Chapter 21
A ray of sunlight
entered through the curtains illuminating the room with a dim light. In their
bed, the lovers rested with the peacefulness which usually follows a night of
lovemaking.
Elizabeth was the
first one to wake up, stirred by the unusual but very pleasant sensation of a
heavy arm wrapped around her and the warmth of a masculine body so close to hers.
Lying by her side, her husband was still asleep. Yes, her husband. And she was
now his wife, in every sense. Now she understood the meaning of the word, what
it meant to belong, to possess, to be possessed, to share. Last night he had
loved her, pleasured her, stripped her from her modesty and showed her the
secrets of the union between lovers, between man and wife. Last night he had
been the most gentle of gentlemen, considerate, loving, meticulous and even
deliberate in the art of lovemaking but also a passionate lover. He made her
feel things she had never experienced and taught her pleasures she had never
imagined that existed.
Blush spread over
her cheeks as she recalled the activities in which they had been engaged during
a great part of the night. The first time, his tentative advance, her
apprehensiveness, his tenderness. She had not been at all comfortable with what
was happening, the initial pain had been intense and her own desire for him was
embarrassing her. Then came the awkwardness of parting from each other, the
sweat, the blood, his seed draining out of her. He left the room for a moment,
allowing her some time to refresh herself, to compose herself and then they sat
together on the window seat. They talked, they held each other. The natural
thing to do then was to make love again. His ardour was awakened and he
dutifully stirred hers. They made love intently, naked and unreserved and this
time there was no embarrassment or pain. This time she did not silence her
cries of pleasure and he gave free reign to his. They made love like lovers do.
She glanced at the
state of the bed and she could not repress a smile from coming to her lips. Her
husband, entangled in the sheets, was quite a sight, too. It was so strange to
see him like this, dishevelled and relaxed against his usually sober and neat
appearance. She had always thought him to be handsome, but to see him like this
au
naturel, was a very welcomed change, certainly a most pleasant
sight. Taking care not to wake him up, Elizabeth
adjusted the blankets around her and moved closer to him.
“I want my horse saddled
immediately,” Darcy said suddenly.
Elizabeth’s lips
twisted up in amusement.
“No, no, the
green one.”
So the man that was
so taciturn when awake was an avid talker when asleep? Elizabeth
giggled, there was no way she would repress her mirth after such an exhibition.
Her movements awakened her husband and a sleepy Darcy raised his head. He
blinked several times and smiled when his eyes met hers. He fell back on the
pillow and caressed her arm with his fingertips.
“Good
morning, my love,” his voice was hoarse.
“Good
morning.”
“May I
inquire what is that you find so amusing?”
“You talk in
your sleep,” she said in a sweet voice.
“That’s
impossible.”
“How do you
know?”
“I just
know.”
“Oh, yes, you
do. You just asked for your horse to be saddled.”
He rolled onto his
back, taking her with him so her head would lie on his shoulder. This move
partially uncovered Elizabeth and himself.
“Elizabeth,” he
chuckled at her efforts to keep them both a decent sight, “what are you
doing?”
She succeeded in
covering her back and rear, but this exposed one of his legs and … almost
the rest. “Someone may come.”
“Who?”
“My maid, for
sure,” she pulled the blankets over him. “She comes every morning
and asks if I want some tea before assisting me to dress.”
Darcy helped her to
accomplish the task and put her arm around his waist as he accommodated her
body next to his. “After what happened last night? I do not think she
would dare to enter your chambers if you do not ring for her first.”
Elizabeth frowned,
unconvinced after his explanation. Her maid was quite constant in her routine.
“Come here,
dearest,” he whispered as he hugged her close to him. He gave her a long,
lingering kiss as his hand traced her spine under the covers. Elizabeth responded with the same tenderness,
but the kiss was abruptly ended when they heard noises coming from her dressing
room.
“Elsie?”
Elizabeth asked
tentatively.
“Good morning
madam,” the maid replied as she picked up Elizabeth’s clothes in the adjoining
room. The mistress could hear her footsteps approaching. “Would you like
to drink some tea before getting dressed?”
“I thank you,
but no,” it was Darcy the one who replied. “I shall drink it
downstairs.”
The couple heard a
loud gasp and the door that separated the dressing room from the
mistress’ chambers was closed two seconds later.
