What Would Mr. Darcy Do? (13 page)

“His question was not if I
needed
a chaperone; but whether I
wanted
one,” she said demurely.

His smile grew. “I see we are back to provocative remarks.”

“Is that a complaint, sir?”

“Not at all,” he said, punctuating each word with another kiss inside her captive hand. He turned his attention to her fingers one at a time, never taking his eyes off her. Elizabeth, astonished by the degree of pleasure she was deriving merely from the touch of his lips on her hand, leaned toward him, expectant that he would kiss her, but Darcy, with a glint in his eye, continued his tantalizing exploration until she shivered visibly in response. He moved nearer and finally answered her need by capturing her lips with his own, and, taking advantage of the moment of distraction as his desire met hers, drew her toward him and into his arms.

She said, “Fitzwilliam, if someone walks in…”

“They will be very shocked,” he completed her sentence, his lips exploring the angles of her face. “Elizabeth, my love, tomorrow you will be my wife.”

Torn between anxiety that they would be discovered and her hunger for his touch, she hesitated until at last his mouth met hers again and any remaining rational thought fled her mind. The intoxicating feeling of his hands pressing her close to him made her tremble as she lost herself in the pleasure of his kisses. Fortunately, no one did walk in.

When the gentlemen retired for port after dinner, Mrs. Bennet was left to hold forth at length to the ladies about the plans for Elizabeth’s wedding. This was more tolerable to her daughter than it might have been otherwise, since it was her first opportunity to hear from Mrs. Gardiner what plans had been made. Mary was to assist Elizabeth in her preparations, since Jane would not arrive until the actual time of the ceremony; while Kitty and Georgiana were to gather the last flowers of the season to decorate the church early in the morning. Georgiana, to no one’s great surprise, had accepted an invitation to remain at Longbourn for an additional week before returning to London in order to give the newlyweds some privacy.

A knock was heard at the front door, and a few moments later, Hill entered the drawing room. “There is a
gentleman
to see Miss Elizabeth,” she announced, managing to imply through her tone that no unknown man who called so late in the day could truly be deemed a gentleman. Curious, Elizabeth bade her to show him in, and shortly after, Hill announced the mysterious gentleman.

“Colonel Fitzwilliam!” cried Elizabeth. “This is indeed a surprise!”

“As was the express I received yesterday from Darcy, I assure you,” he responded. “It is most delightful to see you again, Miss Bennet.” He spotted Georgiana and, with an expression of surprise, greeted her with a kiss on the cheek.

Elizabeth introduced the colonel to her mother, sisters, and aunt, and asked Hill to request that Mr. Darcy join them at his earliest convenience.

“So he
is
here,” said Colonel Fitzwilliam. “I must apologize for the hour of my call, but when I presented myself at Netherfield looking for my cousin, I was told in no uncertain terms by the servants that not only was Darcy absent, but that Bingley was not receiving guests since it was his wedding day. Since you, Miss Bennet, are the sole acquaintance I can claim in Hertfordshire apart from Bingley and Darcy, I decided to throw myself on your mercy in hopes that you could direct me to my cousin, and the Netherfield staff were so kind as to provide me an escort here.”

“Very wise, Colonel,” laughed Elizabeth. “It is certainly the case that Mr. Darcy is generally here if he is not at Netherfield, and we are all avoiding Netherfield today! But please, will you join us? I would imagine you would be in need of some refreshment after your journey—have you come from London?”

“Yes, fortunately I was in town to receive the post. So, I understand I must offer you my felicitations, Miss Bennet. I must say that Darcy has been more sly than usual; I admit that I had no inkling that the wind was blowing in this direction.”

At that moment, Darcy himself entered and greeted his cousin heartily. “So you did make it, Fitzwilliam,” he said, “I doubted you would be able to come on such short notice.”

“Well, it is traditional to give more than one day’s notice on a wedding invitation,” said Colonel Fitzwilliam with a laugh. “You should have heard my mother on the subject!”

“I am just as happy I did not,” said Darcy dryly. “Sometimes it is best to hope for forgiveness after the fact.”

“Well, Father was quite entertained, I must say—he said immediately, ‘Well, we know where he gets that from. I don’t want to be the one to tell Catherine, though.’” His imitation brought a delighted smile to Georgiana’s face.

“So, Mr. Darcy, where
do
you get that from?” asked Elizabeth archly.

“I see no reason to dredge up old family stories for you until we are actually married, my dear,” said Darcy austerely, “no matter how much my cousin chooses to embarrass me.”

“Well, I shall take pity on you, Miss Bennet,” said Colonel Fitzwilliam. “Let me just say that his father was known for his, um, forthrightness and persistence in his courtship of my aunt.”

