The Engagement Read online

  Elizabeth sat silently, fighting the tears coming to her eyes. She would not be surprised if Darcy refused to see her evermore after her mother’s performance. And it was only the first evening out of many like those to come. Oh, how would they survive the next three months of their engagement?

  Chapter Four

  “Lizzy, do not think about last evening any more, I beg you,” Jane said, reaching for her sister’s hand, giving it a squeeze. The sisters were in the carriage on their way to Netherfield. “You do not wish for Mr. Darcy to see you sad and forlorn.”

  “Oh, Jane!” Elizabeth cried out. “How can I smile after Mama’s display of rudeness and bad manners? She clearly implied that there was something between Wickham and I. You see yourself how angry Mr. Darcy was, how abruptly he left.”

  “We have already discussed it, Sister. I doubt that he was very angry…perhaps slightly exasperated?“

  “I do not understand how you can be so calm about it. Last evening was utterly humiliating to our entire family. I dread to think that it is what we will have to suffer for the next three months until the wedding. It is unbearable.”

  “I think that Mama realized her mistake yesterday and that she will not repeat it in the future.”

  However, Elizabeth was inconsolable that morning. “Only something worse,” she insisted.

  Jane sighed. “Mama is not perfect. However, she loves us and wishes the best for us. Her intentions are always good. She cannot help that she is less clever when it comes to certain matters.”

  Elizabeth bit down on her lip, staring stubbornly outside the window. She had never truly felt that their mother loved her in particular. Now she could only think that her mother’s actions from yesterday’s evening were made out of spite, nothing more.

  “We are here,” Jane said a moment later, handing her a handkerchief. Elizabeth dried her cheeks quickly where a few tears had fallen down. She hardly looked her best today, as her eyes were swollen after the crying she had in her bedroom during the night.

  The carriage stopped and the door opened. Bingley’s boyish face appeared, greeting them with a wide smile before handing Jane down first. Elizabeth shifted to the door, expecting to see her sister’s betrothed returning to help her as well, but to her joy it was Darcy who appeared.

  The gravelled path was wet from the night’s rain, and there were sizeable puddles marking the ground. Elizabeth looked down with concern at her elegant shoes, regretting not putting on her trusty, leather walking boots. Darcy’s gaze followed hers, and guessing her dilemma, he said, “Allow me.” Then he reached to have his arm wrapped around her waist, and carried her from the carriage onto the stone stairs leading to the main door.

  “Thank you,” she whispered, looking up at him.

  His hands were still settled on both sides of her midsection, his eyes warm and loving. Most of the tension she had carried inside of her since last night went away, the sensation of calm enveloping her.

  “Come,” he said, to her regret stepping away from her but offering his arm. “Georgiana is eagerly awaiting you.”

  Elizabeth found Darcy’s sister just as lovely and shy as the last summer. There was no doubt that she was delighted with her brother’s engagement. Elizabeth had feared that Georgiana might see her differently now that Lydia was married to Wickham, but there was nothing in the girl’s behaviour or manner which could indicate that. On the contrary, Georgiana was most enthusiastic to befriend not only Elizabeth but also Jane. Moreover, she was open to the idea of visiting Longbourn in the next few days to meet Mary and Kitty. Twice she repeated how unusual and delightful it seemed to her to live in a house with so many sisters so close in age. Elizabeth teased her that it was less delightful on days when there were quarrels over the ownership of the bonnets and ribbons, or when all the sisters were attending the same ball or a party and there was only one maid to help with hair and dressing.

  They enjoyed tea, excellent cake and pleasant conversation, then Elizabeth felt Darcy’s hand gently clasping her shoulder. “May I speak with you?” he said in a low voice, his breath tingling her skin at the back of her neck.

  Elizabeth looked over at Georgiana, who was in deep conversation with Jane, her companion, Mrs. Annesley, watching them with a kind expression.