“William!”
Elizabeth was
still in shock.
In one swift move,
Darcy rolled over her. “That will teach her to wait until she is
called.”
This was one of the
rare occasions when Georgiana reached the breakfast room before her brother and
sister. The couple arrived quite late, with an odd look on their faces and said
a quiet good morning to Miss Darcy as they took their seats at the table. Their
interaction was unusual enough as to draw the girl’s attention and Miss
Darcy was left to wonder what might have caused this uncommon behaviour. Darcy
attacked his breakfast with a voracity that was uncommon in him and Elizabeth alternated
small bites of her meal with loving glances at her husband, who returned them
with equal adoration.
Darcy, after
informing that he had matters to attend with his steward, excused himself from
the ladies. “I shall return by noon,” he told his wife as he rose.
“We can go for a walk in the park later, if that is agreeable to
you.”
“I shall be
delighted,” she smiled.
Once again Miss
Darcy was surprised by the behaviour of her otherwise circumspect brother. He
kissed both ladies’ cheeks before departing.
“William is
in much better spirits this morning,” Georgiana commented after her
brother left. “I wonder what happened to him.”
Elizabeth sipped her tea,
hoping that her sister would not notice the blush that was warming her cheeks.
“After what
happened yesterday,” Miss Darcy proceeded, “I thought that his dark
mood would last forever. That fire at the mill had him most preoccupied.”
“What
Fire?” Elizabeth
looked up.
“There was a
fire that occurred on the night of his arrival. I understand it was put off by
the time he got there.”
“I
didn’t know,” Mrs. Darcy replied, shocked by this intelligence.
“That is why
he was so dreadfully serious yesterday and left so early in the morning. I
believe there was not much damage. Thank Heavens it did not affect him that
much and he recovered his spirits rather quickly. William can turn very
fastidious when concerned about something.”
Elizabeth silently buttered
her toast. If only Georgiana knew the reason for her brother’s excellent
mood in this particular morning!
Georgiana continued
to talk, this time telling her sister of the figurines she had just received
from her dressmaker in London.
But Elizabeth
could not pay her any attention, her mind entertained with other concerns that
she considered of much greater importance than Miss Darcy’s preference
for lace and velvet. Once again she had mistaken her husband’s attitude.
Indeed, she had developed an extraordinary capacity to misconstrue Darcy’s
behaviour and assume the worst. With no fundamental reason or proof, only
because she noticed certain aloofness from Darcy’s part upon his return
home, she, without hesitation or doubt, had declared his detachment to be the
product of his desire to annul their marriage and confronted him on the
subject. Not once had she paused to think if there might be other reasons for
his unseeing behaviour and had voiced a petition that most certainly must have
caused him enormous distress.
How much she had
mistaken his true nature! How impulsively she had acted! This was a lesson of
humility that she would never forget. She was a married woman of one and
twenty, the mistress of a grand estate, the wife of an illustrious gentleman.
It was time to leave her childishness and impulsiveness behind and behave like
the lady she ought to be.
True to his word,
Darcy returned from his errand and readily took his wife to the park for a
stroll through the beautiful gardens of Pemberley. He guided her across his
favourite path, one that she was also particularly fond of, sheltered by a long
line of Spanish oaks. She had her arm around his waist, his was around her
shoulders and they both sported dreamy smiles on their faces.
“Elizabeth, may I ask you a question?”
Darcy enquired as they entered the grove.
“Of course.”
“Why on earth did you
think I wanted an annulment?” Darcy asked bluntly, without a hint of
reproach in his voice. He was exceedingly puzzled that she had thought he might
want to get rid of her when he –according to his own interpretation-- had
repeatedly shown her how much he appreciated her company. Perhaps he had not
been effective in transmitting his affection in the past and if that had been
the case, he did not want to repeat his old mistakes. A lesson in husbandly
behaviour might be necessary in order to give his wife a better assurance of
his attachment to her.
Elizabeth had expected this
question to come, but not so soon after their reconciliation and blushed in
embarrassment at her own stupidity for thinking that such had been her
husband’s wish. “Oh, dear, what must you think of me?”
To this he chuckled as he held
her close to him. “That you look beautiful when you are this
flushed.”
