Page 26 of The Heroic Mr Darcy’s Bad Manners
Elizabeth
Elizabeth awoke from the sun’s rays filtering through her window. She glanced at the clock; it was a quarter past five. She turned her back to the light, but her body hummed with energy. After fifteen minutes of listening to the cheerful chirping of a blackbird, she huffed, sat up, and rose to dress. Something simple would have to do. She was not disturbing the servants at such an ungodly hour.
The park outside her window beckoned. She found the sturdy walking boots that would not be ruined in dewy grass and donned a light shawl to stave off the morning chill. She walked determinedly through the quiet passage and down the stairs. A sleepy footman drew the latch and opened the door.
“Do you need an escort, madam?”
“I thank you but no. I shall only stroll in the garden and not venture far from the house.”
The air was refreshing, and she chose to enjoy the early blooms in the rose garden first, but the hill beyond was beckoning her to proceed. She followed the path into the wood, and at first, she thought the dimming light was due to the trees hanging over her head. It was not until the first raindrop landed on her nose that she noticed the clouds blowing in from the west. The deluge that followed came as a complete surprise, and she was too far from the house to reach it before she would be wet through. A fork in the path led to a Grecian folly, and she dashed thither to take shelter.
She shook the raindrops from her hair and shawl, quite prepared to wait out the fierce summer storm. Thunder rolled somewhere in the far distance, and the sky gave no indication the deluge would abate any time soon. The loud drumming on the roof must account for her not hearing the rider before he was upon her. Coming down the hill at break-neck speed was an informally dressed master of Pemberley. She was not a horsewoman but felt herself proficient enough to judge when someone had a good seat, and Mr Darcy’s was particularly fine, but he was moving too fast. She pulled deeper into the folly in case he did not manage to stop.
The horse skidded to a halt on the muddy ground with only inches to spare. A devilishly handsome Mr Darcy, still with his morning stubble, jumped down and strode into the folly. She let her eyes wander across his wide shoulders and chest before boldly dropping them lower. For a moment she worried he was about to wrench off his shirt by the way he was fiddling with his hand inside it. Instead, he pulled out a threadbare royal blue ribbon matching the one she had lost at their wintery picnic. To think he had kept it for so long pleased her ever so much and allowed her hope to soar.
Mr Darcy must have got rain in his eyes because he raked his wet shirtsleeve over his face to dry himself off. He shook his dripping hair and sent a droplet that landed on her cheek. She wiped it away, and the movement notified Mr Darcy that he was not alone in the folly.
His eyes widened and his mouth dropped open.
“Eilís?”
Elizabeth could not decide whether her presence was a pleasant or an undesirable surprise. Nevertheless, it was the opportunity she so fervently had wished for. Now was the moment for her resolution to be executed, and she must act whilst her courage was high.
“Mr Darcy!” she exclaimed, curtseying. “I can no longer delay expressing my fervent gratitude. Even if I must remind you of painful recollections best forgotten. I have been most anxious to acknowledge your exemplary kindness to my family, which in turn has grievously injured your own. Let me thank you again and again, on behalf of my family.”
“I harboured no hope you would welcome my presence after I treated you so abominably in Meryton and my family caused you so much grief. I am delighted you have come.”
She understood how he had taken the blame upon his own shoulders because that was the kind of man he was. Dutiful to a fault.
“You are not culpable for what transpired when you were a mere child in leading strings. I doubt you ever knew the facts, judging by your incredulous expression when they were revealed to us. As for your bad manners—I am still waiting for an apology from your own mouth. For that I hold you responsible, but your recent sacrifice saving my family’s name has done much to alleviate my pique.”
“It was for you alone,” he blurted out, startling Elizabeth with the vehemence in his voice. “I shall not deny there were other inducements such as justice and truth, but your family owes me nothing.”
He stepped closer, whilst his expression softened.
“I have delayed my approach till I could address you with a reasonable request and not the mere ravings of a passionate man. My sense tells me that I should forfeit your respect and esteem, but my heart disagrees. In the twelve months you have been known to me you have inspired a deep and abiding affection. Your visit to Derbyshire has given me hope, that to which I before scarcely dared to aspire. Do you still think meanly of me, or has your opinion improved?”
Despite her bashfulness choosing that moment to descend into an abrupt onslaught of shyness, Elizabeth forced herself to speak, albeit not very fluently. “My opinion has not changed at all.” She smiled wryly. “I am steadier in my attachment than that, and though I am now surrounded by flatterers, my regard has not waned since you rescued me from the wild beast in Lambton. Since that very moment you have been my weakness. It remains to be seen whether you can be my strength.”
