She had never imagined Mr. Wickham so vicious that he would risk ruining a young girl's life. "Poor girl," she said. "I had no idea."
"Apart from Colonel Fitzwilliam, you are the only one who knows the story. We arranged for Georgiana to retire to the country under an assumed name until the child was born. I came to Netherfield to avoid any questions about her whereabouts. There I met you. I fear I was not amiable company at the time."
No wonder he showed so little interest in the neighbourhood and its inhabitants. How little she had understood of him! She wished she could take back every saucy speech, every impertinence she had made to him then. "What a trial for all of you."
"Indeed, but no greater a trial than you face now. So you see, your family is no different from mine, except I had the resources to hide the unfortunate truth."
"But in Lydia's case, it was a foolish act in keeping with a lifetime of foolishness, not one mistake in judgment."
He swung to face her, unexpected anger in his mien. "Does that matter? Georgiana knew better. She had the finest care and education available. No matter the circumstances, she knew she should not allow him to touch her. She knew an elopement would disgrace the family. She knew it, and did it anyway, risking her future and mine and the Darcy family name. Her only excuse was her age, but even at fifteen, she should not have made such a choice." The tone of bitterness was unmistakable.
"It can be difficult for a young girl in love to make good decisions," Elizabeth said in an effort to offer comfort, still shocked at the magnitude of the secret he had disclosed.
"So you forgive your own sister for her faults?" His voice was sharp.
"I would, if she showed any sign of remorse and evidence of learning from her errors. But my sister would do the same again tomorrow, had she the opportunity. Would Miss Darcy do so?"
The lines of his face relaxed slightly. "No. She has been terrified of the slightest improper behaviour since then. She is just now beginning to regain her spirits."
She could see his anger was not completely passed. "And are you yourself not now contemplating an alliance that is ill-advised at best?
Darcy was silent for a moment and then he sat beside Elizabeth on the bench, his long legs resting to one side. He took her gloved hand in his. Elizabeth was too embarrassed to look up, but she felt all the power of his affection and the protection he wished to offer her. It was a moment before she realized that the pressure on her fingertips was because of his tugging on her glove. A fire seemed to kindle inside her at the realization that he planned to remove it. The smooth kidskin slipped away easily, but Darcy paused with her hand half revealed, as if asking her permission to continue.
When she made no protest, he made a slight sound of satisfaction and peeled the glove away. Elizabeth, dizzy with the sensation of exposure and his attentions, did not immediately realize the import of the harsh exhalation he made then, as she turned her averted eyes to gaze at him, she saw his pained look. With a sinking feeling, she realized the reason.
She had to fight the impulse to hide her chapped fingers; they seemed to have a will of their own and a desire to disappear. There was nothing to say. Her hands bore silent witness to the manual labours she had undertaken, and there was no disguising it. She would not allow herself to feel shame for doing what she must, so she raised her chin and looked off into the distance, as if his reaction did not trouble her.
"Elizabeth." His voice was little more than a hoarse whisper. "Let me take you back to London. I can speak with your uncle tomorrow."
She shook her head, tears stinging the corners of her eyes. "I cannot leave. I am needed here."
"Elizabeth, I cannot have you working in a shop!"
Elizabeth's lips tightened. "As it happens, it is not your decision,
Mr.
Darcy. I made the choice to work there, and I will continue to do so."
"I admire your courage and resolution, but surely you must realize--"
She overrode his words. "Surely
you
must realize that given a choice between knowing that my sister, who is close to her confinement and not well, must do the work, or doing it myself, I will do it."
"Mr. Browning can hire an assistant. I will speak to him about it."
"And leave what remains of my reputation in shambles?" she said. "I think not, sir. Besides, he would expect Jane to do the work, and she would do it. Or am I to suppose you would allow Miss Darcy to be in such a situation when you yourself could take on the burden and spare her?"
"Of course not." He struggled to regain control. "Please, Miss Bennet, I have no wish to quarrel with you, and although my ill-chosen words may rightly anger you, the sentiment behind them is well meant."
"Perhaps you should take that as your motto, sir."
"If it meant you understood that I wish nothing but the best for you, I would do so."
Embarrassed, Elizabeth made a half-hearted attempt to remove her hand from his in order to hide it once again in its glove, but she was not sorry when he resisted her attempt. She said, "Mr. Darcy, I seem to be missing something. Perhaps you should return it."
"Why?" His voice was low, far from his earlier anger. "You have had possession of my heart for these many months. Surely you can spare this lovely token for a few minutes."
"It is hardly lovely at present, sir."
Darcy's eyes darkened in a way that made Elizabeth forget to breathe. He raised her hand and tenderly brushed his lips along the back of one finger, then the next, until he had kissed each one, each touch seeming to reach deep inside her. "It is a hand that bears witness to love and an admirable devotion. It is full of beauty."
Elizabeth felt that she could no longer trust her heart not to jump out of her chest. She could not look away, and her fingers still felt the touch of his lips like a brand. When his gaze dropped to her mouth, the tension became almost unbearable.
A rustling behind them caused Darcy to drop her hand and move away abruptly. They sat in utter silence and stillness for a frightening moment. A small brown rabbit hopped across the path, pausing to stand on its hind legs and regard them quizzically, as if wondering what they were doing in his churchyard. Elizabeth's laughter sent him fleeing into the brush.
Darcy flexed his fingers. "A false alarm, but a proper reminder, I am sorry to say. Forgive my presumption, Miss Bennet."
"There is nothing to forgive. I think it unlikely that our small friend will gossip," Elizabeth teased, but she restored the glove to her hand. It was better this way; it would be too easy to allow further liberties, especially when they gave her such pleasure. "But we must return. Mr. Browning cannot spare me for long."
