, desperately trying to latch onto anything that might help break his fall. Unfortunately, what he eventually grabbed was Miss Lucas’s bodice, tearing it quite thoroughly, exposing her corset and a good deal of the pearly white skin that peeked above it.

As he apologized profusely, he tried clumsily to help her shield her small but firm uncovered breasts, but he only made matters worse, as his frantic pawing was only further ripping her bodice. Again another unfortunate circumstance presented itself when the next moment Mr. Bennet opened the balcony doors. His wife was not far behind him.

“Mr. Collins! Just what are you doing, sir? Unhand her at once!”

Upon approaching the balcony, Mrs. Bennet rushed towards her husband and upon hearing his admonishments, was beside herself with joy! Of course, Mr. Bennet would insist upon an immediate betrothal. Yes, it had all worked out just as she had planned; Mr. Collins
must
marry Lizzy now!

When Mrs. Bennet reached her husband and peered around him, she was shocked as she witnessed the wide-eyed expression on Mr. Collins’s face and saw exactly whose breasts his hands were attempting to shield.

“Charlotte!!”

CHAPTER
SEVENTEEN

Darcy rose well before the sun. The house was eerily quiet as he made his way downstairs. He did not wish to disturb the household and sought only a footman’s assistance in removing his trunk and calling for his carriage.

As he waited for these tasks to be completed, he quickly scribed a note to Bingley, leaving it on the breakfast table. He then looked inside the ballroom that only a few hours before had been filled to capacity. He walked across the wide expanse of floor, the sound of his booted footfalls echoing in the now empty room. When he reached the balcony doors, he hesitated before opening them, almost as if he half expected her to still be there, waiting for him.

Approaching the balustrade, he imagined he could still detect the smell of jasmine that lingered. Ending their kiss and leaving her embrace had been the hardest thing he had ever done, for she was just as responsive to his touch as he had allowed himself to dream. But despite his desire for her, he would not exploit the situation. She deserved far better than that.

As he stood there recalling their final moments together, he was mystified at the feelings she had aroused in him, her sweet lips silently beckoning his until their mouths had inevitably met in a most stirring kiss.
Sweet Lizzy
. Her innocent willingness had been an aphrodisiac almost daring him to discover to what heights their passion might soar. In that moment, he could sense her newfound confidence emerging, as she did not remain passive but moved her hands lightly over his chest before reaching up to secure her arms around his neck, pressing the heat of her body against his. How he had welcomed her touch, embraced her warmth. It was as if they both knew that it would be their one and only chance to forge a lasting memory; both of them willing, both of them wanting to make it most exquisite.

And it was.

Admittedly he would have liked nothing better than to have continued their intimacy. Fortunately, he had returned to his senses before anything too untoward had occurred.

But if his attentions to her over the last few weeks had truly improved her confidence, he would leave Hertfordshire content in that knowledge.

The fact that the ingratiating, grovelling Mr. Collins would benefit from his efforts was disturbing, to say the least, but that was a circumstance over which he had no control. Elizabeth must follow her own counsel in such matters, though he did not believe for a moment that she favoured the clergyman’s attentions.

Certainly there must be some other young man of her society worthy of her affections, though he did not want to imagine her bestowing her kisses upon anyone else. His abhorrence at that thought convinced him it unwise to examine his feelings for her too closely. All of London, including his family, was expecting him to choose the perfect wife, and Elizabeth Bennet just did not fit into the mold that society had fashioned for him.

It might be best if he broke with Bingley for a while, for he did not think he could bear to hear of Elizabeth’s betrothal and marriage to Mr. Collins, and Bingley would surely inform him of these events. He needed to put time and distance between himself and those occasions in Hertfordshire that now seemed to burden his heart.

Although he had made no promises to Miss Marston, he knew she was expecting the renewal of his attentions, and he was now decided that he would allow her charms every opportunity to arouse his passion.

********

Charlotte Lucas sat at the dinner table and eyed the man seated across from her, the man who was now her betrothed. Their engagement had been expediently determined and just as quickly accepted by all parties concerned.

At eight and twenty, Charlotte knew she was already considered on the shelf, and before the events that had taken place on the balcony of the Netherfield ball, all indications had pointed to her remaining there indefinitely.

She was well aware that her looks, which could be described as neither handsome nor abhorrent, were not the sort that attracted most young men. Her face was quite plain, and her figure lacked fullness, where fullness was appreciated. One could easily scan a room and overlook her.

