Truth about Mr. Darcy (5 page)

To Elizabeth, it was truly beyond her, the vast array of feelings and emotions this one man was able to elicit from her body with only the slightest of touches. Until a week ago, she had never even suspected the proud and haughty master of Pemberley could ever be so humbled by the depth of his feelings about anything, most especially, feelings for her. Even though, she suddenly recalled, Jane and Charlotte had long since believed Darcy to be enamored of her.

She had been shocked by the sensations that coursed through her when his lips had first met her flesh, and she had reveled in the contentment and warmth she felt as he reached for her a second time. Though it was now apparent—to her—that Darcy seemed to know
his
desires quite well, Elizabeth still remained confused and doubtful as to her own.

There was most definitely an attraction between them; she could no longer deny that. But how much of it was purely physical, especially on her part? In a relatively short amount of time—for, to her, it seemed a very short amount of time—Darcy had somehow come to feel a great deal for her, and in light of her recent insights into his character, Elizabeth suddenly found herself wondering how difficult it might be to put all her ill-appointed past prejudices and misgivings aside, and get to know Darcy on a far more personal level, perhaps even intimately. Could she ever grow to love him? Did she even wish it? Her head was clouded with endless questions as her body traitorously cried out,
Yes,
to each and every one.

The possible answer to one particular question, however, disconcerted Elizabeth greatly, for if she
were
to allow herself to fall in love with a man like Darcy, could her heart survive the disappointment she suspected she would experience should he ever change his mind about his feelings for her? She needed to think coherently and knew she could not expect to do so while in such close proximity to him, especially while his large, gentle hands held fast to hers, his thumbs tracing circles upon the backs of them. While such a tender action felt heavenly and reassuring, it was not at all conducive to inspiring rational thought, and in an effort to put some distance between them, she gently tugged her fingers from his grasp and turned away.

Darcy felt the loss acutely and could not repress a moment of alarm when Elizabeth withdrew from him and walked quickly toward the fire. His throat felt so tight and his mouth so parched, he was unable to speak, and as he had on so many occasions, so many he could no longer count, he simply swallowed his pride and watched her, drinking in her beauty, his love for her, he suspected, brimming in his eyes. With hesitant steps, he came forward to stand just behind her.

In spite of the blazing fire, Elizabeth was wholly conscious of the heat radiating from Darcy’s body, and she felt a deep blush spread across her face, her torso, and all her most intimate places. Daringly, he placed his hand upon her shoulder. When she did not object, he slid unsteady fingers along the muslin of her gown until he reached her delicate skin. His heart beat wildly, and his breath caressed her cheek. There was no mistaking her gasp, but he had to strain to hear her voice over the pounding of blood rushing through his ears.

“What exactly is it you would like from me, Mr. Darcy?”

His voice was hoarse as he answered honestly, “Everything. Anything.”

Elizabeth turned to face him, and he recaptured her hands and looked at her with a penetrating gaze full of love and anguish.

“Do not turn me away,” he said. “I beg you. Say you will allow me the chance to love you as you deserve to be loved—as I have already loved you these many, many weeks—most ardently and with a passionate admiration and regard I can no longer conceal from the rest of the world.”

She stared at him in astonishment, but he had not done. “If you will consent to be my wife, I promise I will do everything within my power to make you happy. Marry me, dearest, loveliest Elizabeth. Relieve my suffering, and grant me the opportunity to know what it is to be content every day of my life, for without you, I fear I shall never truly know.”

Elizabeth could not immediately speak, so startled and moved was she by his heartfelt and unexpected declaration.
How am I to answer him? How can he expect me to accept a proposal of marriage when, until now, ours has been such a tenuous acquaintance? Certainly, even he must see such a union between us at this point would simply be nonsensical, to say the least? But, oh! To be held in those strong arms for the rest of my days and kissed by those lips each night!
She took several deep breaths to calm herself.