  “Excuse me,” she said, putting down her teacup and rising to her feet. She joined Darcy, who stood a few feet afar, but was a little surprised when he put his hand on the small of her back, guiding her to the door. Silently, they stepped outside into a small hall with several doors leading to different rooms.

  “I have an important matter to discuss with you,” he said as he took her hand in his, pulling her with him.

  They entered the library, and Elizabeth noticed at once that it was as empty as nearly a year ago when she had seen it the last time. She wondered whether Mr. Bingley would wish to buy Netherfield now that he was marrying Jane. Elizabeth was not entirely certain if Jane would be happy living so close to their mother. For once she liked the idea that her future spouse was from the far north, his estate situated nearly a hundred and fifty miles away from Longbourn. She certainly would miss Jane and her father, but the separation from Mrs. Bennet was not unpleasant, especially in her current frame of mind when she was still very much upset with her mother.

  She heard the sound of the closing door, and she was on her way to examine the few lone books which occupied the solid oak bookshelves when to her utter surprise she felt herself pinned to Darcy’s chest and walked back to the nearest wall so that her back was plastered again the green wallpaper.

  She tilted her head questionably at him. “Fitzwilliam?” But he pressed himself against her, cupping her cheek and staring intensely into her eyes. At last she understood that he wished to kiss her, and was about to rise on her toes to make it easier for him, but he did not wait for her invitation, bending his head down to capture her lips with his.

  This kiss was entirely different than their first and only one on their way to Oakham Mount. He started with a gentle caress, but soon he was tugging insistently on her lower lip, his tongue pushing into her mouth. She opened it, allowing him to deepen the kiss.

  Before long, Elizabeth felt herself lacking for air, her head dizzy, and only Darcy’s strong arms seemed to hold her upright. He broke the kiss but did not pull back.

  “I planned to wait with this,” he said against her neck before placing small kisses along her collarbone. “But after what I heard from your mother yesterday...”

  “Do not mind her, she talks nonsense,” she begged.

  He straightened to his full height but did not step away from her. One of his hands was placed on her waist, the other on her shoulder. His eyes bore into hers, and he tugged down at the long sleeve of her dress together with her chemise, revealing a bare shoulder and part of the arm. “You are mine.”

  She reached her hand to touch his cheek. “I am,” she assured, keeping his gaze steadily.

  He bent down, kissing her again with double the ardour. His fingers were clasped around her shoulder, stroking her bare skin.

  “Fitzwilliam,” she gasped into his mouth as his hand moved lower, pressing over her breast.

  He rested his forehead against hers. “You cannot imagine how jealous and furious I was when I saw you talking with Wickham in Meryton, smiling at him, welcoming his attention.”

  Elizabeth tried to concentrate her scattered thoughts to reply coherently. “It was over a year ago,” she said, seeking his mouth again.

  He kissed her again, but shortly, then with strange abruptness he straightened to his full height and took a step back. Elizabeth, suddenly disposed of his strong arms upholding her, stumbled forward.

  “There, there,” he said, snaking his arm around her waist and leading them towards the sofa. Her legs felt weak, but with each step she felt that control over her body was returning to her.

  He sat her down before stepping away for a moment. Elizabeth placed her hand under her bosom, trying to calm her
racing heart. If one kiss had put her in such a state...

  “Here, drink this,” she heard, seeing half a glass of amber liquid. Without a word of protest she took it and swallowed a considerable amount. Her throat burned instantly and her eyes watered.

  “Strong,” she croaked, coughing.

  He massaged her back. “Drink some more.”

  Obediently, she took another small sip before decidedly putting the glass away on the side table. “Too strong for me; I have only ever had a glass of wine at dinner.”

  “It is Pemberley’s speciality, gives us a good profit every year,” he explained. “Bingley always asks to send a few bottles to him.”

  “I do not like it.”

  “I did not think that you would, but you needed it.”

  Elizabeth leaned against the upholstered back of the sofa, her eyes focused on his handsome face.

