“And you do not want to… that is to say, you do not intend for us to…?”
“Not yet.” he answered in a low voice that made her shiver, “But when we are ready, Elizabeth, I will treat you like agoddess.”
Elizabeth could find no way to answer that, short of wrapping her arms around her stomach. She bought some time to thinkby sipping her tea. It had gone cold, but it was rather fun to see the suspense on Darcy’s face. It made her innocent blushes seem rather foolish, and her quick wit resurfaced. Smiling, she put her cup down.
“It seems to me, Mr. Darcy, that you have rather too much command over this plan. If I am to release you from your vow, then I must be allowed to invent some rules of my own.”
“Rules?” he raised an eyebrow, “Anything, Elizabeth. What would you like?”
“Only one rule, my love. We will wait until midsummer night. We will not lie together before then, but we certainly shall not delay for even an hour past it. I fear that by that day you will find me most impatient to be in… what did you call it? A compromising position?”
He reddened and laughed hoarsely, “What is the purpose of such a delay, madam?”
“Call it a whim.” she replied at once, and then softened and looked directly in his eyes, “Darcy, it is the anniversary of the day we met. I would rather have a happy memory of you on that day, than cling to the past.”
Darcy paled and then caught his breath and gave her a shaky smile. “Then it is a very good idea, angel. May I kiss you before then?”
“Most assuredly! I shall be offended if you do not.”
Elizabeth smiled when he leaned forwards. Shaking her head, she pressed her finger against his lips. It was the most daring she had ever been, and when his eyes narrowed, she felt utterly wicked. “Not now, sir! You must seduce me first!”
“Oh,” Darcy laughed, his eyes as black as night, “I will.”
Chapter 34
Darcy had rarely attempted to flirt. It had always intrigued him to see other men ply their skills. He used to watch such performances with interest, trying to guess how the ladies would respond.
It was rather embarrassing to discover how many of his friends’ chosen ladies would pass them over the moment they thought that Darcy was admiring them. It did not matter that Mr. Casey could recite sonnets from memory, or that Mr. Dengle had brought them armfuls of flowers. They merely amused; Darcy was the prize. His wealth and position meant that he could win any conquest without even joining the fray, and he was humiliated by that.
He could not watch his friends for long after that. It was dangerous for him to show even the slightest interest in a single lady. Certainly, he could not attempt to use any of his friends’ seduction techniques, even for the fun of it. Darcy was reluctant to even make eye contact.
Such a resolution might have been easy for a monk, but Darcy was captivated by women. He might feign disinterest, but he was a passionate observer when they were not aware of him. He did not dare speak to them, but he longed totry.The temptation tocoax them to smile… to steal a moment alone… to smell their perfume… drove him to distraction.
Cambridge was overrun with amorous, virile young men who were ready to ‘discover’ the world beyond their estates. Most of them knew they must complete their education before looking towards marriage, and so did not attempt to form any real attachments to reputable ladies in the city. Their beds were empty, their pockets full. The demand thus established, supply soon followed. Beautiful women who would never earn the appellation of ‘ladies’ frequented the halls so regularly that the students joked that they should take classes.
These women did not need to be seduced. Any reservations they had to a gentleman were easily overcome by the opening of a wallet. They were too clever to fall for cheap lines or vapid promises, and their affections were reassuringly short-lived. All they cost were a few coins, and perhaps a broken heart or two by graduation.
Strangely enough, those women were the first to ever admire Darcy for his own merits. The same price was paid whether their client owned a house or a palace, so his wealth meant very little to them. After the transaction was finished, however, they spoke of differences between their clients, and how they had heard that he was agoodman.
Darcy only had an arrangement with one woman (a candid, pragmatic beauty with brown hair and deep blue eyes) but he was a matter of much discussion among the others. He had a reputation among them for being kind, respectful, and reasonably undemanding. These were qualities which the ladies prized, as they were shockingly rare amongst his peers. He was reserved in public, as he was in private, and did not resort to artifice of any kind. In stark contrast, the handsome swains whorecited Wordsworth and Shakespeare to blushing virgins wereverydifferent behind closed doors.
Finding out about his friends’ insincerity was a revelation to the young Darcy. It led him to a grim belief: that seduction was a pretence. Alie,which women were fooled into believing and men used like a sword.
It was around that time that Darcy began to dislike his childhood companion, George Wickham. Every lie which he saw his other friends attempt seemed to bloom in Wickham’s devious hands. There was no sincerity in the rogue’s soul, yet he seduced with the skill of Delilah. He treated all women the same, like a cat toying with an innocent mouse. His trysts were brief, the consequences lasting. His appetites were not confined to the ladies of the university, but to the sheltered innocents beyond it. It was despicable.
Inevitably, it was Darcy who had to pick up the pieces.
Finally growing weary of this, Darcy made it clear that the arrangement was over. Any woman who encouraged Wickham’s debauchery would have neither Darcy’s coin nor his protection when things went wrong. This statement, which seemed both sensible and fair in Darcy’s mind, incurred Wickham’s fury. Given a choice between the two men’s goodwill, nearly all of the ladies rejected Wickham outright. Who would prefer a crude, rough and selfish lover over a man who treated them aspeople?
Wickham found it easier to make friends than Darcy, and at that point in his life had not burned bridges with any of them. A much edited version of Darcy’s ultimatum was dripped into their classmates’ ears. By their final year, Darcy was used to being alone.
Only loyal Bingley remained. He confided to Darcy that a childhood surviving his sisters’ schemes had made him sadly familiar with duplicity, and that he could recognise a lie as easily as other men might identify a butterfly. Darcy could not imagine another soul as wicked as Wickham’s until the day when he was introduced to Caroline Bingley. After that, he and Bingley were destined to become allies. Together, they withstood the petty, the spiteful and the vain.
Wickham returned, of course, and callously drove the final nail in the coffin of Darcy’s juvenile tenderness. Lonely, stony and cold, Darcy’s heart calcified.
Until he met Elizabeth.
Their honeymoon was simple and innocent. There was nothing transactional about their friendship in Darcy’s mind, which was why he was deeply hurt when Elizabeth said therewas.He forgave her by believing that she was ignorant. She had not his education, nor his sorry experiences in the fray. It was refreshing to think of such purity.