But if Charlotte Lucas was anything, she was practical. As she heard the clergyman expound on his modest but very comfortable accommodations at the parsonage at Hunsford and his exalted position in the church, due, of course, to the generous patronage of Lady Catherine de Bourgh, she knew she could have done far worse.

He was by no means her ideal candidate for a husband, but with a reputation teetering on ruin and spinsterhood her only alternative, her opinion of the man was far less severe than under normal circumstances.

She listened to her father’s and Mr. Collins’s discourse, each one pointing out their superior connections and the privileges they enjoyed.

As she was struck with the similarity of their conversation, she could not help but wonder if life at Hunsford would be that much different than her life had been at Lucas Lodge? Of course, there was the one exception of the marriage bed to consider.

As Mr. Collins described his fortuitous life, he would pause and turn towards her as if seeking her approval and praise; she did not disappoint him.

“And I dine at Rosings Park twice every week and am never allowed to walk home.”

“How very generous of Lady Catherine,” replied a dutiful Charlotte.

“Yes, indeed it is. Her ladyship’s carriage, or should I say, one of her ladyship’s carriages, for she has several, is ordered regularly for my use.”

Again he turned towards her and awaited her much anticipated and expected declarations of amazement at such benevolence.

“To be treated with such affability, is indeed an honour, sir,” responded Charlotte with a demure smile as she mentally kicked herself for praising such condescension.

Charlotte knew she had little choice but to resign herself to life at Hunsford and resolved that sharing the marriage bed with Mr. Collins was something she would do her best to avoid when at all possible. Her hope was that she would quickly be with child so that she might soon quit the marriage bed entirely. Yes, she decided, all things considered, she should get on quite well.

********

As Darcy’s carriage drew nearer and nearer to London, his thoughts had become more and more distracted. He spent a good deal of his journey convincing himself that his interest in Elizabeth Bennet had been nothing beyond mere curiosity. Admittedly, added to that curiosity had been more than a fair amount of desire, a desire that he was determined not to act upon. Such was her affect upon him, that he knew removing his presence from Netherfield was the only way in which he could ensure that Mr. Bennet’s trust in him would not be violated.

He had tried to sleep to unburden his mind, but it eluded him as each mile that he travelled was a constant reminder of what he would soon be missing: her exceptional mind, her spirit which he saw slowly reemerging each time he was in her company, and her beguiling loveliness. It was as if she were completely unaware of her appeal, her focus only on her imperfection.

He let her remembrances of what had occurred the night of her accident drift through his thoughts, and he could easily picture the events in his mind. Despite her vague descriptions, he vividly conjured up the horrible scene in his imagination.

His discovery of the remnants of that night, the scars she had tried to hide from his view, sprang to his memory. How he had wished he could erase all she had suffered. He had wanted to tell her that her scars were not abhorrent to him, but rather a testament to her strength and courage.

When he thought about the despicable excuse for a man who had left her and Jane on the street, injured and alone, he felt his anger grow. He wanted to make the man suffer as much as they had, as much as Elizabeth had suffered for years beyond that night.

Were he ever to discover the identity of the bastard who had caused Elizabeth such an ordeal, he would make him pay dearly for every pain she had borne, for every tear she had shed, because of that night.

To think that only a few days before that event, she had charmed him so thoroughly, despite his grief at the loss of his father. The overwhelming apprehension he had felt regarding his new role as Master of Pemberley and his new responsibility to his sister, as her guardian and protector, had not seemed as daunting when she looked up at him with such innocent admiration. For a few precious moments, the young and spirited Miss Elizabeth Bennet had made him believe that he was capable of anything. He wanted to be deserving of the esteem he had seen reflected in her candid eyes.

Their short meeting in that church in London over five years ago had made a difference in his life. He believed he now had repaid that debt to her by helping her overcome her insecurities and making her aware of just how desirable a woman she was.

He hoped that her newfound confidence would sway her decision regarding a marriage to that obsequious clergyman and that someday she would be loved by someone who was worthy of her and capable of giving her his whole heart.

But as far as he was concerned, despite his regard and his desire for her, he wanted nothing better than to be as far away from her as possible. He suspected that if there was any woman in the world who could make him alter his opinion about love, it was Elizabeth Bennet. The threat of opening his heart to someone was reason enough for his departure from Hertfordshire with all due haste.

But I shall miss her most keenly.

He was suddenly obsessed with the need to see Miss Marston as soon as possible. Convinced he had purposely resisted her charms in the past, he would now allow himself to surrender to her allure the way he had so easily surrendered to Elizabeth’s. After all, society had already given its approval of Miss Alyssa Marston as the perfect woman to compliment his perfect life.