Page 10 of Winter of Passion (Pride and Prejudice Variation)

D arcy’s night was sleepless and tormenting but utterly delightful.

The recollection of his sweet moments with Elizabeth stirred his senses in a way he had never felt before, and his body, aroused by the nearness of Elizabeth’s, could not find rest, keeping his mind alert during the hours that passed.

Although he had been in the private company of women before, such feelings of joy and pleasure were strange to him.

The responses of his heart, mind, and body to Elizabeth were all new, and it had been so since he first admired her pretty eyes at Sir William Lucas’s party.

A little over a year had passed since then, but it seemed much longer.

He found no courage to recall his suffering during that time as he knew he was to be blamed for most of it, and in the end, it did not even matter — it was now all over.

He was engaged to Elizabeth, and he knew that she shared his felicity.

He smiled to himself remembering her taste and her scent, as well as her willingness to accept his tenderness and affection.

She had opened herself to him entirely, showing that the strength of her love almost matched his.

Almost. Her acceptance had wiped away the bitter traces of her rejection, and he was almost as happy now as he had been desolate last April. Almost.

So many thoughts, so many new feelings, so many events had happened in the two days since his return to Netherfield that it was no wonder he could not sleep.

Even though his body lay resting on the bed, his mind was alert and restless.

If he were to be honest, his body was not resting either.

His senses were stirred as if his blood was boiling in every fibre of his being.

His soul had been lost for months since he fell in love with Elizabeth’s fine eyes.

In truth, he had fallen in love with everything about her, he mused, smiling to himself.

If he had borne the distress for so many months, he could surely bear it for a few more weeks, until Elizabeth agreed to make the engagement public.

What made him nervous was keeping such a secret from Mr Bennet and Georgiana.

They may be angry or hurt if they discovered the deception later on.

However, he would keep his word; Elizabeth was right — he could not trade his peace of mind for the Bingleys’.

He had wronged them too much to cause them more trouble.

The first ball was in a week; afterwards, he would speak to Mr Bennet and ask for his blessing and would inform Georgiana and the colonel. And then the Bingleys, of course.

He would have to wait; he had waited when his heart was bleeding, when his hopes seemed shattered, and when his love felt rejected and despised. Surely he could wait now, when everything he had dreamt of was so close to completion.

Lost in reflection, Darcy eventually fell asleep and only woke when his valet arrived to dress him for breakfast.

The entire family was already gathered around the table when he entered the dining room.

Seeing Elizabeth drew a large smile to his face — he could feel it and tried to conceal it in order to avoid being questioned.

Only the smile in his soul was free to express itself freely.

He noticed Elizabeth’s eyes sparkled and her lips were pressed together, unable to hide her own smile of delight.

Those lips that he had tasted — too soft and sweet to be forgotten; a taste that had only increased the hunger which no food could satiate.

“Darcy, are you unwell?” Bingley asked. “I do not remember you ever being late in the morning.”

“I am perfectly well, thank you.”

“Do you have plans for today?”

“Nothing particular.”

“Jane and I shall go to Longbourn.”

Darcy stole a glance at Elizabeth while Mrs Bingley explained further.

“I wish to spend a little time with my family before the other guests arrive.”

“We are your family too,” Miss Bingley interjected.

“Of course, and you are more than welcome to come with us,” Mrs Bingley replied.

“No, thank you,” Miss Bingley said coldly.

“Then why did you even mention it, Caroline?” Bingley snapped. “Indeed, you are our family too, which is why you are allowed to stay here for as long as you want and to do and say whatever you like.”

“Mr Darcy, if you do not mind, I would like to ask you a few more questions.” Miss Bingley changed the subject.

“Gladly, Miss Bingley, as soon as I return. I have some business to discuss with Mr Bennet, so I shall go with Bingley.”

He had no real business at Longbourn as Mr Bennet was only willing to discuss books, sport, and politics, but he assumed Elizabeth would accompany her sister, and he had no desire to be far away from her.

“I would never imagine that you might have any interests in common with Mr Bennet, or anyone else in the neighbourhood,” Miss Bingley uttered.

“I once thought that myself, but interest can arise when one least expects it.” In that, he was being honest. Despite being Elizabeth’s father, Mr Bennet was a truly pleasant companion, very much like Mr Gardiner.

Immediately after breakfast, the carriage was brought round. It was very cold and cloudy, and the wind blew vigorously. Bingley helped his wife in and immediately sat next to her. Then he suddenly noticed his error and apologised to Elizabeth, who laughed.

“Do not worry, Charles, I am perfectly able to climb into the carriage by myself. Besides, Mr Darcy is here — he may help me if I need it,” she teased them.

“You may depend on me, Miss Bennet,” he replied politely.

Due to Bingley’s continued heedlessness, Darcy found himself happily seated next to Elizabeth. The limited space caused their bodies to touch, and it allowed him the chance to inhale her scent. He felt dizzy, worried about his stirred senses and the lack of control he had over his body.

