Apprehension and Desire: A Tale of Pride and Prejudice (11 page)

“For me?” Elizabeth asked.

“I stopped in London for a few days to see Georgiana and bought it for you.”

“You should not have...,” she tried to protest, but he pushed the parcel into her hands.

“Of course, I should. I wanted to.”

She weighed the parcel in her hands. “I am not certain whether I should accept it.”

She looked at him and saw that she would give him a great deal of disappointment if she refused the gift. Slowly, she unwrapped the paper, and a silk material fell into her hands. It was a beautiful shawl, in a stunning, rich deep colour of red wine.

“How beautiful,” she gasped.

With the tips of her fingers she touched the material. The silk was of the highest quality. She assumed it had cost a small fortune, certainly more than any piece of clothing she had ever owned, including her very best yellow ball gown. She was not sure how she felt about him giving her such an expensive gift.

“Do you like it?” he asked, as excited as a child.

“Yes,” she admitted reluctantly.

“May I?” he draped the shawl around her shoulders. “The colour suits you very well.”

“I did not know you were an expert in women's fashions, sir.” she teased.

He grinned. “I am not. I went to the shop where my sister usually makes her purchases. I told the owner I was looking for something for a young lady. I described your looks, and she assured me that this colour would match well with your chocolate curls, dark eyes and pale skin. I am very pleased to see that she was right.”

“Thank you.” She lifted on her toes and kissed his cheek. “I will wear it with pleasure.”

***

“Oh, Jane I think that he wants to buy me.” Elizabeth complained later when she was alone with Jane in their room upstairs. Mr. Darcy bade her goodbye in front of the house, saying he had to deal with some matters in Meryton before dark.

“Lizzy, I think he just wanted to buy you something nice. You read too much into it. Imagine the situation when you are in London with all the wonderful shops around you and with unlimited resources. Would you not want buy something for me, Mama, Papa, Mary, Kitty and Lydia?”

“Of course, I would.”

“He has a much younger sister, am I right?”

“Yes.”

“We can safely assume then that he likes to spoil her, buy her nice things. He sees nothing wrong with doing the same when it comes to you. I know your independent spirit, Lizzy, and your pride, but think about all the time and thought which he had to devote to the idea of buying you this. He chose it by himself, thinking only of you.”

“It must have been frightfully expensive. It will stand out against my plainer gowns.”

“I am sure he did not want to embarrass you. He is simply used to buying the very best.”

Elizabeth wrapped the shawl around herself and touched the soft material to her face.  Then she took it off, spread it on her bed and folded it neatly. There was a knock on the door and Mrs. Bennet appeared.

“Lizzy, I came to ask how your walk with Mr. Darcy was. He did not want to stay for tea with us? Was he displeased?”

Elizabeth looked at her mother, her compassionate heart tugging at the woman’s worried expression. She could not tell her that her future son-in-law considered himself above them all.

”No, Mama. He came here straight from London. He did not want to be rude, but I think he was tired after the journey and needed to see to some matters in Meryton yet today.”

“Oh,” Mrs. Bennet said, her expression still unsure.

Jane wanted to redirect her mother’s attention, so she pointed to the shawl. “Look, Mama, what Lizzy got from Mr. Darcy.”

Mrs. Bennet came closer to the bed and saw the silk shawl. “What is that?” She took the shawl and started to admire it from every side. “How beautiful!” she exclaimed, “Surely very expensive!”

“I think that it’s too expensive, Mama,” Elizabeth pointed out. “I am not certain whether I should accept it.”

“Or course, you should! Silly girl. Such a generous man.” She put the shawl to Lizzy’s face. “Look how it suits your complexion. He must have picked it out by himself, thinking of you. You should appreciate it, such caring. Your father never in his life thought about buying me anything so beautiful as this gift.”

“Mama, we are not even officially engaged.”

“Just because of your father’s stubbornness.”

“Nevertheless, I think people should not be aware he gave me such an expensive gift.”

“Lizzy is right, Mama.” Jane said in her most serious tone. “I am sure that Mr. Darcy would not wish any improper gossip to circulate about him or his future wife.”