The joke did very little to
ease her mortification. “I should have been more understanding and less
judgemental of your attitude. You were so serious and detached when you arrived
that I believed you were displeased with my sister’s behaviour and that
you wanted to end every connection to her and her husband. When you did not come
down for dinner and left directly in the following day, I thought you did not
want to be close to me. I was not informed about the fire until this very
morning and when I learned you were gone, I imagined I was the cause of your
departure. Will you forgive me for thinking so ill of you?”
“My love, I am the one
that should be begging for forgiveness! It was my attitude what had driven you
to form that erroneous conclusion. I should have been more considerate upon my
arrival and I apologize for neglecting you. My behaviour was inexcusable. I had
a most eventful journey and was truly fatigued when I arrived home. The moment
I lay my head on the pillow I fell asleep and did not wake up until the
following day. ”
“So you rode in the
rain, for me?” Elizabeth
asked, her playfulness somehow restored after his explanation.
“And I would do it
again, if I knew you were waiting for me.” He looked at her with loving
eyes.
Elizabeth smiled at him and
he gave her a quick kiss. “I received two letters from Longbourn today.
One from Jane and one from my father.”
“Good news, I
hope?”
“Oh yes, my father told
me that they received a note from Lydia informing them she and her
husband had already reached their destination. It seems that Wickham has
purchased a commission in the Regulars and they will be stationed in ---shire
for some time.”
“Hmm, good for
them,” Darcy looked down at the ground.
Knowing his dislike for that
subject, Elizabeth
brought up a more pleasant one. “Jane told me they are already planning
the wedding. Poor Jane, my mother is driving her mad with her nerves. If she is
acting as nonsensical as she was when she was planning our wedding I fear that
Jane will …” she trailed off as she realized that she was bringing
up a painful memory.
Darcy sighed, his eyes fixed
on the path ahead. “I know that you did not deserve to be married the way
you were. I am ashamed of what I did then. If I could turn back the clock, I am
certain I would do things differently this time.”
“Let us forget about
those days, we should think of the past only if it gives us pleasure.”
He shook his head. “As
much as I would like to forget it, I know I never will. ‘Had you behaved
in a more gentlemanlike manner’, you said. You were so right in your
reproof. My behaviour towards you at the time was unpardonable. I cannot think
of it without abhorrence.”
“You were not the only
one whose conduct was reproachable. I deceived you and treated you very
unkindly in the first days of our marriage.”
“No, you were right in
everything you said. I had been a very selfish being all my life. I was raised
with good principles but followed them with pride and conceit. But you changed
all that, dearest, you taught me a lesson, hard to accept at
first, but one that I needed to learn. You made me face my own failures and showed me
how wrong I was. If I am a better person now, it is because of you. ”
That was a subject too painful
to be discussed any further so they walked in comfortable silence for a while.
The path made a turn towards the bridge and as they crossed it, Elizabeth asked,
“I have a question to
ask you, too.”
He glanced at her.
“It is about your
letter. Why did you wait so long to give it to me? It would have helped to
settle things earlier. I accused you of things for which you were not
responsible and held them against you for too long a time. Had I known the
truth sooner, things might have been different.”
He shrugged. “I am not
certain why I kept it for so long. Perhaps I was afraid that you would not
believe my words. The pain was too fresh to risk bringing all those sad
memories back again. Then I almost forgot about it, until the day I
left.”
“Yes, maybe it was for
the best. We both needed some time apart to reflect on what we wanted. I say
that the letter and those days of separation did a lot to improve my opinion of
you.”
“I am glad that I made
the right decision, then.”
Elizabeth lifted her face to
his and he gave her the kiss she was demanding. Here, they left the lane and
crossed the lawn in the direction of the lake. Elizabeth stopped to pick up some wild
flowers under the vigilance of her enamoured husband. She had formed a lovely
bouquet of buttercups and brought it close to her nose with a coquettish glance
at him.
“When did you fall in
love with me?”
He grinned; she was the
picture of loveliness. “I cannot recall the precise moment, but I assure
you, it was very early in our acquaintance. Before I realize it was happening,
I was already in love.”
She pursed her lips, not
convinced by his words. “My beauty you had early withstood, and as for my
manners, they were far from appropriate. I abused you in such abominable way
that I cannot understand how is that you have continued to love me all this
time.”