She could read by the changeable expressions on his face the moment when he remembered the old incident.
“You were the young girl who dared venture into the mad horse’s enclosure?”
She nodded, ashamed.
“You charmed my mother,” he mumbled.
“I believe so, or she would not have invited the unruly child to tea at the Rose and Crown.”
“I can be your everything—if you will let me.”
There was nothing she wanted more, yet her distrust was deeply rooted.
“I am almost afraid of asking, but what did you think of me when we happened upon each other yesterday?” Elizabeth questioned.
“I know enough of your disposition to be certain that if you had travelled willingly to Pemberley, I might stand a chance. So, when the first admission you made to me was being brought here unwittingly, my hopes and wishes were quashed.”
“I was fully aware we were travelling to your neighbourhood. I just did not know that Edensor was this close to your home. I now better understand why you were so silent and grave last evening. I thought you indifferent.”
“Never,” he replied vehemently. “I was arguing with myself, after my unpardonable behaviour and my family’s disgrace, how you could ever be prevailed upon to love me.”
Elizabeth lowered her eyes to the ground.
“Will you allow me to explain?” Mr Darcy pleaded.
She nodded her acquiescence.
“I admired Eilís from the first moment we met. I was intrigued by your mind, impressed by your wit, and utterly bewitched by the time I discovered your exceptional eyes. No superlatives could ever do them justice. They are not only large and of the finest green, but full of character and so expressive whether they are flashing in indignation or softly adoring. They are so bright I could see my reflection in them.”
If Elizabeth was honest, her heart believed it was better to be admired by the fine, noble-looking gentleman than adored by every man in the world. She contemplated the bitter sufferings of their past. Love was the most arbitrary, ungovernable passion of nature. Like a wild, feverish dream and days of delirium.
“You are the handsomest woman of my acquaintance,” Mr Darcy assured her.
“I would as soon call my mother a wit,” Elizabeth countered before he perjured himself any further.
Mr Darcy bowed his head in mortification. “You heard me,” he whispered. “And my shame is complete. I am a selfish man who was taught good principles but chose to follow them in pride and conceit. So, I would still be if not for you, dearest, loveliest Elizabeth!”
“I believe your description was tolerable but not handsome enough to tempt you.”
He flinched but stepped closer, and with a finger under her chin, he gently raised her head to arrest her in the depths of his blue eyes.
“Firstly, that was obviously a barefaced lie, and my abominable behaviour was inexcusable. I deserve no forgiveness, so I shall not ask it of you. But I can explain why I uttered the lies and behaved so rudely. I did find you pretty, and that irked me because I had set my course. I was determined to find Eilís and look at no other lady before I had discovered whether our connection was as strong as the night of the masquerade implied. I was in a foul mood when I entered the assembly, having been thwarted at every turn in that endeavour, which was emphasised by greatly failing my sister. I declare it aged me into my dotage, and I became a churlish old curmudgeon who enjoyed trading boorish sarcasms with Miss Bingley. You are clearly very handsome but of a vivacious and expressive beauty that stole upon me by degrees—after we became acquainted, rather than what might have struck me upon first sight. Your charm is difficult to describe, a je ne sais quoi , an irresistible allure that drew me in even against my will. My heart was set on Eilís, and little did I know you were one and the same.”
“I shall not prevaricate but strive to be equally honest. My heart shattered at the assembly, but I am not made for misery, and I am breaking in a brand-new heart. It is hard—this second time—but there is a depth to you that draws me in. I am quite defenceless and shockingly vulnerable to your charm.”
“I shall endeavour to be worthy of you. To be your friend, protector, and, if you will have me, your husband and lover. You may be repulsed by how needy I am,” he admitted, taking hold of her hand, “but I have been heartsick for so long and crave your touch, your approbation, and ultimately, your love.”
Her happiness was of a tranquil nature—closer to melancholy than mirth in its expression. It was as though a profound sense of peace and comfort had descended. Their lips met in a long, delicious kiss, sweet yet so ardent in its expression it drew a warm current into her youthful heart and reanimated its wildest passion.
Elizabeth drew back, rested her head on his shoulder, and sighed. Releasing months of grievances and looking to the future with pleasure was not without its perils. Her heart had decided that she loved this man—the flawed gentleman and not the hero she had worshipped as a child. Back then she had pursued shadows and lived on hope. Her feelings were no longer of a wild and rapturous nature but had calmed into sanguine certainty. There would undoubtedly be sorrows, interspersed between joy and felicity, but a weight had lifted from the region of her heart. He may still be a little too proud, and sometimes a bit patronising; but she was not flawless, and Fitzwilliam loved her. There were no doubts in her mind that he found her attractive because who would so relentlessly pursue someone they found only tolerably handsome? Certainly not Mr Darcy. He was used to having his way, and she was fortunate that she was the lady he desired.
