The Secrets of Darcy and Elizabeth: A Pride and Prejudice Variation (15 page)

Elizabeth indulged in a deep breath of fresh air. “Oh, it is so lovely not to be indoors! What beautiful gardens.” She stopped to admire and smell a rose – while Darcy admired her. “This is infinitely superior to lying in bed.”

Darcy was delighting in watching her experience the garden. “I would expect so.”

They walked in silence for a few minutes, Darcy enjoying it when Elizabeth took his arm and leaned on him lightly for support; however, the scent of her – like lilacs and summer days – and her sheer physical proximity threatened his self-control. It was all too easy to imagine pulling her toward him and ravaging her mouth with his. Caressing her hand, he enjoyed the soft silkiness of her skin and tried not to imagine the texture of the skin elsewhere on her body. The possibility that someday he might have the opportunity to touch every inch of her was tantalizing; his whole body quivered with barely contained longing. He could not live with this uncertainty much longer. He emerged from his reverie to find Elizabeth regarding him quizzically
. I have been silent for quite a while
, he realized, praying that he was not blushing.
I hope she cannot guess what I am thinking
.

To cover his discomposure Darcy asked a question that had long been on his mind. “How much do you remember of the time when you were ill and feverish?” He asked.

Her eyes gazed at nothing as she thought for a moment. “I remember mostly bits and pieces, but it is difficult to know which things are real and which were the product of a delirious imagination. Although I am pretty sure that the talking lion who offered me tea was not real.” She smiled archly at him.

He chuckled. “I never saw such a creature in your room, so I believe you are correct.” Taking a deep breath, he asked the question that had occupied his every waking thought since her recovery. “How much do you remember of the night before your fever broke?” He held his breath while waiting for her answer and his heart pounded so loudly he was sure she could hear it. Gazing down he noticed that his hands were trembling.

She blushed furiously, telling him that she must remember
something
. “Please forget what I said that night.” The words came out in a rush.

Darcy’s heart sank.
She had changed her mind. She did not love him!
“Why?” He asked.

She was looking everywhere but him. “I was much too…bold…The fever, I am afraid, loosened my tongue…and I said some things…and made assumptions…about your feelings….” Her gaze raised anxiously to his.

Darcy exhaled a relieved breath. Apparently, she did not seem to regret the sentiments themselves, merely the voicing of them. He gazed intently into her delicate brown eyes, willing his eyes to radiate the warmth he felt. “You made no assumptions that were not correct. My affections and wishes are unchanged.” Elizabeth seemed overwhelmed by the intensity of his gaze, and soon turned her gaze away.

He had no way to read her face; her expression was inscrutable. It was agony not knowing what she thought. “My concern,” he continued, “had to do with whether your sentiments had changed. I would not hold you to something you said—”

“—While delirious?” She finished the sentence for him, although her eyes were still fixed on her feet. “I had a fever, but the expression of my sentiments was…accurate.” Finally she looked up, gazing steadily into his eyes. “I do love you.”

Darcy’s heart swooped with joy. “Oh, Elizabeth!” He crushed her to him in a fierce hug that evolved into a tender, lingering kiss.

How could such a simple act create so many sensations everywhere at once? Elizabeth wondered. She tingled all over – in every place their bodies touched, she felt a warm energy spread through her skin. The same sensation she had earlier experienced when he touched her hand now hummed along the entire length of her body, while in the pit of her stomach she experienced a pang, a deep longing. Too soon, Darcy pulled away to look down at her, but he still held her firmly in his arms. “Miss Bennet, will you do me the honor of becoming my wife?”

She smiled at him as a warm serenity spread through her. “Mr. Darcy, I will.”

He reclaimed her lips with a kiss that was more urgent and desperate than the last. His hands rose to her face and then her hair, exploring the curls and threatening to dislodge her hair pins. She did not understand how the simple, gentle sensations from his fingers – while exquisite – could travel through her body, making her weak at the knees and hot all over her skin. Her body pressed against him almost of its own volition, apparently wishing to mold to him until there was no space between them and they felt like one body. They separated only when Elizabeth found herself gasping for breath.

Darcy stared at her in wonderment. “There are no words to describe how this moment. ‘Happy’ is completely inadequate to describe my feelings.”

Elizabeth smiled tenderly at him, enjoying the gentle pressure of his arms still clasping her waist. “I know.” Then she felt suddenly dizzy. Taking a few unsteady steps, she seated herself on one of the garden’s stone benches.

“Forgive me,” Darcy was instantly concerned. “I forgot about your illness. Would you like to return to the house?” Carefully, he settled next to her on the bench, watching her guiltily.

“Please, do not apologize for kissing me like
that
! No woman could possibly object.” He chuckled. Unable to resist, she reached up and kissed him briefly. Inwardly she wondered at her own boldness; not only did she want his kisses, but she wanted more – much more. These sensations were completely wanton, but kissing him felt so good – so absolutely right – that it was hard to resist.

When they separated, Darcy asked, “When would you like to be married?”

She leaned her head on his shoulder, sensing the warmth of his body through his coat. “As soon as possible.”

“I am absolutely in accord.” The enthusiasm in Darcy’s voice was unfeigned. “Perhaps a fortnight after we arrive in England? That should provide sufficient time to make arrangements.”

“If
we make it to England,” Elizabeth said, anxiety surging her through her again.

“Do not worry.” He squeezed her hand reassuringly. “I will ensure we arrive home one way or another.”

Elizabeth said nothing, but gazed out over the garden’s perfect rows of flowers. To Darcy’s eye she seemed a little melancholy.

“Darling, is something amiss? “

“No, no…It is simply that…it will be another week until we can leave and then a day or so of travel…and then another fortnight….” Her voice trailed off.