“You brought light and
passion into my life. Though I was hurt for some time,” he stepped closer
and held her in his arms, “I never stopped loving you. I was decided to
win your love no matter how much it would cost. And you? When did you fall in
love with me? I know you did not love me when you married me.” He
chuckled at the blush that had suddenly reddened her cheeks. “In fact,
you hated me.”
Very embarrassed, Elizabeth answered.
“I do not know precisely, it came on so gradually. But what I know is
that I was never indifferent towards you. You were always vexing me or annoying
or unsettling me. But I believe I began
to like you the first time I saw you laugh.”
Darcy raised his eyebrows.
“And when was that?”
“The night before your
departure to Wales,
when I played that duet together with Georgiana. I found you quite handsome at
the time, very agreeable. That was the day when I realized that I did not
dislike you at all.”
“So you did not dislike me at that time,” he
smiled, “but when did that sentiment change into love?”
“I am not certain, I
told you, but I know that when I gave you the handkerchief I was already in
love.”
Darcy tried to recall the
precise date. It was soon after their arrival at Pemberley, before the
Gardiners’ visit. “That was more than a month ago. How insensible
of me. Had I known ...”
“Do not blame yourself.
I am not certain that we were ready to understand each other as we do
now.”
“I believe I would not change anything
that I have lived by your side.” He paused and frowned. “Well,
perhaps just one thing or two.” Elizabeth giggled and he kissed the top
of her head. “Bingley has written to me too; he has invited us to stay at
Netherfield before the wedding. When would you like to go? If it pleases you,
we can journey to Hertfordshire in a week or two. I know that you miss your
family.”
“I miss them dearly, but
I will rather stay here for some time with you, now that we ...” She
blushed and looked down.
Darcy lowered his lips to her
ear, sending tickles all through her body. “Now that we are truly husband
and wife?”
“Now that we discovered
our love for each other,” she was bold enough to say, “I would
rather not share you with anyone ... for a while.”
He was overwhelmed by her
confession and reacted in the only manner he knew. He brought her closer to him
and gave her a soft, sensuous kiss. “Beware, madam, do not express such
thoughts while we are so far away from the house,” he murmured into her
ear, “It arouses in me the urge to love you and if you continue with
this, I shall carry you through the park and towards your chambers in the same
manner I did last night.”
She was delighted. “Mr.
Darcy! Would you do that?”
“I am a man of my word.
Do not challenge me, for very little provocation will suffice.”
They were both smiling when
their faces got closer for a kiss that promised to be hungry and naughty. His
lips touched hers and as he brought his hand up to cup her cheek, Elizabeth
raised her arm to embrace his neck, bumping the edgy bone of her wrist against
Darcy’s broken knuckles. Until now Darcy had managed to conceal his
injury from her but this time he could not react fast enough and gasped in
pain.
“What happened?”
Elizabeth enquired, preoccupied.
“Nothing,” Darcy
quickly moved his hand out of her view.
“You sounded
hurt.”
“I’m fine.”
He hid it behind his back.
“You weren’t just
now. William, is there anything wrong?”
“Not at all. Well, my
hand hurts a little. It must have been the long ride.”
Darcy’s words
made Elizabeth recollect a passage of her father’s letter where he
enquired after the progress of her husband’s injured hand. She had
thought of asking Darcy later, but now that the subject was brought up by the
man himself, she saw no reason to delay the disclosure.
“It cannot be. My father
inquired if your hand was already healed, which means you were hurt when you
left London.”
“It was ...” His
eyes looked everywhere but her face.
“Let me see it.”
Darcy showed her his healthy
hand, hoping that her curiosity would be satisfied and that she would drop the
subject entirely.
“’Twas the other
one.”
He reluctantly gave her his
right hand. As she examined it carefully, Elizabeth noticed his swollen
knuckles and traces of what had been a large bruise. She brushed her fingertips
over the swell, making Darcy wince almost imperceptibly. How was that she had
not noticed it before?
“I am not a doctor, but
the bone appears to be broken.”
“It’s healing just
fine, there is no reason for concern.” Darcy tried to explain without
giving much information.
“What happened?”
She insisted.
“It was an
accident.”
“What sort of accident?