When she finally spoke, it was quietly, but not without proper feeling. “You honor me, sir, with such a beautiful proposal, but I am afraid you will think me the greatest simpleton when I confess you have caught me quite off guard. I am moved, flattered, stunned that you have come to hold me in such a tender regard, and honored beyond words by your offer. As much as I do not wish to be the cause of any further distress to you, I am very sorry, Mr. Darcy, but I am afraid I cannot possibly give you the answer you wish to hear, at least not at this time. To be completely honest, sir, after spending so many weeks in your company, I am ashamed to say it has been only very recently I have begun to develop a better understanding of, and a true appreciation for, your admirable character, and it pains me to now say that, until a few days ago, I truly had no inkling of your deep regard for me.”

“I see.” His disappointment was extreme, but Darcy would not be so easily dissuaded after such an honest speech—or such a positive physical response to his caresses. “Will you allow me, then, the honor of courting you, Miss Bennet?” he asked in a painfully quiet voice. “It will give you an opportunity to know me better. It will be a chance for both of us to know each other on a far more personal level. I promise I will not press for anything more in the near future, but please, if you cannot at this time agree to be my wife, I fervently hope you can, at least, find it within your heart to allow me this much.”

Elizabeth could not see any polite way to refuse such a reasonable request, especially given her difficulty in resisting the look of hopeful longing in his eyes as he gazed upon her. It obviously meant a great deal to him, and once she had begun to consider the idea, she had to agree that knowing him better could only serve to benefit them both. Finally, she gave him a small, almost shy smile and said, “I will agree to a courtship, Mr. Darcy. I do believe the prospect of knowing you better, sir, is one I shall welcome wholeheartedly.”

His smile was nothing short of radiant, and Elizabeth realized then she had never before seen him smile as he did at that moment, with his full self, as though illuminated from within. Though her answer to his proposal was not what he could have hoped for, the sheer pleasure her concession brought him was apparent, and it made her smile warmly in return. “Thank you,” he breathed as he gazed at her, his features full of rapture and love.

His expression was soon to grow serious, however. In the next moment, before either of them could possibly know what they were about, Elizabeth found Darcy leaning in to brush her lips so tenderly with his. She could not have prevented the shiver of pleasure she received even had she tried. Placing her hands against his chest, she became distracted by the gentle pressure of his lips as his fingertips lingered along the neckline at the back of her gown, caressing her shoulders and the nape of her neck in the most tantalizing manner.

As he noted Elizabeth’s continued responsiveness to his ministrations, Darcy felt an unadulterated thrill travel through his body and, with it, the last fragments of his self-control. With a wrenching determination, he pulled away and caressed the softness of her cheek with an unsteady hand, one thought predominant in his mind:
If it is the last thing I do, I shall win her heart and make her my wife!

***

That evening at Netherfield there was a noticeable difference in Darcy. The sullenness and despair that had consumed him for the past week now seemed to be nothing more than an unpleasant memory. Hope reigned in his heart with the pure elation he felt since kissing Elizabeth. Each time Darcy’s gaze fell upon her lovely face, he was flooded with a warmth that truly became him, which brought relief and joy to Jane and Bingley, and a flush of feeling to Elizabeth.

To Miss Bingley, who was hardly blind to his marked preference for Elizabeth, it was nothing short of infuriating. She had tried for days to draw him out—and for years to interest him.
Damn Charles for ever coming into Hertfordshire! What could have inspired him to settle in such an odious place?
All her efforts would be for naught if Darcy ended up paying his addresses to Elizabeth Bennet.

Miss Bingley glared as Darcy’s gaze followed Elizabeth to the pianoforte with a half-drugged look of desire in his eyes.
Intolerable!
How could he even think of throwing himself away over an impertinent little nobody? And Charles is no better, following Jane Bennet around the countryside like a lap dog.
Something needed to be done before any more time elapsed. Perhaps they could remove to Town before Christmas? London was far enough away from the charms and allurements of the Bennet sisters, and though she and Darcy would no longer share the distinction of residing together in the same house, the trip to Town would at least provide the relief of far more superior society for her brother.