Mrs. Bennet thought for a moment. “You are right, Jane. No one should know for the time being how generous towards Lizzy he is. Everyone is already green with envy that you secured such a man for yourself. You will wear it, of course, to make him happy, but no one needs to know it is a gift from Mr. Darcy.”

“What about Kitty and Lydia, Mama?” Elizabeth asked apprehensively. “I doubt they could keep it to themselves.”

“Leave them to me. I will tell them... I will think what to tell them so they will stay quiet about it.”

She reached her hand to squeeze Elizabeth’s cheek. “Such a generous man, Lizzy,” she repeated, and left the room.

After breakfast the following morning, Jane and Elizabeth, enveloped in large aprons, started on the long postponed task of preparing baskets for the tenants’ families. They hoped to distribute them later in the afternoon. Concentrating on their work, in quiet tones, they spoke about the man who had been the main subject of their conversations recently, Mr. Darcy.

“You shall see for yourself, Lizzy, that he is not that bad at all,” Jane said after Elizabeth had told her what she had heard from Mr. Darcy yesterday. “The fact that Mr. Darcy does not condemn his cousin, only tries to understand his difficult situation, proves that he cares deeply about his relatives and can be very sympathetic.”

“I must say I was truly astonished with his attitude on this matter. I always thought him to be a man who sees everything only as black or white, without any doubt,” Elizabeth said as she wrapped the hocks of ham into the white clean rags, so Jane could put them into baskets. “He seemed so human.”

“Lizzy,” Jane laughed. “You talk about him as if he were of some different species.”

Elizabeth finished with the ham and went to wash her hands. Mr. Darcy was a human, of course, a warm, strong, living man, with a deep voice, who affected her more than she was ready to acknowledge. Every time she had closed her eyes last evening, determined to fall asleep, she had memories of how he had held and kissed her. Only a month ago, she had hated the man. Hatred was too strong a word, perhaps, but she had sincerely disliked him and now...

“What I cannot understand is why he treated Mr. Wickham so poorly,” she cried in frustration, lathering her hands with energy.

“I have already told you that we know only one side of the story,” Jane reminded her. “I think that you should ask Mr. Darcy about this matter. He should have an opportunity to defend himself, explain what happened from his perspective.”

Before Elizabeth could answer, the voice of their mother was heard, speaking loudly.

“After me, Mr. Darcy! She will be a most excellent wife to you! She knows everything about running a house. I taught her myself!”

Mrs. Bennet hurried into the room with a very sober looking Mr. Darcy behind her.

“Here she is, Mr. Darcy.” Mrs. Bennet made a wide gesture in the direction of Elizabeth, who was drying her hands with a clean cloth. “As you see, sir, she is making the baskets for the tenants.”

“Miss Bennet, Miss Elizabeth,” Darcy bowed.

The girls curtseyed in response, Elizabeth's face turning beetroot red at her mother’s crassness.

Mrs. Bennet, standing next to her second daughter, winked at her. “Mr. Darcy wants to take you for a walk again, Lizzy,” she announced in a theatrical whisper.

“Mama,...” Elizabeth murmured, not knowing where to hide her eyes.

Seeing her sister’s discomposure, Jane spoke. “Mama, we were to distribute the baskets today.”

“Lydia and Mary will go with you, Jane.” Mrs. Bennet dismissed her worry, untying Elizabeth’s apron. “Kitty will accompany Mr. Darcy and Lizzy on their walk. Now, Lizzy, run upstairs to prepare yourself, and do remember to wear the shawl Mr. Darcy was so kind to give you.”

The matron walked to Darcy. “I think that the walk to Oakham Mount is an excellent idea, do you not think so, sir? A nice, long walk.”

Darcy nodded. “I agree, madam. I have heard that the view from that spot is spectacular, and I have not yet had the opportunity to admire it.”

“Excellent, excellent!” Mrs. Bennet smiled widely at the man, receiving only a severe frown in return.

Elizabeth came to the conclusion that it was a high time to separate her mother from her intended.

“Mr. Darcy.” She approached him with smile. “Let us go to the foyer. I will call Kitty and go upstairs to change into more appropriate attire.”