“I … I
accidentally hit something.” He almost mumbled, resembling more like a
child that was caught in mischief by his observant mother than the Master of a
grand estate.
Having witnessed a boxing
lesson before and knowing how violent the sport could get, Elizabeth was at
loss for what might have caused an injury of this magnitude. In his previous
boxing matches, Darcy had come out without severe wounds to lament
–except that one cut on his lip when he was distracted by her presence--,
even less in his hands, which were usually protected by wraps.
“How can you
accidentally hit something? Pray tell, what exactly did you hit?”
“Wickham’s
face,” he answered sheepishly.
She gasped. “Why?”
“He deserved it.”
And then he covered her mouth
with his, preventing any further questioning on that subject.
Darcy avoided the subject of
Wickham during dinner –Elizabeth would never address the topic in front
of Georgiana—and later, after they retired, efficiently distracted
Elizabeth with other activities that were far more pleasurable than discussing
the rascal that had brought them so much misery in the past. Upon her enquiry,
Darcy vaguely mentioned meeting the officer before the wedding, and just as she
asked for more details on this encounter, Darcy proceeded to nibble her neck,
making her forget completely what she was asking and why. Elizabeth did not
insist on the matter later as she and her husband were too happy planning their
future and learning little things about each other to ruin this new acquired
felicity by constantly bringing up the unpleasant subject of Mr. Wickham. But
being a curious woman, Elizabeth could not live in ignorance and decided that if
she would not learn the truth from her evasive husband, she could at least try
to collect information from a more collaborative source. If there was something
more behind Darcy’s broken hand, her aunt Gardiner surely would know.
Elizabeth had
the satisfaction of receiving an answer to her letter as soon as she possibly
could
and her doubts were readily evacuated. She learned, in full detail,
Darcy’s role in the recuperation of Lydia and his efforts to produce her
marriage to Mr. Wickham.
“… He did not extend
himself on the particulars of how he broke his hand and asWickham also sported
an ugly bruise in his face when he and Lydia were brought to us, I imagine Darcy suffered some provocation from
Wickham’s side. Your husband does not seem a violent man.
Nothing was to be done that Darcy did
not do himself. Wickham’s debts were paid, amounting, I believe, to
considerably more than a thousand pounds, another thousand in addition to her
own settled upon her, and his commission purchased. Both your father and uncle
battled Darcy for a long time on this respect, which was more than either the
gentleman or lady concerned in it deserved.
But at last they were forced to yield, and instead of being allowed to
be of use to Lydia, they were forced by your excellent husband to put up with
only having the probable credit of it. Your letter this morning gave me and
your uncle great pleasure for now we are allow to give praise where it is due.
The reason why all this was to be
done by him alone, was readily explained. Darcy said that it was owing to him,
to his reserve and want of proper consideration, that Wickham's character had
been so misunderstood, and consequently that he had been received and noticed
as he was. Perhaps there was some truth
in this; though I doubt whether his reserve, or anybody's reserve, can be
answerable for the event. Once the matter was settled, Darcy made us promise
that not one word of his intervention on this sad affair would be transmitted
to you. As for why he requested this, I can only guess, although I assume that
him not wishing to give you more reasons for distress must have been his first
motivation. His second one must have been the deep affection he professes for
you as I have never seen a young husband more anxious to return home to his
wife...’
The content of the letter
threw Elizabeth into a flutter of spirits, but soon this sentiment turned into
shame as she acknowledged the reprehensible behaviour that her husband’s
honourable quest had inspired on her. Darcy left Pemberley with a noble
pursuit, he embarked himself in the most
unpleasant search of finding and finally bribing the man whose very name was a
punishment for him to pronounce and marry him to a woman he surely abominate
and despised, and all the time, Elizabeth had thought he was leaving her!
For herself she was humbled;
but she was proud of him. Certainly he had done much. Elizabeth was ashamed to
think how much. She understood that Darcy’s great sense of what was right
and wrong had probably been his principal inducement, but, like her aunt
insinuated, Elizabeth intuited that he had also done it for her. And this only
served to increase her mortification because all that time he had been serving
his honourable cause she had doubted not only his affection, but also his
nobility and his strong sense of duty towards those for whom he cared.
