Page 23 of Elizabeth’s Refuge (Mr. Underwood’s Elizabeth & Darcy Stories #16)
They chattered over coffee, talking about a play and about the pier, but Elizabeth subsided into silence and yawns as she finished eating her bread and drinking her coffee.
A little food and a little fat in her body, and she was already halfway to sleep.
Elizabeth leaned against the wing of the chair and closed her eyes, lulled by the rhythmic splashing of the waves.
Darcy briefly took and squeezed her hand before releasing it.
Elizabeth snuggled deeper against the side of the comfortable chair, wishing that Darcy would squeeze her hand again.
She was woken some time later by the ringing of the church bells calling out four o’clock.
Elizabeth stretched her arms out, and rolled her neck side to side to get rid of the slight crick in her neck from the upright posture she’d slept in.
Darcy still sat by her side, though he’d taken out a book, which he now also put to the side.
He looked between her and the street running along the harbor.
The rain had stopped and the late afternoon sun shone across the waves.
“I meant to meet General Fitzwilliam, but I could not bear to wake you. Now it is too late to escort you back to the hotel and still meet him according to our arrangement.”
“Just go off, go off,” Elizabeth laughingly said, rubbing her eyes. “You can meet him there easily in time — leave your book so I have more than the view to entertain myself with.”
“I can’t leave you alone in a cafe! Unprotected, and unguarded.”
Elizabeth laughed. “What do you worry will happen to me?”
The cafe was clearly a respectable place, and at least one other conversation was conducted in English. The waiters looked quite fashionable in their uniforms, and with the prices drawn on the menus there was little chance of a rowdy low clientele visiting themselves upon her.
Which she would also survive if they did appear.
Darcy frowned and did not answer her question.
“Are you wracking your brains to think upon every terrible thing that might happen to me if I am left alone for the span of an hour and a quarter in this place, or are you frowning for a different reason?”
“I just… I would never leave my sister without a maid or a footman — or best both — in such a place as this.”
Elizabeth laughed. “A caring and careful brother! ‘Such a place as this’ — I hope neither the waiters nor the regular patrons can understand English, else I will be in danger.”
“I confess…” Darcy scratched at the back of his head, almost confusedly.
“You are alone; a British gentlewoman in a foreign country. Women must be protected… that’s the place of gentlemen, our purpose is to care for and ensure the wellbeing of those of the gentler sex around us.
Especially when… especially a woman who I…
” Darcy hesitated, he clearly wanted to say more, but also could not without directly declaring himself.
Infuriating, sweet man, Elizabeth thought both fondly and annoyedly.
“You saved my life, Mr. Darcy. You saved it at least twice — from the illness, and when you snatched me from under Lord Lachglass’s nose.”
“That was principally my cousin’s doing.”
“And you are a man who never wishes to take credit undeserved — which is a stance the easier for you to take since you deserve so very much credit, and you know it. You hid me from Lord Lachglass at the least; you called the doctor for me. You allowed me without a question of anything but friendship and concern to occupy one of your bedrooms, and your time and your care. You protect me, and you care for me exceedingly well. I… I depend upon you in this foreign, half familiar, half strange and different country.”
“However?” Darcy smiled at her. “I hear a however in your tone.”
“However, if someone in this cafe tries to bother me, I will first butt them with my head, and then bash a coffee cup over their head, and you shall need to spirit me to Denmark, and pay the dear owners of this establishment some extra money for damages caused.”
Darcy laughed. “I forget in a way… that you are not so defenseless. You look fragile and everything that is spirit and beauty. But…”
“I like to think there is animal and flesh and muscle within me as well. I am not just a spiritual being.”
“You are not,” Darcy replied admiringly.
He looked towards the road again. “Still enough time. If you insist I can leave you behind, with just a book for entertainment, I’ll do so, but know it makes me feel uncomfortable.”
Elizabeth took both his hands in hers and kissed his knuckles. “I thank you very much.”
Darcy went to the chief waiter and handed him one of those big French bills that he’d gotten from his man of business while saying a few words to him. No doubt ensuring that this man would keep a very close eye on her.
And then he was off to beat General Fitzwilliam into a friendly pulp.