“I see,” said Elizabeth with a sparkle in her eyes. “I shall look forward to hearing the full story someday.”

The conversation continued in this vein for some time, until the colonel remarked, “Well, I am sure it is past time for me to take my leave. Darcy, I wonder if you would be so kind as to direct me to a nearby inn. I confess that I had planned to throw myself on Bingley’s mercy for the night, but under the circumstances, I believe I should make other arrangements.”

Elizabeth cast a significant look at her mother, who, quite overwhelmed by having the son of an earl in her home, had said barely a word. Thus prodded, Mrs. Bennet said, “Oh, Colonel Fitzwilliam, there is no need for that! The inn at Meryton is hardly suitable for a gentleman such as yourself. We would be most honored if you would consent to stay here.”

Colonel Fitzwilliam looked at her in surprise. “That is a most gracious offer, madam, but I am well aware that, with your daughter’s wedding tomorrow, you must have quite enough without a guest, as well,” he said courteously.

Mr. Bennet said dryly, “Although it is true that we have a wedding tomorrow, it is hardly an unusual burden; we marry off daughters nearly every day here—Jane today, Lizzy tomorrow, and I am certain that Kitty or Mary will have found someone by the end of the week. So you can see, sir, it will not put us out in the least.”

Colonel Fitzwilliam looked puzzled, and Elizabeth took mercy on him. “Mr. Bingley’s bride is my eldest sister, Colonel Fitzwilliam, so you see that it is indeed quite a week for weddings here.” A look of understanding passed over his face, followed immediately by a quickly veiled doubtful look directed first at Darcy, then at Elizabeth. Clearly he recalled all too well Darcy’s confidences about Bingley, and was drawing some interesting conclusions.

“Indeed, Colonel Fitzwilliam, it would be no trouble. As you can see, we already have the Gardiners and Georgiana as houseguests, and one more would make little difference,” said Elizabeth warmly.

“Yes, do stay,” Georgiana added. “I have so much to tell you about!”

“In that case, I gratefully accept your offer of hospitality, Mrs. Bennet,” he said.

The addition of Colonel Fitzwilliam to the party added a certain liveliness; he entered into the conversation directly and talked very pleasantly. Elizabeth found she enjoyed his company as much as she had in Kent, and she was pleased to see Georgiana was well entertained as well. Kitty was clearly quite taken with his manners and demeanor, and indulged herself in the occasional fluttering of eyelashes in his direction, though, fortunately, without the blatancy that characterized her behavior when the regiment was in Meryton. The colonel had a well-informed mind which allowed him to challenge Mr. Bennet to a degree that intrigued the latter, who for once chose to remain in company rather than retreat to his library.

It was not until near suppertime that Elizabeth noticed that Darcy was not contributing to the conversation. At first she thought the party had grown too large for his taste, but as she continued to observe him, she began to suspect he was actively displeased. Perhaps the invitation Mrs. Bennet had extended in all civility made him unhappy; she could well understand that he might prefer to limit his cousin’s exposure to the Bennet household. She could feel the tension radiating from him, and could think of no other cause. With concern, she redoubled her efforts at amiability toward Colonel Fitzwilliam, hoping to alleviate Darcy’s anxiety over what his cousin might think, but his grim looks continued unabated, and the responses he made were as brief as civility would permit.

When Darcy finally deemed it late enough for him to return to Netherfield without risk of disturbing the newlyweds, he asked Elizabeth to walk him out. Noting he still had a forbidding set to his mouth, she put a hand on his arm as soon as they were beyond the lights of the house. To her surprise, he gathered her tightly into his arms without any of his usual preliminaries and kissed her with fierce demand. Elizabeth was at first taken aback by his approach, but the intensity of his ardor soon stirred an equal need in her, and she matched his desperate possessiveness as she sought her own satisfaction from his lips. His grip on her bespoke a more violent and uncontrolled passion than was common for him, but, instead of frightening her, it seemed to tap into a well of desire she had never known existed, and a hunger which could not be quenched. Intoxicated by his urgent kisses, she pressed herself against him as if she could never get close enough. Finally he broke off as abruptly as he had begun, and she clung to his shoulders, feeling dizzy from her response to his forceful passion.

“Oh, Elizabeth,” he whispered, leaning his forehead against hers. “You have no idea how much I need you. Forgive me for being so rough; I know I should not…”

Barely able to speak, she put her hand to his cheek. “There is nothing to forgive, my love.” In the darkness she could barely make out his face. “I assume you are less than happy that Colonel Fitzwilliam is staying here, but I will try to make sure my family does not embarrass itself too much before him; it should not be hard with both the Gardiners and Georgiana here.”