Darcy smiled down at her, bowed in front of Mrs. Bennet and Jane, and turned to the entrance.

Mrs. Bennet gave Elizabeth a worried look, whispering, “Is he displeased with something?”

“I do not think so, Mama.” Elizabeth whispered back. She felt sorry of her mother, who, she knew, had tried hard to please the man. Mrs. Bennet’s intentions were the best, and despite her faults, she did not deserve such rude, cold treatment from Darcy.

She glanced at Darcy, who was waiting for her in the doorway. Taking a deep breath, she walked to him with a polite smile.

Darcy let her go first as they walked through the narrow, darkened hall leading from the kitchens area to the main part of the house. At one moment, she felt his hand on her hip, later her waist, and his mouth at the back of her neck.

She stopped and, in semi darkness, turned her head to look up into his face. She did not manage to say anything, because his mouth captured hers, as he pushed her against the wall.

At first she did not know how to react, astonished with his unexpected act. His kisses were gentle and tentative, so after a moment she responded in kind, tilting her face to give him better access.

“Lizzy,” she heard him groan her name, and he pushed his body against hers more aggressively.

Her eyes popped open as he pushed his tongue inside her mouth. It happened so quickly, without warning, that she was not prepared for the invasion and broke the kiss, turning her face away to the side.

“Sweet,” he murmured, as his face dipped into her throat, sucking there.

Elizabeth began to take deep breaths, not a bit concerned that he was losing his control, and she could do little to stop him. She was torn, what he did to her gave her wonderful sensations, his body next to hers, so hard and warm, rubbing against her  and pushing her against the wall. She did not want to stop, but at the same time, she was afraid of the unknown.

His mouth once again covered hers, in one long, deep, drugging kiss, which she accepted more graciously this time. When one large hand cupped her breast and squeezed, she tore away from him.

“Stop,” she exclaimed in a croaked whisper, “Please.”

She rushed away from him, trying to compose herself. It was too much, too fast. She knew that something happened, and they had gone too far, because she felt uncomfortable all over, her breasts tingling, the wetness pooling between her thighs.

It took her a long moment to take her courage and look at him. He was leaning against the wall, his breathing still laboured, and then unexpectedly, he hit the wall with his fist, muffled words escaping him. She thought she heard „I am no better than Wickham.”

She eyed him wearily as he walked to her.

“Forgive me, Elizabeth. I have nothing to defend myself. You deserve so much better.”

“You scared me,” she said, still unsure of him.

“I know,” he reached for her hand and clasped it as if it was made of the finest China. “I swear it will never happen again.”

Elizabeth nodded only,   then pulled her hand away from him.

“Let us go,” she whispered and stepped forward, without looking back.

***

Darcy paced the foyer, waiting for Elizabeth, who was taking so much time in her room. He would have not been surprised if she had refused to go with him anywhere today. He had treated her worse than.... You are an idiot and a rake! Like a bull in heat! It screamed in his mind. His father would be rolling in his grave if he could see him now. Elizabeth was his future wife, an innocent, a lady; she deserved respect, patience, caring – and he had nearly taken her against the wall in her parents’ home. The desire he felt for her, and the long years of abstinence, could not justify his scandalous behaviour.

At last he saw her on the landing of the staircase with her younger sister Kitty. Her face looked as if it was freshly scrubbed, and she had on a different dress. She did not wear the shawl he had given her, only her pale blue spencer. Definitely not a good sign.

Darcy tried to read her face, to gaze into her eyes, but she avoided looking at him, her posture stiff and unwelcoming.

“May we go?” he asked.

Elizabeth nodded, her eyes lowered, as she put on her gloves. “We may.”

Kitty said nothing at all, her eyes pointed to the limestone tiled floor. Darcy suspected that the girl was, as she should be, embarrassed with the night’s escapade to his bedroom door at his last visit.

Darcy wanted to offer his arm to Elizabeth, but, instead, he decided to postpone it for a while, not being quite sure whether she would accept it.  They were about to go out, the butler opening the door for them, when Mrs. Bennet fled down the stairs.