  He also seemed to be affected by their earlier encounter: his lips were swollen, his hair mussed, and cheeks and tips of ears flushed. “Why did you say that you should have waited?” she asked. “After all, there is nothing improper in what we have done, taking into consideration our understanding.”

  “I promised myself to keep myself under good behaviour until the wedding, but now my resolution is foregone. I do not know how I will survive these three months without touching you again.” With those words, he leaned forward, placing a kiss on her collarbone, on the exposed tops of her breasts, before resting his chin on her shoulder. Her dress was still tugged down on one side.

  “I do not mind,” she assured him.

  “I noticed,” he said, his voice both proud and joyful. He kissed her shoulder before pulling back to look into her face again. “Would you consider an elopement?”

  She laughed at his jest.

  Not deterred with her amusement, he spoke seriously, “Tomorrow morning, meet me at dawn on the road to Meryton, and in three days we will be in Gretna Green, married.”

  Elizabeth sobered instantly, her eyes widening when she saw the determination in his dark eyes. “Gretna Green?” she asked in disbelief. “You?”

  He closed his eyes for a moment, and when he opened them, he said, “Then perhaps you would consider a shorter engagement, six weeks instead of three months.”

  Elizabeth frowned, not comprehending the sudden shift in him. Yesterday, he was agreeable with the plans of a Christmas wedding together with Jane and Mr. Bingley, now he was talking about elopement, even though she had always thought him to be the last man in the world to consider such a thing, especially after what had happened to Georgiana, and how disgusted he had been upon hearing the news of Lydia’s escape. Could the jealousy over Wickham have caused this sudden shift in his behaviour?

  “I would prefer to—” she began, but he interrupted her by putting a finger on her lips, pressing lightly. His expression changed, and he seemed more of his usual, controlled self. “I know, to marry on the same day as your most beloved sister.”

  She nodded. “Yes.”

  “I should not have kissed you like that,” he lamented.

  She smiled. “Kiss me more.”

  He shook his head no, but when she wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him to her with all her might, he complied.

  “You are an excellent student when it comes to breaking my resolutions, madam. Not for the first time and certainly not for the last. Nevertheless, we have been gone quite a while,” he said as he smoothed her hair back in place. There was no mirror in the room, and Elizabeth hoped that she did not look a fright. “Let us go before they start looking for us.”

  Elizabeth followed him obediently, still dazed from their encounter. She would never look at the Netherfield library in the same way as before. To be perfectly truthful with herself, she was most pleased with what had transpired between them today, and she was already eagerly anticipating the next occasion. How fortunate she was to crave her future husband’s touch, his kisses and embraces, to desire him. She could not imagine marrying someone whom she disliked in that respect. Her friend Charlotte came to her mind. Poor Charlotte, forced to bear Mr. Collin’s company not only during the days but also the nights.

  Chapter Five

  The next fortnight was very happy but also tiring for Elizabeth. She saw Darcy every day, and usually they went on long walks, much longer than she was accustomed to. The good weather held; it was cold, but it was not raining, and the days were mostly sunny, if not windy. Elizabeth guessed that such a form of daily activity was aimed at avoiding her mother’s presence. Although Mrs. Bennet was able to mostly curb her tongue when she talked to Darcy, he was very reserved with her. He was certainly not like Mr. Bingley, who was always a perfect and patient audience for his future mother-in-law.

  Because they were gone so much, and walking all alone for many hours a day, Elizabeth felt that they should spend more time with Georgiana. Darcy, however, rejected the idea, justifying that his sister was having a very pleasant time in the company of Mary and Kitty, guarded by Mrs. Annesley. Elizabeth was astonished how well Georgiana liked her younger sisters. She played the pianoforte with Mary or walked to Meryton with Kitty, appearing to be perfectly at ease with their company.

  Darcy craved the alone time with her, that much was obvious, but despite plenty of opportunities to repeat their activities from the Netherfield library, nothing of the sort happened again. Elizabeth was more than willing, but her betrothed put himself under strict control. He was always close by her side, touching her back, helping her to cross uneven patches of ground, holding her hand from time to time, but no more passionate kisses and embraces occurred. There was also no more talk about elopement or an earlier wedding.