Darcy gave a short laugh. “For once it makes no difference to me at all if your family behaves completely disgracefully.”

She looked at him closely. “Then what is troubling you? And do not tell me it is nothing, since I will not believe you if you do.”

“Elizabeth…” he paused, “sometimes there are things that are better not discussed.”

“That may be true, but, as it happens, I seem to have a gift for jumping to the wrong conclusions when I am forced to guess at whatever it is that we are choosing not to discuss.”

He was silent for a moment. “I cannot argue the point. If you wish, I will tell you, but please understand that I know that what I am about to say is completely without justification, and you have every right to be angry that I am even thinking it.” He took a deep breath. “I… disliked seeing you laughing with my cousin; in fact I disliked it a great deal.”

She stared at him, shocked. “Do you mean to suggest…?”

“I mean to suggest nothing except that I would happily toss him out on his ear to keep him away from you. As I said, I know full well that it is completely baseless, at least so far as you are concerned.”

She considered this startling information for a few moments. “I am unsure what to say. There has never been anything between us in the past, and certainly there could not be now.”

“Nothing on your part, perhaps—apart from having liked him better than you did me—but I cannot say the same for him,” said Darcy darkly. “He was very taken with you at Rosings, and felt it necessary to tell me about it at length and repeatedly, an experience which I can assure you I did not enjoy. So when I see you happy in each other’s company now… well, you can imagine, certainly.” He might have added that, during the painful time after Rosings, one of his preferred methods of self-torture was to mull on the likelihood that Elizabeth would have happily accepted his cousin had
he
been the one to propose. The mere thought was enough to make him desperate to seek relief in Elizabeth’s arms, and he embraced her fiercely, burying his face in her neck.

“I see,” said Elizabeth, distracted by the exquisite sensations he was creating with his urgent caresses, but making a valiant attempt to continue the conversation. “Well, I cannot deny that there was a time I liked him better than you, but—” Her words were stopped as he captured her mouth, exploring it with a forceful and intoxicating thoroughness which threatened to deprive her of the possibility of rational speech. “…But as we both know, that was based on a misapprehension, and it is quite some time that I have loved you far more than I ever liked him.” Having managed to say her piece, she finally allowed herself the guilty pleasure of surrendering once more to the passionate demands of his lips.

“He gave some thought to asking you to marry him, before deciding it was too imprudent financially,” Darcy said, his hands beginning an insistent exploration of the curves of her body which threatened to overwhelm Elizabeth with fiery sensations.

“Well, under the circumstances, I am glad he did not; it would make things quite uncomfortable now, I would imagine,” she said, struggling to stop her voice from shaking.

“Would you have refused him, then?” Darcy’s voice was tense.

She hoped desperately that he was unable to tell just how thoroughly he had devastated her defenses with his passionate advances, and how much she wished he would not stop. “I truly cannot say what I would have done; I had only known him for three weeks, after all. I can only say that had I accepted him, I would have missed something far deeper.”

He gripped her tightly. “Is that true? It is vain of me, I know, to want to be more important to you than any other man could have been.”

“Have you never considered, my love, that I have always had a strong response to you? Even when I disliked you, I did so with a passion. Had I never met you, in all likelihood I could have found a man whom I could have learned to love, but I cannot believe it would have been with such depth, so… without reserve.” She was amazed that she could speak so openly to him of her feelings, especially when her vulnerability to him was so great.

“Thank you,” he responded, his voice muffled by her hair. “I know I should not need to hear such reassurance, but I do.”

“Well, if you think I never have similar moments of anxiety about your regard, you are mistaken,” she said softly.

He looked at her in astonishment. “You do? Why, in heaven’s name, would you have the slightest doubt?”

She laughed and wound her arms around his neck. “Because I love you. Because I need you. Because I am all too human.” She kissed him lingeringly, earning his full cooperation in the endeavor as he gathered her close, the touch of his lips becoming gentle and seductive.

“Because tomorrow cannot come soon enough,” he added. He ran a finger across her lips, still somewhat swollen from his earlier ardor. “I have to warn you that no one seeing you tonight is going to be in doubt about what we have been doing out here.” He trailed tantalizing kisses across her face.

“Do you think any of them will be surprised?”

“Well, if our guilt is to be obvious, I suppose that I might as well indulge myself a bit further,” he replied, recapturing her lips. Giving in to an urge which had long tempted him, he ran his fingers deep into her hair, heedless of disrupting its careful styling. The intimacy of his touch caused her to arch herself against him, and he responded immediately by deepening the kiss, sending shivers of delight through her.