“I adore you,” he whispered fervently into her ear. “Not only as a lover or a friend—but in essentials. A chuisle mo chroí —the pulse of my heart.”
“You have learnt Irish?” Elizabeth muttered into his shirt in amazement. His embrace tightened around her, pulling her close.
“I am not an eloquent man, but I am clever, and I searched through my library to find something to say to you that might persuade you to marry me. Have I succeeded?”
“You have,” Elizabeth admitted, tired of fighting what could not be conquered.
“You will marry me?” Darcy asked again.
“I will.”
“How soon?”
Elizabeth chuckled at his eagerness. “As soon as the banns are read. Would that suit you?”
“We could marry in a week with a common licence,” Darcy suggested with hope in his voice.
“And deprive my mother the pleasure of pestering Papa for a fortnight with lace and flower arrangements? I think not. She would never forgive me.”
“Your parents have a peculiar relationship.”
“Thank you for putting it so delicately. But yes, they have a singular sense of humour. Do not let their banter fool you, because they do love each other. Unfortunately, Lydia has inherited a combination of their worst traits. She can be trying. In fact, on the day… No, that is a story for after we are married.”
“You cannot leave it at that. I simply must know.” Darcy smiled. “What did she do?”
“She put all my dresses in the scullery at once. I was left with a stained one I had long since outgrown.” Elizabeth hoped he would leave it at that as her face flamed in embarrassment. But he was studying her and touched her warm cheeks, so she blurted it out. “I may have encountered two gentlemen riders out on my morning walk and had to climb up a tree to avoid being seen in my abominable attire. Though the view of the pond was worth the injuries to my pride.”
Darcy looked thoughtful, but she could see when he realised exactly what her implication insinuated.
“Did the gentlemen go for a swim?”
“You know as well as I that the pond is too shallow. Though I feel it incumbent upon me to assure you that my eyes never strayed from one particular gentleman…”
He was baffled for a moment before his face erupted in a wry smile.
“Did you like what you saw?” He grinned with raised eyebrows.
She aimed to swat his arm but missed, and her hand landed firmly on his derrière . Her cheeks heated even more, and she buried her face in the crook of his arm. He would not allow it and held her at arm’s length.
“Your blush is most alluring,” he drawled.
“Oh, there is a lull in the rain. Do you think it is because the weather approves of our understanding?” She smiled impishly.
“To Hades with the rain and the sun. I just want to kiss you again to be absolutely certain this is not one of my delightful dreams.”
“I suppose you will never know unless you act upon it.”
“There is my Eilís,” he growled, kissing her soundly.
“I believe it is time to return to the house,” Elizabeth advised, though she would rather stay in the folly forever. His kisses only improved upon familiarity, but it would not do to wait until they were missed and risk being discovered thus engaged.
“Pemberley is closest,” Darcy determined, tucked her hand around his arm, and walked briskly towards his house. The clouds still hung dark and heavy over their heads. The rain had offered them a respite for escape, but the pause would not last long.
“Your horse!” she cried lest he forget his mount.
“He will follow of his own volition,” Darcy declared. Sure enough, the beast was plodding not far behind.
“Why is it you were out riding at this ungodly hour and in this inclement weather? I hope nothing is amiss.”
“No, nothing but a lack of sleep. I tend to rise early, but knowing your delectable presence was in my aunt’s house—so close yet out of reach—made it impossible to rest. Knowing Richard only planned to stay for a fortnight, and assuming you and Mrs Bennet would most likely travel south under the colonel’s protection, my time was limited.”
Elizabeth could only be happy, even if he had slept as poorly as she, when the result had been so gloriously in her favour.
“We are not travelling with the colonel. They are for the Lake District.”
“Really? He has not mentioned anything of that nature to me. In fact, he said only yesterday that should I require more time…he would be willing to postpone their return south. He has rented a house at a new resort in a quaint fishing village. I suppose Ramsgate and Brighton are too full of soldiers for his liking and Scarborough too close to Bingley’s relations. They are going to Sanditon.”
It was clear that her sister and Richard had schemed to bring them together. Yet she could not quite condone the method they had used. If Jane had been honest, she would have travelled willingly to Pemberley.