“Lizzy, Lizzy child, you forgot your shawl!” she cried, out of breath as she approached them.

“Thank you, Mama.” Elizabeth stared at the shawl for a moment, then took it and wrapped it around herself tightly, stepping out of the house.

Elizabeth set off at such a brisk pace that Darcy and Kitty needed to jog a few yards to catch up with her.

Darcy wished to talk to her, apologize, assure himself that she was not afraid of him, but the presence of the younger sister close behind them made it all impossible. He understood that Elizabeth preferred not to be alone with him after what had transpired. She still refused to look in his direction, her head pointed to the fields on the opposite side of the road.

“Lizzy,” Darcy heard the small voice from behind his back. “Can I stop at the Lucases to visit Maria? It is such a long walk to Oakham Mount. You know it tires me to walk so far.”

Elizabeth glanced at Darcy. He was sure she would refuse to be left alone with him.

“Of course, Kitty.” She smiled at the younger girl. “We will stop to pick you up on our way back.”

“Thank you, Lizzy.” Kitty cried and sprinted down the path on the right leading to Lucas Lodge.

Darcy and Elizabeth resumed their walk without a word. After five minutes of silence, Darcy touched her arm, stopping them.

“Please, Lizzy, say you have forgiven me.”

At last she looked up at him from the rim of her straw bonnet.

“You should have not done that. What if my father had come, or one of my sisters, or a servant was passing by?” she cried in earnest, “How would I be able to look into their eyes later on?”

“I know, love. You are perfectly right.” His hands rested on her shoulders and then moved down her arms to her palms, stroking the uncovered skin of her wrist between her glove and the sleeve. “I want you so much, Lizzy. I... forgot myself.”

“I am not your wife, sir, not yet,” Elizabeth reminded him in a firm voice, “You cannot do whatever you want, whenever you wish to.  I do not know much about these matters... and cannot guess what you will do next. I know you too little to...” She blushed. “I am not ready to...”  She took a deep breath, lifted her chin, and spoke with dignity. “I do not want to be treated like this.”

Darcy had a gulp growing in his throat. In front of him stood the woman he loved, asking him to respect her. What Darcy felt could be only compared to the last time his father had disciplined him for some misbehaviour when he had been yet a lad, only it was much worse this time.

He swallowed. “Elizabeth, I swear on my honour, on the memory of my parents, on Georgiana, that I will never try to touch you in an intimate way, kiss you unless you tell me so directly or show me that you desire it.”

Her pretty face covered with a lovely blush as he was speaking about touching her intimately. She took a long moment to look into his eyes, as if checking whether he was serious.

She smiled at last, her usual, easy smile. “Let us forget about it then.”

As if the stone was thrown off  his heart, the relief at her forgiveness was great.

“Thank you, dear,” he reached for her hand and squeezed it.

“If you are not afraid of the mud, Mr. Darcy, I suggest taking a shortcut across the pastures.” she proposed. “I dare say it is much more picturesque.”

Darcy agreed readily, stepping after her off the main road they had walked so far. He noticed, of course, that he had become ‘Mr. Darcy’ again, but decided not to comment on that. He did not want to test his good luck. She would surely start using his given name when she felt ready and not pressured into it.

On their way, they needed to cross several fences separating the fields. Darcy insisted on going first, like once in Kent, to help her down on the other side. At first she tried to argue that she was perfectly capable of climbing over the fence on her own, as she had done it all her life. Eventually she grudgingly – and with a discreet roll of her eyes – allowed herself to be helped.

He had never met a more stubborn and independent female, to be sure.

When they were crossing the first border, Darcy limited himself to supporting her arm as she jumped down, but at the next ones, he simply chose to put his hands on her waist and lift her down. He thought it safer and easier, not to mention more painfully pleasurable for him. Having her in his hands for a moment or two, so warm and soft, her sweet scent mixed with her sweat  was a sheer torture. She gave him a sharp look when he placed his hands on her middle the first time. But when he did not try to do anything more, and his hands did not linger on her body longer than necessary as he put her on the ground, she calmed down and did not protest the procedure at the next obstacle.