“Yes?” He prompted, not understanding the source of her distress.

“It simply seems so long to wait – too long.” Blushing a little, she fixed her eyes on her hands.

Darcy’s heart was pounding with joy. He wanted to jump and dance. She could not wait to marry him! The thought flooded his entire body with happiness – and set it afire with aching desire. “I am afraid it cannot be helped.” The calmness of his words belied the wild excitement coursing through him.

She bit her lip in a way that he found completely endearing. Then she gazed into his eyes with an expression that betrayed her anxiety over his reaction to what she was about to say. “William…what if…we could get married here? Now?”

Chapter 7

“Mr. Whitmore could perform the ceremony.” Elizabeth rushed on. Darcy was so shocked he could not speak, his lungs robbed of breath. “We have waited so long…I do not want to delay any further….
You
should not wait. And we have days of travel ahead of us. It will make it easier to travel since we will need no chaperone.”

Darcy’s mind was attempting to grasp the idea. “That is true….” A wry smile twisted his lips. “Everywhere we have traveled people have been assuming you are my wife or—” Too late he realized that he should not have pursued this line of conversation.

“Or—?” She arched her brow curiously at him.

He hesitated, but forged ahead. “Forgive me, my mistress.”

To his astonishment, she laughed. “This is precisely my point! From that perspective a hasty marriage is far better!”

He smiled, but still shook his head. “Elizabeth, everyone will assume that I have compromised you or that you are with child—“

Elizabeth sprang to her feet and started pacing, her slippers crunching the path’s gravel. “Let them!” Then seeing his shocked expression, she said in a softer tone, “William, I almost died. It forced me to consider what is most important in my life – and understand what is missing. I do not wish to wait what society would consider an appropriate amount of time. I want to – seize the moment!” She closed the distance between, pressing herself against his chest; his arms wrapped around her of their own accord, reveling in her softness. With her in his arms, warm and alive, he found it difficult to think about anything else. “I want to start our new life as husband and wife immediately,” she whispered.

He pulled away from her to gaze directly into her eyes. “But, a wedding with no family, no friends…”

Her joyous expression faded slightly. “I will miss Jane, that is true, and my father would have liked to give me away. But, if we marry here it will be a moment just for the two of us. And, truthfully, we will be better off without certain family members….”

Darcy knew she was thinking of some of her more embarrassing relations, but he considered how grateful he would be to do without Aunt Catherine. “Are you certain?”

“I know that I do not wish to wait.”

He bestowed a huge smile on her. “Very well. I will speak to Whitmore today.”

Whitmore seemed a little surprised to find Darcy at his study in the middle of the day, but Darcy explained his purpose right away. “Elizabeth has consented to be my wife.” He could barely contain his sense of ebullience; this moment had been so long in coming.

His friend evinced no surprise, but his face split in a wide grin. “Congratulations, man. This calls for some brandy. I know it is early in the day, but some occasions warrant celebration.” He poured them both glasses.

“You do not seem surprised,” Darcy observed, settling into a stiff-backed chair opposite Whitmore’s desk.

“No one who observed the pair of you the past days would be surprised. I have noticed how you watch her – and how she looks at you.”

This remark took Darcy off guard. “Truly? Does Elizabeth truly—” He was still insecure enough in her love for him that this confirmation of her regard came as a surprise – and a reassurance.

Whitmore chuckled knowingly, refilling their glasses. “You might not have noticed, but Marie and I have. Miss Bennet is as smitten with you as you are with her.”

“I am pleased you think so because I have a favor to beg. Elizabeth’s brush with death has made her eager to – seize the moment. She would like to be wed as soon as possible, before we leave for England.”

Whitmore choked a little on his brandy and set his glass down hastily, taking a moment to absorb the news. “And you concur?”

“I have been waiting for her for a long time. I would prefer not to wait any longer. Plus, being married would mean we could travel more easily. ”

Whitmore was still eyeing him skeptically. “What about your family?”

“Actually there will be a great advantage in arriving home with the wedding
fait accompli
.”

Comprehension dawned on Whitmore’s face. “You are thinking of your aunt?”

Darcy nodded. “And a few other relatives. I would prefer to avoid enduring their attempts to dissuade me because they believe Elizabeth is beneath me. She is infinitely my superior.”

“She is a fortunate woman. I saw how devoted you were to her during her illness.”

Darcy plowed ahead with the conversation. “The favor I would like to ask: we are hoping you would marry us.”

Whitmore seemed to have anticipated the request. “When?”

“As soon as possible. Is it necessary to obtain a special license?”

Whitmore shook his head. “Not in France. I could do it tomorrow if you would prefer.”

“That would be…excellent.”

Whitmore shook his head, chuckling. “I was saying that in jest.”

“I am in earnest, Thomas. The sooner we start our married life, the happier I will be.”

“Very well. I will assemble the papers you need to sign. And I must tell Marie. She will never forgive me if I do not give her some time for preparations.”

After another glass of brandy, Darcy left Whitmore and sought out Elizabeth, who was alone in the parlor reading a book on the fainting couch. Silently he approached and gave her a kiss on the neck. After she started, she gave him a smile so blinding he thought he would never recover. Such a short time ago he believed she would never look at him that way!

He perched on the edge of the couch next to her and she laid down her book. “What did Mr. Whitmore say to our request?”

The smell of her filled his nostrils and the sight of her filled his eyes, while his hands longed to be full of the touch of her skin. Darcy tried to form a coherent sentence. “He was somewhat taken aback by our desire for speed, but not, however, with the fact of our engagement.” Unable to stand it any longer, one hand reached out to caress her neck.