“I am exceedingly anxious to speak with you alone before I leave for town,” he said as Bingley came outside. “Tell me at once whether you will meet me Saturday morning.”
“Yes, of course.”
They stepped apart when Bingley approached, speaking of his eagerness to see them all at the home of Mrs Philips the following day. Bingley cheerfully said how much he looked forward to a noisy, comfortable game of lottery tickets and was pleased that, since Mrs Philips had promised a hot supper afterwards, it would be a late evening. Fitzwilliam’s and Elizabeth’s eyes met, and she laughed when she saw him lift his eyes behind Bingley’s back.
ChapterFourteen
Darcy did not enjoy cards, and only Elizabeth fathomed his preference for reading or conversation over gambling, but he put forth the effort at Mrs Philips’s card party. Whatever he said was said good-naturedly; whatever he did was done graciously. Thankfully, Mrs Philips and her guests were predominantly interested in Jane and Bingley’s engagement, and Darcy had the pleasure of having his betrothed at his side for most of the evening. They had no opportunity to speak privately, but he did introduce his future mother-in-law to the idea of his marrying Elizabeth sooner rather than later.
“I quite agree, Mr Darcy. There is nothing I so abominate for young people as a long engagement,” said Mrs Bennet. The conversation ended with Elizabeth giving him a smile that told him she would marry him in July instead of September.
He held that memory in his mind as he readied himself in the dark morning hours to go to Longbourn. Darcy knew his valet would be appalled if he left without his coat, but he doubted he could put on the form-fitting garment without help. He donned his greatcoat to cover his shirtsleeves in case he was seen, and bypassed the stables, intending to walk. He needed time to order his thoughts and to determine what to say since Elizabeth was apprehensive about being alone with him.
Darcy had been irritated at the manner in which Elizabeth left things between them two nights ago, but such feelings did not last long. If Elizabeth’s withdrawal proceeded from her fear of doing wrong, it was a sentiment with which he could readily identify. Darcy had been equally uncertain of their behaviour, although incredibly eager, but if she was angry with him for his loss of control, he would have to beg her forgiveness. He could not honestly regret the encounter in the tearoom—only their location and timing.
Truth be told, it would take little encouragement on her part to convince him to repeat the experience.
She greeted him with the familiar smile he knew she gave only to him. The sweetness of her address was most welcome after the uncertainty of the past two days. Still unsure of her feelings, instead of kissing her lips, he settled for her hand. “Might we walk again to Oakham Mount?”
“No, I always walk that way. Let us walk toward the fields.”
Elizabeth mentioned a vacant tenant home by fallow fields that might need a new roof. Darcy, who normally attended to her every word, found himself distracted as he looked at her. Something was different about Elizabeth’s clothes.
“I once thought I drew your notice because there was something about me more wrong, according to your ideas of right, than any other person. The way you are staring at me leads me to believe that I may have been correct.”
“You appear different today. Your clothes do not fit you the same, and I am certain of that since I have seen you in the same gown and spencer on several occasions.”
Elizabeth stopped walking. She did not seem angry, and after his first proposal, he was well aware of what Elizabeth looked like when she was angry. “Tell me precisely: How do I appear different to you?”
“The skirt of your gown clings to your legs while you walk. And your…the bodice…where your spencer…theyare…” He trailed off as he attempted to keep his gaze on Elizabeth’s rapidly pinking face instead of the parts of her body he was struggling to describe. Darcy closed his eyes and wished he was better practised at being deceitful when the ringing sound of Elizabeth’s laughter filled his ears.
“I am sorry to laugh at you, Fitzwilliam, but you have made me feel better about speaking with you today. I have been so afraid of what you must think of me, of what you must have to say, but your mortification will make mine easier to withstand. Anything I say will be markedly easier after having listened as you tried to explain yourself.”
Darcy set his jaw and resigned himself to being laughed at as he asked her, with some attempt at dignity, why she appeared altered.
“I saw no reason to wake the poor housemaid before dawn to help me dress.”
The last thing he wanted to imply was that her clothes fit her ill because she could not dress herself.
“To think there was a time when I found your features unreadable.” Elizabeth laughed again. “Yes, I candress myself. What I cannot easily do is tie the stay laces, and that is why—well, that is why I appear altered. And on such a warm morning, I forwent the petticoat as well. There, have I sufficiently shocked your sensibilities? Now despise me if you dare—that is, if you do not already.” The humour had faded from her expression, and she looked contrite.
“Why would I despise you, for that or for anything else?” He was entirely perplexed.
“You might despise me for my shameless behaviour the other night. You fell in love with the daughter of a gentleman, and I ought to act like one. I could not bear to lose your respect.”
“I found nothing in your actions to be ashamed of,” he said forcefully.
“That is simply not possible. Any respectable man would criticise the woman he had not yet married for speaking openly about her own desire, let alone acting on it. You would not be blamed for falling victim to the temptation I gave you, nor would I blame you for censuring me. I am prepared to hear it now.”
“This is why you have avoided being alone with me?” he asked, incredulous. “You think I judge you harshly for what happened and that you alone were responsible?”
“The only way to prevent that behaviour again is to maintain a distance from you. We were fortunate that we were not observed. Any impropriety of the kind that happened in the tearoom may engender comment.”
“I hope to persuade you not to alter your behaviour now or ever.” That was the last thing he wanted from his wife. “My one regret is that I let my self-control slip in a time and place that put us in danger of being seen. At the risk of again being accused of behaving in an ungentlemanly manner, I must tell you that I would like you to come to me any time you wish. I enjoy your affections, and I do not want them to change.”
“You would not be ashamed to have me again act as I did that night?” Her surprise was evident. “It is bad enough that I confessed how much I—” She bit her lip and looked away.
“Elizabeth,” he said slowly, “I am unsure what expectations you have for our future together. You said that your parents and the Collinses gave you a poor example of marital bliss, and my own parents, while well suited and fond of one another, married for connexions and wealth rather than for love. I do not want there to be any distance between us.”