Decided to rectify this
situation as soon as may be, Elizabeth was roused from her seat and strode to
her husband’s study to clear this one last misunderstanding and thank him
for all he had done.
Darcy was sitting at the desk,
reading a letter when Elizabeth entered. Without saying a word, she went
directly to his chair and gave him a long, sweet kiss.
“Mmmmm,” the
astonished husband was still savouring the kiss on his mouth. “May I
inquire to what do I owe this delightful display of affection?”
“It is a sign of
gratitude for what you did. You are the very best of men. Thank you.”
“At your service,
Madam.” There was a world of wickedness in his smile. “I think I
will face the most impossible tasks if I am to be rewarded in this manner every
time. And, pray, what action of mine has inspired your gratitude on this
occasion?”
“You found Wickham,
arranged his marriage to Lydia and restored my family’s honour,”
she acknowledged.
Darcy leaned back on the
chair, his smile gone. “Who told you that?”
“My Aunt Gardiner
...”
Darcy rose and walked around
the desk, putting some distance between them. “I did not know she was so
little to be trusted. I am sorry you were acquainted with a situation that, if
seen in mistaken light, might have caused you uneasiness.”
“Please do not blame my
aunt,” Elizabeth begged. “Once you told me about your hand and how
you got it broken, I could not rest until I learnt all the truth. Why did you
keep that from me? Why did you not tell me the true reason for your
departure?”
He hesitated, not sure she
would understand why he chose not to tell her. “I was not certain of my
success. I did not want to raise your hopes on a subject that was causing so
much distress.”
“But you succeeded, and
yet you did not tell me! All that time I tortured myself with the thought that
you were gone to London with the only purpose of annulling our marriage!”
“I never imagined you
would think me capable of that,” he replied with feeling.
Elizabeth felt as if an
enormous breach was forming between them and expressed herself with the
frustration the situation generated in her. “I once again misunderstood
your attitude and misjudged you.”
There was so much hurt in her
voice that Darcy could not help but feel ashamed for, once again, being the
cause of her suffering. Only now he realized the misery she must have endured
for believing him gone because of her. “I am so sorry, my love, it was a
mistake, a wretched mistake. I should have acquainted you with my plans. Will
you ever be able to forgive me?”
Elizabeth saw true repentance
in his eyes. She was not willing to permit her anguish to grow out of
proportion and allow this subject to ruin the felicity that she and her husband
had acquired after so much struggling. Here they were, quarrelling over
something that, for the better or the worse, was what had triggered their
current understanding. She was able to find amusement in a situation that was,
now that it was already cleared, exceedingly ridiculous.
“We are a hopeless case,
are we not?”
Darcy sighed and walked
towards her. He put his hands around her waist as he agreed with her statement.
“Indeed we are helpless.
Did you realize all the despair we would have spared ourselves if we had been a
little more communicative and actually express our true feelings to each
other?”
“Indeed!”
Elizabeth snuggled herself in his arms. “We must change that, at
once!”
“I promise I will never
keep you in the dark about my doings or my feelings, my love.” Darcy
murmured as he held her tightly against his chest.
“And I promise that I
will never doubt you again. If one day I find myself in a similar predicament,
I shall ask you directly and not just assume the worst.”
They sealed the pact with a
kiss that quickly grew in passion. “You know, I must confess that while
your proposition shocked me, it was not a fateful occurrence. You
wouldn’t be standing here in my arms at this very moment had you not
asked me to annul our marriage. That conversation really settled things between
us. Only God knows how long it would have taken for me to try to kiss
you.”
“I was thinking exactly
the same thing,” Elizabeth smiled flirtatiously. “Perhaps I should
ask for annulments more often.”
“I will be happy to
oblige,” he murmured with lust as he pressed himself against her.
Even though she was still a
rather inexperienced wife, after almost a week of satisfying her
husband’s carnal demands with astonishing frequency, she had learnt to
detect when his ardour was aroused and in consequence, her own desire for him
was stirred.
Darcy was kissing her with a
hunger that he had, until now, reserved for their bedroom. His entire demeanour
told Elizabeth that he was indeed considering the possibility of making love to
her right there, in broad daylight, in his study, before tea.
“William,” she
gasped when his lips nibbled her earlobe. “I do not think this is the
appropriate place.”
“I
beg to differ.”