“So,” Bingley said, “in the end, there will be Jeffrey Banfield, his sister Miss Phoebe Banfield, Mr Gilbert Fitzroy with his wife Sarah and his sister-in-law Lady Laura, Lord Langley with his brother Mr Oliver Morton and their cousins Miss Emily Parsons and Miss Cecilia Parsons, and Colonel Rutley. And Miss Darcy and Colonel Fitzwilliam. Sadly the viscount cannot attend after all.”

“I am not acquainted with any of these people,” Mrs Bingley admitted shyly, obviously worried. “Do you know them all, Mr Darcy?”

“I do. I have previously met them on several occasions.”

“I have never met Lord Langley or his family,” Bingley declared. “They are relatives of my brother Hurst, and Louisa insisted on inviting them. I cannot but wonder why on earth they accepted. Did they not have any better plans?”

“Probably not,” Darcy responded. “From my knowledge, Lord Langley is too fond of cards for his own good, as was his father. They have a title but little money to support it, so they have made it their custom to amuse themselves at the expense of friends.”

“They are all people of consequence, so much above us or our friends…I mean me and my family, not Charles. I am afraid I shall not meet with their approval,” Mrs Bingley continued.

“Do you need their approval?” Darcy asked, and the lady gazed at him, apparently surprised. “I can tell you in all honesty that in character, beauty, and manners, none of the ladies is above you.”

Mrs Bingley blushed and whispered a thank you; he also felt Elizabeth’s gaze on him, so he turned to meet her smile. Then she said, “You should listen to Mr Darcy, Jane. He always speaks his mind, and he never pays compliments unless he believes they are true.”

“I have not always spoken my mind, which I have later come to regret,” he said to Elizabeth, knowing she understood his meaning.

Then he addressed her sister again. “But in this case, Miss Bennet is right. I meant every word, and I would strongly advise you not to worry or allow yourself to be intimidated.”

“You know, Darcy, with you and Elizabeth, I am still uncertain when you are speaking in earnest and when you are quarrelling again,” Bingley said. “And I do not always understand your meaning. I confess I am intimidated by both of you.”

Elizabeth laughed at Bingley, who looked both serious and confused. Darcy smiled too.

“That might have been true in the past, Bingley. But I dare say Miss Bennet and I have fewer reasons to quarrel these days.”

“I agree,” Elizabeth interjected. “As for being intimidated, I understand why you feel so in Mr Darcy’s case. He does have a tendency to intimidate people,” she teased him, her lips moving in a most alluring way.

“That is true, Elizabeth,” Bingley replied. “But I would not want to argue with you either.”

Elizabeth laughed again. “This is not a proper way for a brother to speak of his sister. Such claims would surely scare away people who do not know me. Please be so kind as to not paint me in so frightening a manner in front of your guests — I do not wish to scare them.”

“Do you care if you scare them, Miss Bennet,” Darcy asked, taking the opportunity to tease her back.

“Not at all, sir. I trust that those whose opinions matter are not easily scared.”

By the time they arrived at Longbourn, the wind was blowing hard, and the sky had become dark with clouds.

They entered the house, welcomed enthusiastically by the Bennets. Mrs Phillips and Lady Lucas also happened to be visiting, so Darcy was happy to accompany Mr Bennet and Bingley to the library. Sadly, there was little peace there either due to the presence of Sir William and Mr Phillips.

For more than an hour, Darcy bore the company reasonably well. Sir William’s formal manners — some of them borrowed from Mr Collins — and his pretensions of greatness were somewhat grating, but Mr Bennet’s dry humour and wry observations made the situation entertaining enough.

The visit ended around four o’clock. It was already dark, and a few drops of rain quickly turned into sleet. In the carriage, it was so cold that Mrs Bingley cuddled into her husband’s chest, and he embraced her.

Elizabeth and Darcy could not afford such sweet comfort. However, they were close enough for their thighs to touch, making him feel warm inside despite the freezing weather.

As soon as they arrived at Netherfield, Bingley and his wife hurried to their apartment.

Darcy and Elizabeth climbed the stairs to their rooms, together but at a suitable distance.

Every fibre of his body yearned to touch her, to hold her, to kiss her.

He hoped that such an opportunity would arise upstairs, considering the proximity of their rooms. Only a few moments would be enough.

Only a short embrace, a brief touch of their lips.

It would happen later that night — of that, he had no doubts.

They had already agreed on that when they had separated the night before; but there were several hours until then, and he was too impatient to wait.

And too selfish, he realised. At every step, Elizabeth glanced at him, and he dared to assume her thoughts were no different.

Just as they reached the landing, a high, nasal voice startled him and made him turn abruptly.

“Mr Darcy, I am so glad you have returned. I am ready to have that conversation at any time convenient, sir. Dinner will be in about two hours, so I believe we have plenty of time.”

Darcy felt so irritated that he needed a moment to calm himself. After all, he could not blame Miss Bingley, since it was he who had suggested they speak later; refusing her would have been a great impoliteness.

“Of course, Miss Bingley. We may talk now if you wish,” he agreed, turning. Out of the corner of his eye, he observed Elizabeth and hoped the shadow on her face betrayed her regret for the missed opportunity. They would have to wait till tonight — there was nothing else to be done.