“I declare, your mischievous cousin has had a reprehensible influence upon my hitherto flawless sister. She, who has never schemed or conspired, tried to trick me into compliance and not so much as hinted that they were bound for the delightful Pemberley and its dashing master. Because of their subterfuge, I had to inconvenience both my grandmother and your accommodating aunt to travel hither.”
“You cannot understand how happy that makes me. To hear that you travelled here with an express wish to see me. I cannot repine their artful machinations when the consequences are so greatly to my liking.”
“Please, do not suppose I object to the outcome, but I cannot help but feel we would eventually have reached the same conclusion without the awkwardness upon our arrival if we had been better prepared…”
“Certainly, but that would have deprived my dear cousin of the chance to make sport of us, and he cannot help it. He loves to laugh, especially at my expense.”
“That does not diminish my wish for a small kind of vindication.”
“Indeed. What do you have in mind?”
A fat drop of rain hit Elizabeth’s nose. Darcy must have felt one too because he grabbed her hand in his. “Come, we had better run before we become soaked.”
So, they raced down the rest of the hill and ran through the garden as fast as their legs could carry them. At least that was true for Elizabeth, though she suspected that Mr Darcy’s long legs could have carried him faster still. A young boy must have seen their mad dash through the rain and met them to take the master’s horse—an indication of a well-managed estate. Darcy acquiesced and thanked him moments before they burst, laughing, through a set of glass doors. Elizabeth’s mirth quieted upon espying the magnificent library. She let her eyes travel shelf upon shelf of floor-to-ceiling books.
“Good gracious!” she whispered reverently.
“Do you approve?” the master enquired with eager anticipation.
“Who would not! I have never seen so many books in my life.” She strolled farther into the room as if pulled by an invisible force.
“I promise we shall explore it later, but not before we have dried our wet attire.”
“Are you always this commanding?” Elizabeth smiled and tugged off her shawl that had caught most of the rain. Mr Darcy looked stricken.
“I would not wish you to become ill, madam.”
“Of course not. I was only teasing.”
The newly affianced separated for a brief moment to refresh their attire. By design, they reunited in the breakfast parlour and waited for the colonel and his bride to make an appearance.
Standing close, with Darcy’s back to the door and Elizabeth more or less hidden from sight, they waited a long time. Darcy used the interim to relate humorous anecdotes from when he and his cousin were inventive little lads who indulged in mischief more often than not.
Elizabeth could readily believe it of the colonel but was sceptical about her betrothed’s tomfoolery.
The door opened during a particularly funny story, and Elizabeth pressed her lips together to contain her mirth.
Darcy saw her struggle and walked forwards, forcing Elizabeth to step backwards until her back hit the wall. He planted a hand on each side of her head and towered over her with a gleam in his eyes that confirmed his tale of youthful knavery.
“I demand some respect—” he yelled.
Rapid steps approached, and Elizabeth peeked out to watch a stone-faced colonel advance upon them.
“Good gracious! You are engaged,” cried Jane.
The colonel halted abruptly and turned to his wife with an incredulous expression. “How did you deduce that from the display before us?”
“That is not the countenance of an enraged Lizzy but a deliriously happy one,” Jane replied calmly.
Elizabeth lost her composure and laughed heartily. “True!” she admitted.
Darcy turned towards the intruders with a wide grin. “Respect from my scheming dolt-head of a cousin,” he cried. “How would you like to punish him, dearest?”
“Please, do not call me that!”
“Dare I ask why not?”
“That is what my mother calls my father when she is vexed.”
“What would you like me to call you?”
“Mrs Darcy, but only in private. In public you must call me Lady Elizabeth, but with family or friends you may call me Lizzy.”
“What if I prefer Eilís?”
Elizabeth stepped closer and raised her chin.
“I shall accede to you calling me your Incomparable Exalted Royal Highness Queen Elizabeth.”
The colonel cleared his throat. She had completely forgotten about their company and her revenge.
“I had never thought that after ending an acclaimed military career I would stoop to chaperoning two lovesick fools. We had better send a message to Edensor that Elizabeth is here and is staying for breakfast before they send out servants to search for her.”
Jane snickered and looked at him lovingly. “Your performance is excellent. I dare say you exceed the expectations of even the most forbidding old matrons.”
“Then you will not oppose me when I declare that the betrothed couple cannot be under the same roof without supervision?” the colonel declared whilst wriggling his eyebrows.
Jane bit her lip in contemplation.
“We could all go to the Lake District,” Elizabeth suggested to call them out.
“There never was a trip to the Lakes,” Jane admitted. “We were so happy and could not bear to watch our dearest relations be so decidedly unhappy that we schemed to bring you two together to end your misery. I dare say we would have been successful in our endeavour had you only acquiesced to join us, Lizzy.”