Or the other way around.
Elizabeth would not care to wager bets on who would win in that conflict, but from the eagerness both of them had evinced when General Fitzwilliam mentioned the possibility of fencing, she was quite assured both would end with bruises.
She tried to read Darcy’s novel, and as the sun set the now obsequious waiter immediately set several beeswax candles out for her to read by. But rather perversely she put the book aside shortly after.
The relationship betwixt her and Darcy was filled with such an odd mixture of the awkward and the delightful, and at this moment her annoyance at the awkward was predominate.
How could she endure months at least — perhaps much more — halfway the chosen companion of Darcy’s life, and halfway a helpless distressed maiden, a piece of driftwood fate had tossed on his shore?
She understood Darcy.
He was honorable. He wanted to do the right thing. He would act to protect his friends when he thought they made the wrong decision. But Lord! This was the same sort of mistake that he had made with Jane and Bingley.
Mr. Darcy thought it was his business to ensure she made no enforced decision. That there was no necessity tying her to accept him, and no excess of gratitude that influence her in his favor when her natural preference would have been in some other direction. It was ridiculous .
Was this really where his hesitation to declare himself came from?
Maybe, despite Darcy’s evident and clear affection for her, his infatuation towards her, his desire for her, perhaps he did not want to have a wife who would be forever barred from England.
Or perhaps he was rethinking the entire matter, and not at all sure if he wanted to marry her with the poverty and the scandals.
His first instinct, she comforted herself in this dour speculation, had of a certainty been to ignore her changed circumstances. But his pride held him back further and further the longer he pondered on the matter.
The brutish fact was that her circumstances were worse by far, and her family would need far more of his support than when he had asked her to marry him the first time.
And Darcy had not come easily to the decision to marry her then.
And thus he had concocted in his mind this notion of it being important for her to not be dependent upon him for her life and safety as an excuse to avoid admitting to himself that he did not actually wish to take her on as a wife, with all that would entail.
Elizabeth shook her head annoyedly, and asked for a glass of wine and some of the cheeses and sliced meats that one of the other patrons dined on from the waiter when he ran up to her to beg if he could do anything to be of service to her.
The blue veined cheese with freshly baked bread, made for the evening crowd, tasted exquisite, an explosion of taste in Elizabeth’s mouth.
On consideration, it was not in Darcy’s character to engage in that level of self-deception.
The uncertainty scared her. Until he declared himself, she could not know that he would declare himself.
Elizabeth wanted to know. She didn’t want her heart to be tortured in this almost engaged state. If he yet loved her, and loved her enough to take her despite all the reasons against such a match, she wanted him to do it now.
But it was impossible for a lady, even one so daring as she, to simply say that brazenly.
There were matters of money, but she could survive without much money.
In any case, she was not so desperately dependent upon him.
Certainly, her French was not so good that she could easily seek some sort of employment at present in France, but her command of the language also was not so bad that she would require a great length of time before she could .
She had improved enormously in just the past few days.
She could make an effort as a governess again, to some family which never returned to England, or to a French family which wished to ensure their children spoke English perfectly — this time she would find a widow to employ her.
Or she could become the companion to some widowed or unmarried lady.
Darcy had an extensive acquaintance. He could foist her off on some friend of his.
Elizabeth brooded.
Frowned and brooded.
And so she was frowning, and slightly tipsy from the excellent red wine she had drunk a glass of, when after just an hour’s absence Darcy returned with General Fitzwilliam in tow.
“See,” General Fitzwilliam said loudly, and with a wink at Elizabeth, “Miss Bennet is flowering and in better spirits than she ever has been. You needed not to worry about her.”
“We did not stay away too long?” Darcy asked, in a slightly worried tone, as if she would choose to disappear if he did not constantly keep her in sight.
“No.” Elizabeth knew her voice was irritable.
Beyond everything else that she had faced in the last weeks, including being assaulted, nearly dying, and becoming an exile from her country of birth, she could feel that she was only a few days from the commencement of her monthly bleeding.
It was all quite enough to make a woman cry.
Darcy flinched slightly at her voice, while General Fitzwilliam phlegmatically raised an eyebrow.