  Elizabeth found herself quite frustrated and confused with his somehow reserved behaviour. However, as the days passed, she settled down to the point that the morning in the Netherfield library seemed not much more than a dream to her.

  During their walks, Darcy proved to be in excellent health and very durable. He could easily walk farther than she, not to mention much faster due to his long legs. As they were alone, Darcy opened to her about his life, telling her stories from his childhood and the difficult years when he was faced with his parents’ deaths. He also spoke about Pemberley, and for the first time in her life Elizabeth witnessed how someone could be so attached to and proud of his ancestral home.

  With great enthusiasm he told her about his plans for the winter that they would spend together in Derbyshire. He praised Pemberley’s beauty when the park was covered with snow, when the lake was frozen.

  Elizabeth was eagerly anticipating her new life up north, although she could hardly image so much snow. Coming from the south of the country, she had witnessed snow for only a few days every winter, and it was merely a light dusting that melted away almost as soon as it appeared. She knew that she would miss Longbourn and her father, but especially Jane. Mr. Bingley seemed quite decided to stay in the neighbourhood, but no decision about buying Netherfield or any other estate in the area had been made. Elizabeth still hoped that in the future, she and Jane would live closer to each other.

  One day after an especially long eight-mile walk, Elizabeth retired to her bed as soon as Darcy said goodbye to her before returning to Netherfield. She refused the dinner, having no appetite. Jane, seeing that her sister was unwell, forced some chicken broth into her. Elizabeth fell asleep the moment her head touched the pillow and was amazed when the next day she woke up well after eleven in the morning. Never in her life had she slept that late. All her body ached, and she had a sore throat as well as a runny nose. After taking her necessities she crawled back to bed, not willing to leave it.

  Jane crept into the room about midday, and seeing that Elizabeth was awake, she greeted her with great concern, “How are you feeling, Lizzy?”

  “I think I will rest today.”

  Jane touched her forehead with the back of her hand. “You are warm.”

  “I am well, Jane. A bit tired, perhaps.”

  �
�I can see that.” Jane moved the covers higher, then stepped away, returning with a woollen blanket to tuck it around Elizabeth’s shoulders and neck. “I will return shortly with your breakfast.”

  “My throat hurts,” Elizabeth revealed. “I do not believe I will be able to eat much.”

  “You should eat to get better, Lizzy. You must be hungry, you barely ate anything last night.”

  Elizabeth yawned. “I only want to sleep,” she said.

  “Sleep, I will be back soon.”

  Elizabeth closed her eyes, but it seemed only a moment later when Jane returned together with the maid, bringing the tray filled with more chicken broth, as well as some fruit, cake and tea.

  Still feeling tired, Elizabeth remained sitting down in bed, her back supported on numerous pillows.

  “Oranges, at this time of the year?” she marvelled, putting a piece of sweet fruit into her mouth.

  “Mr. Darcy had them delivered for you when he heard that you were unwell.”

  “He is here?” Elizabeth enquired with more energy.

  “He was in the morning.”

  Under Jane’s watchful eye, Elizabeth had an entire bowl of hot soup, as well as a slice of cake. She refused anything more, burying herself back into the warm covers.

  She must have slept quite a long time, because when she woke up the room was dark, and Darcy sat on a chair next to the bed.

  “How are you feeling?” he asked, his hand reaching up to her forehead, cupping her face.

  “Better,” she answered in a raspy voice, sitting up, keeping the sheet to her chest for decency, as her nightgown was quite thin. She tried to ask him how long he had been sitting here with her but her voice failed her, and she began to cough.

  “It is my fault that you became sick,” he announced, his expression grave.

  She was about to protest, but he raised his hand. “Do not try to deny it. Jane told me that you would not have become sick if you had not walked long miles every day in the cold weather. She was entirely correct.”