Once Jane and Elizabeth had taken their leave of the Netherfield party and were on their way back to Longbourn, Miss Bingley allowed herself to breathe easier, eagerly anticipating the restoration of Darcy’s full attention to the members of his own party—namely, herself. The entire evening, however, seemed calculated to disappoint and vex her at every turn. When Bingley and Darcy finally returned from seeing the ladies to their carriage, which, as far as Miss Bingley was concerned, had taken far longer than civility required, the two gentlemen quickly excused themselves and retired to the billiard room, where they passed the rest of their evening.

With a disdainful huff, Miss Bingley swallowed her irritation and approached her sister with the purpose of soliciting her support for her scheme to remove their entire party to London as soon as possible. She had felt fairly certain she would meet with success on this front; however, to her increasing vexation, she soon found herself facing disappointment once again.

“Though I do long to be in Town, Caroline,” said Mrs. Hurst distractedly as she examined the elegant gold bangles adorning her wrists, “I hardly think it would be prudent to travel there now, when our brother is planning to hold a ball within a matter of a few weeks. Surely you must realize he will require all our assistance, and Christmas shall be upon us soon after. No doubt the local gentry will expect him to do
some
measure of entertaining, you know, if he wishes to establish himself well in the neighborhood. It shall not be all
that
bad, I suppose. Hertfordshire, I do hear, is uniformly charming once it snows, even if the society itself leaves something to be desired. A sleigh ride through the countryside might be quite pleasant, you know, Sister.”

“My dear Louisa,” Miss Bingley said with disdain, “we could enjoy a sleigh ride just as well in London, but
that
is hardly the point. I was thinking only of poor Charles when I devised this plan. Do you honestly think it wise to permit him to stay on here in this savage society and carry on as he has with Jane Bennet? He has all but proposed to her, and I am convinced it is only a matter of time before all hope will be lost for us.”

“Certainly you do not think Jane Bennet would refuse our brother?”

Miss Bingley was incensed. “Refuse him? I should say not!”

“Well, then I do not understand what you can be about, Caroline. Though you are well aware I, too, had my reservations in the beginning, I confess I do not remember ever having seen Charles so much in love. Certainly her connections are not what one would have hoped for—
Ugh!
Her mother!
—but Jane Bennet is a sweet girl; not even you can deny it, Sister, and I believe she will make him very happy. He could do far worse, as you well know.”

“Louisa, all that is immaterial!” Miss Bingley hissed as she clenched her fists upon her lap. “He is our brother! What will our acquaintance in Town say should they hear of this infatuation of his? No. It is not to be borne. His judgment has obviously been impaired by Jane Bennet’s figure and her serene smile. Charles needs our protection from these scheming country people. They are not so artless and simple as they would have us believe.”

She was fuming. This was not at all going to her liking. “And what about poor Mr. Darcy, Louisa? Since we have arrived in this odious part of the country, he has not been at all himself. Surely he can no longer be in his right mind, for if he was, you must know he would never have approved of Charles’s forming such an unsuitable connection. It would be a punishment for him. He is used to only the very best and most refined society, and I strongly believe the savagery here has managed, in some grievous way, to unhinge him. Why, you must have seen Elizabeth Bennet tonight, Sister! She all but threw herself at him. It was most shocking. She is attempting to ensnare him with her arts and allurements. Her behavior is almost scandalous!”

Mrs. Hurst, whose attention was now focused on her rings, merely shrugged. “Mmm…”

Miss Bingley threw back her head in frustration and exhaled loudly. Her gaze soon came to rest upon Mr. Hurst, and she decided to try another approach. “Come, Mr. Hurst,” she cooed in what she perceived was a persuasive tone, “certainly we must hear your opinion of this wretched business, sir!”

Mr. Hurst’s eyes suddenly flew open, and he expelled a loud grunt of surprise. If Miss Bingley had been more astute in her observation, she would have recognized that her brother-in-law had no opinion prepared for her to hear; he had been dozing upon the settee for the last half hour, at least. “What was that?” he grumbled in irritation. Upon seeing Miss Bingley smirking at him, he rolled his eyes and muttered, “Damn tedious waste,” before promptly shutting them again.