Darcy frowned darkly, but said, "As you wish."
She moved closer to him, wishing to see his smile again. "No doubt the presence of an apprentice will lighten the load for everyone."
"I can only hope so." He shifted slightly, but made no move to stand. "Will you promise to tell me if you are in need of assistance?"
"That is easier said than done," she said lightly. In truth, she was reluctant to make such a promise. There were too many possible circumstances of which she might wish him to remain in ignorance. "I have no means to contact you."
"The boy knows how to reach me and is discreet." Darcy's look begged for her understanding.
Elizabeth arched an eyebrow. "I am sure of it."
"Will you tell me, then?"
She knew the question went much further than the stated request. Suddenly struggling for breath, she said, "If you wish it, I will."
The tension between them became greater, like the air before a thunderstorm. "I wish it," he said, his voice almost a whisper. "That and much more. I hope you do not object."
She needed to break the spell of the moment. "I am not sorry to hear it," she said with a smile, "Though it mystifies me."
"Mystifies you? How so?"
"The same reason all of your relatives will be mystified. You could choose an heiress, a titled lady, a great society beauty, yet you are here in a country town with a woman of no prospects, no connections, and whose beauty you early withstood. I do not seek to devalue myself, but I do not begin to match your family's expectations. Is that not reason enough for mystification? Or perhaps you chose me with the express purpose of discomposing your family?"
"It is nothing of the sort. I cannot explain why I must be with you, except to say that the sun shines more brightly and the very air tastes sweeter where you are. By your side, I notice and rejoice in marvels of nature that are invisible to me otherwise. You make me wish to be a better man, and you remind me that there is still good in the human soul. When you laugh, I want to laugh as well. When you sing, it fills me with joy and a sense that all is right with the world. I cannot explain how it is that you have bewitched me, but bewitched I am."
Her throat became tight. "Perhaps it is nothing more than my impertinence."
He shook his head. "There are ladies of the
ton
who can make me laugh, but their humour is always at the expense of another. When you tease, there is no cruelty in it, only amusement. Your first thought, unlike theirs, is not for yourself. Perhaps society might think such a match ill-advised, but I do not. Your value is not in your situation, but in your soul."
Elizabeth could not but smile at him. "So the great Mr. Darcy has become an egalitarian? I cannot believe it."
"God help me, neither can I," he said fervently. "I do not know what I believe anymore. Do you know there are street children who have taken to sleeping in the mews of my house in London? The cooks feed them leftovers, and I pretend to know nothing about it. My family would tell me to evict them immediately, lest they trouble the horses, but they sleep by the horses to stay warm. Why should my horses deserve better treatment than children?"
She laughed. "You have fortunate horses indeed, to have such devoted children to watch over them at night."
He gave her a sidelong glance. "Yes, well, there is one less to watch over them now."
"The boy? You are hiring agents out of your mews?"
"Only the children. Not the horses."
Elizabeth burst out laughing at his droll look. His eyes darkened, and he raised his hand as if to touch her cheek, but paused when his fingertips were but a few inches away. Elizabeth's skin tingled in anticipation, and she wished she did not have to stop him, but with a wry twist of his lips, he withdrew his hand and placed it by his side. She glanced down, biting her lip.
"Elizabeth, please consider what I have said. We both have much to think on, and I will not press you now, but you will be ever in my thoughts, and I hope you will not forget me."
She cocked her head to the side. "I do not think that is in the realm of possibility. You may rest easy."
"I will rest with dreams of a certain young lady, just as I always do." He took a deep breath as if trying to steady himself. "And I must return you to town now, before I begin to confuse dreams with reality."
She knew only that she did not wish to be parted from him so soon, even though it was ill-advised to stay. "You do not wish to make them reality?"
He swung to face her, his visage showing clearly how great was his temptation. "You cannot know how much I wish to make them reality, but not at the expense of your reputation."
Half relieved, half disappointed, she bit her lip once more, trying to hide her embarrassment at her forwardness and his refusal. She was about to come up with a teasing retort to lighten the moment when Darcy made a slight, half-strangled sound and moved so close to her that she could feel the warmth of his breath on her cheek. His hand was touching her cheek, and Elizabeth was consumed by a feeling new to her, a heady sense of anticipation and a deep desire for something more that she did not understand.
Time seemed to stop as he drew closer to her, his breathing ragged. She could not believe this was real; at any moment she would wake from this irresistible dream. Her eyes closed involuntarily as she felt the intimate warmth of his lips against hers. His restraint was so palpable it seemed as if the air trembled with it, yet she felt as if he were taking in the very essence of her, something no man had ever touched before. She was consumed by longing. How could so many sensations come from a mere touch of the lips? The exhilarating pleasure could not disguise her deep sense of rightness that this one particular man was kissing her.
He raised his lips from hers. His hands slipped down to her shoulders as he leaned his forehead against hers. "I cannot begin to tell you what you mean to me, Elizabeth. It is beyond my own understanding, far beyond anything I have thought myself capable of feeling. Do not keep me waiting too long, I beg of you." His voice was ragged, barely above a whisper.
She was still dizzy from his kiss. "As soon as I am free to return to London, you shall know of it."
He seemed to struggle to take a breath. "And you will not deny me?"
She had not thought it possible that her skin could burn more than it already did. How could she deny him? It would be against her every inclination. Every fiber of her longed to be with him, and for the sake of her family, she could not afford to turn him away. She hated herself for allowing such a thought to even enter her head, and it cooled the passion in her more than her own will ever could.