“Our plan was as solid as an over-ripe plum.” The colonel grinned. “But all that ends well…”
“I should summon Doctor Scott and have him bleed your excessive pride.” Darcy smirked.
“When one is wed to the most precious woman in the world, pride will always be under good regulation,” the colonel asserted with immoderate gratification.
After breakfast they all gathered in the library. With the rain pelting steadily on the windows, there was not much else to do. It was fortunate that they had books, a fine chessboard, and cards to entertain them.
The gentlemen were playing chess when Mr Darcy’s booming voice startled Elizabeth to her feet.
“Put that down or I shall have you hanged for thievery!”
“Not a chance, Fitzy.” The colonel smirked and gulped down the last lemon tart.
“Why did I invite you here again?”
“You did not. I sent you a letter inviting myself.”
“That is correct, though I retain the authority to evict—”
“Oh, look at the time.” The colonel fished out his pocket watch and sprung to his feet. “It is time for your nap, darling.” He marched to Jane, took the book from her hands, put it gingerly on the table, and expertly helped her out of her chair. “We shall join you at dinner,” he called over his shoulder, and they were gone.
“Excellent chaperons,” Elizabeth muttered.
“Yes, I dare say they are,” Darcy drawled with a gleam in his eyes.
She had never seen him thus. So at ease and free with his words—unguarded and content. She liked to think she was the main reason for his present comfort, but being in his own home must necessarily account for part of the change.
“You are uncommonly quiet,” he remarked with concern.
“I cannot always be witty and loquacious. I must allow for some contemplation upon the inconsistencies of the man I love.”
“I hope you do not believe me to be inconstant?”
“Oh no, that was not what I meant. I am trying to sketch your character, but I do not get on at all,” she lamented playfully.
“I am your servant, madam, and you have the rest of your life to come to an understanding.”
“I am exceedingly sorry to be the cause of a rift in your family,” she admitted.
“You are not. The cause I mean. I am. It was my decision and my decision alone to investigate the Campbells. When I discovered their perfidy, I had no choice but to act. Lord Matlock is a decent man who has erred grievously. Of that fact he is painfully aware and is hiding his shame behind indignation. With time, I believe we shall mend the chasm, if not completely, by some measure.”
“When your reply is so reasonable I cannot object, but I am in awe of your discernment.”
Her comment made Darcy look a bit uncomfortable, and she was sad to see that she had disrupted his ease.
“Discerning and wretchedly blind. I still cannot account for not recognising you at the Meryton assembly.”
“Let us leave the grievances in the past and think only of the future. We have a wedding to plan, and it would be wise to decide as much as we can before my mother is apprised.”
“In this I shall bow to your commands,” he graciously offered. “I understand your sister had an intimate family wedding, but you may have a lavish society event if that would please you.”
He looked at her expectantly. What would he prefer?
“I think not. I would like something similar to Jane’s wedding.”
“Thank heavens!” Darcy muttered breathily.
“And I would not like to wait for as long as it takes my mother to plan a lavish affair.”
“Even better!” he rejoiced.
“I suggest we return to town and wed as soon as possible.”
The expression of heartfelt delight suffused over his face became him very well.
“You cannot imagine the effects your sentiments have on me. I have wished, longed, and prayed for your approbation. Despite my fear of being deemed conceited, I am excessively proud to become your husband.”
Such expression of sentiment could have only one effect on a girl madly in love. She rose, and by default, he did as well. They met in the middle for a violent expression of love. They remained thus engaged until their kiss was broken by the sound of the knocker, which notified them that guests had arrived. Hand in hand they left the library and walked to the entrance hall with nary a thought for what the servants might think.
Miss Eudora Darcy took one look at their joined hands and clapped her own together. “Brava, or should I say bravo. Whoever instigated this happy conclusion, it was about time. Would you not agree, Maeve?”
“Indeed, I am quite tired of scheming to bring the two together. A respite is most welcome.”
“There is still Mary, Kitty, and Lydia,” Miss Eudora Darcy reminded her friend.
“Heaven help us!” Mrs Bennet complained with feeling. “We have come to take you to Edensor, Elizabeth. I see that a change of attire would not go amiss…”
Elizabeth looked down at her sodden hems and shrugged.
“I shall see you in an hour or two.” Darcy spoke as if trying to convince himself that an hour was not that long. “We are to dine at Edensor tonight.”
“Yes,” she agreed breathlessly. Then before she changed her mind, she followed her grandmother out to the waiting carriage.