Miss Bingley turned to her sister with a smug look of triumph. “Oh, I quite agree! You see, Louisa, Mr. Hurst and I are of exactly the same opinion. We cannot allow the dear man to be placed in such a compromising position—to be further subjected to the machinations of such a penniless and impertinent little upstart who behaves in the most reprehensible and unfashionable manner I have ever seen. It is deplorable.”

Mr. Hurst blinked at her in confusion and struggled to pull himself to a sitting position. “What the blazes are you prattling on about now?” he asked gruffly as he reached past her and began to refill his empty glass with wine.

“As I was saying, Mr. Hurst, we must do everything in our power to protect our Mr. Darcy from that mercenary little chit, Elizabeth Bennet.”

“
Our
Mr. Darcy, eh? You think he needs
your
protection, do you? Huh!” he snorted. “That is rich, indeed! If you want my opinion, you should leave the pair of them to themselves. In case you have not noticed, Caroline, the man has been hiding himself away in bloody misery for the last week, and tonight he finally snapped out of it. It can hardly be construed as a coincidence that it was after Elizabeth Bennet came to call. I say, if it took a few smiles from a little country lass to do…
whatever
it is she did to him, then let Darcy have her, and be done with it. There can be no harm in a man indulging in a little sport every now and then.”

Miss Bingley sat with her mouth hanging open in shock at his forgetting himself in such a vulgar manner.

“Oh, come now, Caroline,” her brother-in-law said with a smirk as he drained his glass and set it upon the table next to the settee, “the way Darcy’s eyes were devouring that woman tonight, I would not have been surprised if he had forgotten we were even in the room. If I did not know better, he looked as though he would have taken her right there in the middle of the first course had the opportunity presented itself.” And with that, he removed himself to join the other two gentlemen in the billiard room, chuckling over his sister-in-law’s pale complexion and her scandalized look of alarm.

“Hurst, come in and have a drink,” Darcy said with uncharacteristic cheerfulness. “I was just thrashing Bingley at billiards.”

Grateful for an opportunity to lay aside his cue, Bingley poured a healthy glass of port for his brother-in-law and refilled Darcy’s and his own. As Mr. Hurst accepted his drink, he fixed Bingley with a level look that belied his inebriated state, and said, “By God, Bingley, that sister of yours will be your ruin.” Then he raised his glass in Darcy’s direction. “And she won’t do you any favors either, I might add.” He took several satisfying gulps of the contents as Darcy stared at him with a furrowed brow.

“Come, Hurst,” said Bingley with his usual good humor, “I grant you that Caroline may be difficult, but I hardly think it will lead me to ruin. And as for Darcy”—he laughed—“well, I doubt there is any woman in all of England who is prepared to do more for him!”

Darcy shrugged his shoulders, simultaneously rolling his eyes with distaste.

“Bloody right about that one! If I were you, Darcy, I’d think twice before courting Elizabeth Bennet again in Caroline’s company. Damned jealous of that one, she is, and rightly so. Come now, man, you must know Caroline has been determined to get you since the day she laid her eyes on Pemberley, and she is pretty blasted angry right about now.” Mr. Hurst took another drink and laughed. “What the devil ever possessed you to stare at Elizabeth Bennet like that all night in decent company? Caroline would have sold herself to the devil for half a glance, never mind what went on between the two of you tonight. Now she wants to drag us all the way to Town just to be rid of her. She may as well remove us all to the Continent for all the good that would do her.”

Bingley sighed and shook his head in exasperation. “Yes, that does sound like our Caroline.”

Mr. Hurst noticed Darcy’s frown. “Now do not go and take offense, Darcy. Though he only manages to gawk at her like a lovesick puppy, I suspect my sister-in-law has similar plans to dispose of Bingley’s Miss Bennet as well.”

Bingley sputtered and choked on his port.

“If you have any thoughts of proposing, Bingley, I would get to it, if I were you. There is no telling what Caroline is capable of when she sets her mind to it.” He threw back the rest of his drink and bid them both a good night.