“I am not a child in your care, who depends upon you for everything. I can protect myself.”
“I know, Elizabeth.”
“You do not . I can defend my own honor. I can entertain my own self. I can plan my own decisions.”
“I know, I know—”
“I don’t need you!”
Darcy swallowed and looked hurt.
“Oh,” Elizabeth reached her hand out shakingly, “I do not mean to yell — that is not what I meant to say, I… what I meant is that I am sure I could find a position for some employment in France if I needed to. Maybe risk being a governess again, to some sympathetic French widow who wishes her children to speak English particularly well.”
“Perhaps…” Darcy swallowed, and his eyes looked suddenly hollow.
“Elizabeth… perhaps, even if you do not need me, perhaps I need you. I… I have never been to Paris. Never been to France at all. I… I would wish you to stay with me until we have… have seen the country. I do desperately want to see Paris… you and me. And then if you yet wish to find employment as a governess… afterwards. I shall understand… and I—”
“Oh, you sweet, wonderful, silly, dear man. I… I do not mean I want to become a governess, either. I don’t.
” General Fitzwilliam was grinning widely at her, and his amusement was distracting, and they were surrounded by the crowd of evening guests who had made appearance at the cafe for an evening bite and coffee and wine now that the work day was done, but she had to say now what she desperately wanted to say for Darcy’s sake. “What I mean is that…”
Elizabeth swallowed.
She felt a terrible hesitation in her gut — a fear of what his reaction would be.
Best to know now. Best now. “What I meant to say… what I really meant is that, I… I want to marry you. Mr. Darcy, you are dear to me… and my opinion of you has changed so completely since that day I mistakenly refused you.”
He blinked at her in confusion.
“That’s all I meant. That I want to marry you.” She swallowed and waited for Darcy to proclaim her fate.
“Oh.” And his brilliant, heart stopping smile came out, like a sunbeam through the clouds.
“Oh , that’s what you meant by ‘I do not need you.’ I apologize for the difficulty I had interpreting your words,” Darcy was grinning so widely that he had to pause, “but now that you have explained, the meaning is perfectly clear.”
General Fitzwilliam snorted. “Was clear enough to me from the start.”
Elizabeth glared at him; this was not the time for his humor.
“Elizabeth, my dear, darling Elizabeth.” Now everything was gone for Elizabeth except Darcy’s beautiful sparkling eyes, and his flashing happy grin. “It seems like I have been a fool once more, I shall often depend upon you to tell me when I am behaving as a fool. Can I depend upon you to tell me?”
“You can always depend upon me.” Elizabeth’s heart stuttered, as though it both wished to race fast and stop in contemplation of Darcy’s handsome visage. “You can depend upon me for anything.”
Darcy glanced for an instant at his cousin and the other patrons of the cafe. His smiling expression seemed to say, I had not expected to do this in such company .
With his color high and a serious voice he said, “Elizabeth Bennet, you do not require my help. That is true. You can survive and you can choose for yourself. That is who you are, a woman worthy of being admired. But I desperately want to help you, whenever you can use help. I desperately wish to live with you, during every trial and tribulation of our lives. However since you do not need my money, since you shall find way to survive without my aid, I have only one thing I can offer to induce you to stay close by my side — for I do need you by my side — my heart. Elizabeth Bennet, you have my heart. I beg you not to crush it, for I do ardently admire and love you. I have missed you every day since we parted last, and now that I have seen you again… Elizabeth, perhaps I might survive without you, but I do not wish to. I ask you to make me the happiest of men, and accept my hand, my heart, and my soul. Please be the companion of my life. I beg you, tell me that I have your heart and then I shall be — and this is no poetic exaggeration — the happiest of men.”
“Oh, oh, oh! Of course I will. Of course you do. My heart is yours.”
Darcy stood to his feet and pulled Elizabeth to hers and then he kissed her solidly on the lips, in front of everyone, and then he lifted her in his arms and swung her round three times, laughing with happiness.
There was a mixture of laughter and cheers from the French cafe goers at this behavior from the English gentleman and his lady in their midst, and in his happiness Darcy promptly paid for dinner and champagne for everyone in the cafe.