***

Earlier that evening, after Darcy and Elizabeth had abandoned the relative privacy of Netherfield’s library to rejoin the rest of their party, the couple had found very little opportunity to be alone. Toward the end of the night, however, they managed to steal a few moments of privacy, where they wasted no time orchestrating a plan that would enable them to meet discreetly.

It was quickly decided Darcy would ride out early each morning, as was his wont, to meet with Elizabeth at Oakham Mount. As she habitually indulged in early morning rambles, it seemed a logical plan, so long as the weather was conducive to exercise out-of-doors. From there, they would walk out together, spending at least an hour in each other’s company before parting and returning to their respective households. Darcy would have far preferred to visit with her at Longbourn and openly declare himself to her father, but she had requested he refrain from doing so for the time being. Though he did not like it, Darcy was hesitant to do anything that might cause Elizabeth to withdraw her acceptance of his courtship. He agreed to the scheme only to appease her.

Though Elizabeth was not completely at ease with the idea of keeping their courtship a secret from her father, she
was
determined to conceal it
completely
from her mother, whose rampant effusions and scheming, she well knew, had the potential to drive away even the most determined suitor. It would not do to subject either Darcy or herself to her mother’s high-handed machinations just yet. There was much she felt she needed to learn about Darcy, and she was determined to discover it away from the prying eyes and embarrassing scrutiny of her nearest relations.

***

The late November morning was a particularly fine one. Elizabeth, now well past the pale to the entrance of her father’s estate, broke into a run as she hurried toward Oakham Mount. She should have set out a full quarter of an hour earlier but had found herself unhappily detained by Mr. Collins, of all people. To her growing irritation, with the passing of each week he spent in Hertfordshire—and, indeed, his initial plan had been to spend only one—the odious parson somehow managed to extend his stay. How his patroness could possibly spare him for so long baffled Elizabeth exceedingly; though, if Lady Catherine found her clergyman’s ingratiating attentions half as offensive and tiresome as the young ladies of Longbourn did, it was no wonder she would encourage his absence.
Thank Heaven for dear Jane and her unending patience with that man!
Elizabeth sent up a silent prayer of gratitude for her angelic elder sister, all the while hoping Darcy would still be waiting when she arrived.

Elizabeth was surprised to admit the last fortnight had been one of the most enjoyable she had ever spent. She had faithfully—and secretly—managed to meet with Darcy every morning, and on many occasions, they found themselves reunited again in the afternoon or evening, either at small, informal gatherings or at dinners given by one neighbor or another.

At first, Darcy was hesitant to approach her when in company and reluctantly resigned himself to the possibility that he would be forced to find consolation in the form of his old standby—staring at the woman he loved with undisguised longing from across the room—but, to his immense delight, Elizabeth no longer seemed to be of a mind to stay away.

Having gained a better understanding of Darcy’s taciturn disposition and his haughty composure when in company, Elizabeth made every effort to draw him into conversation with her friends, her neighbors, and the few truly intelligent members of her family.

Much to Darcy’s surprise, he discovered that under Elizabeth’s keen and solicitous guidance he was beginning to relax his stoic mien and even enjoy himself with the people of Hertfordshire. But Darcy found he was never so much at ease—he had never felt so accepted nor so valued for his own merits and contributions—as when he was alone with Elizabeth on their early morning rambles.

Elizabeth turned onto the path leading to Oakham Mount and immediately discerned the familiar figure whose presence she had come to welcome, even anticipate, as he leaned against a tree. She took a moment to study him while he twirled a strand of dried hay between his fingers, seemingly lost in thought. Even in such an informal setting—or perhaps in spite of it—Darcy presented a striking picture. Elizabeth raised her hands to her hair, smoothing any stray curls that may have escaped the confines of her bonnet. She struggled to calm her breathing and then, repressing a smile of pleasure, made her way toward Darcy.

A wide smile overspread his face as he beheld her—her cheeks aglow from the exertion of her morning exercise. It took less than an instant for his mind to begin contemplating how she might look after having partaken of another form of exercise—that of writhing beneath him in ecstasy as he plundered her lips and pleasured her body, claiming her as he so fervently wished to do, forever as his own.