Chapter 33

Darcy saw everything as well as overheard the ladies' conversation. Knowing Elizabeth was in distress, he followed her to the antechamber and sat beside her on the sofa.

"You are right to be upset," he told her. "Your sister has behaved in a way that defies all she ought to know as proper."

"Oh, Mr. Darcy, this confirms all my fears!" Elizabeth said. She proceeded to tell him of the letters and visits pertaining to Jane's conduct.

"I could not believe it of Jane, until I had seen it for myself. I am afraid she has become entirely ungoverned, and whether it is due to her friends' influence or her chaperone's, I cannot say. She has never behaved thusly when at home."

Darcy's distress was nearly equal to Elizabeth's after hearing her report. "This is a serious business, indeed! You were right to confide in me, though." He stood up from the sofa.

"What do you plan to do?" Elizabeth asked.

"I will call on Bingley tomorrow morning, and urge him to propose to your sister. He must understand the precarious position he has put Jane in, to allow their courtship to carry on so publicly without declaring himself. A lady's reputation hangs by a single thread, and a situation such as this is nearly as grave as the one you and I found ourselves in. "

Darcy observed the deep anguish written on Elizabeth's face. He put his hand on her shoulder reassuringly. "I will not rest until this is settled."

"Ought I write to my father?" she asked, remembering her conversation with Mrs. Gardiner.

"Hold off until after I speak to Bingley. If he can be brought to reason, as I believe he will, then there is no need to alarm your father."

Elizabeth nodded. "Thank you, Mr. Darcy."

S

Though the hour was late, Darcy knew Bingley's habits enough to know he would still be awake. He paid him a call at his quarters on Berkeley Square.

Bingley answered the door himself, still dressed in his opera clothes, although he had shed his outer coat and cravat. "Darcy, good fellow! I am surprised to see you at this hour. To what do I owe this visit?"

Darcy explained he had something of importance to communicate regarding his relationship with Miss Bennet.

"Goodness, this sounds serious!" Bingley exclaimed. "I had better pour us some drinks while you tell me about it." Heading to the room which doubled as a sitting room and study, he took out a decanter of brandy and two glasses.

Darcy took only a sip from his, before setting it down, situating himself on the sofa opposite his friend to begin. Without naming anyone in particular, Darcy told Bingley of the reports which had been circulating about their behavior in recent weeks. "Elizabeth is, rightfully, concerned for her sister's reputation."

"But, we have done nothing wrong!" Bingley insisted. "Trips to the theater, carriage rides in the park, dancing together at the assembly, or conversations at a dinner party– these are the sorts of innocent diversions we have partaken of. Nothing untoward in the slightest."

"Nothing untoward, really?" Darcy's eyebrows raised. "You seemed rather too close tonight at the opera. Your intimacy drew the remarks of others, even across the theater from you."

Bingley's cheeks pinked. "Well, it is not as though we have been discovered in the same bedroom in the middle of the night," he said, with a touch of bitterness.

Darcy ignored the slight and continued. "Be that as it may, the flirtation between the two of you has not gone unnoticed, and the length of your courtship is by now such that people have begun to speculate whether you mean to propose to Miss Bennet or merely string her along."

"People ought to concern themself with their own affairs and leave others to manage themselves!" Bingley complained. He downed the remainder of his glass and poured himself another.

"I could not agree more; however, you are aware, as well as I am, of the harm that comes from malicious gossip. Miss Bennet deserves better than the unkind remarks of the ton and deserves to be treated with respect from the gentlemen of her acquaintance."

Bingley cried, "I do respect Miss Bennet, entirely!"

"I have no doubt of it!" Darcy sighed. "I hate to ask you, but what are your feelings towards Miss Bennet?"

"I feel nothing but the warmest regard for her. She is, in every sense, an angel– her appearance, her manners, her disposition– all are exactly suited to my own. In short, she is perfection itself."

"Then you love her?"

"Love her!" Bingley laughed. "Yes, I suppose I do love her, as much as I have loved any woman; perhaps even a bit more."

"Bingley," Darcy said, his tone growing more serious, "I must insist, for Miss Bennet's sake as much as my wife's, that you not trifle with Miss Bennet. If you love her, and mean to marry her, then I ask that you not hesitate in making her an offer, for the sake of her reputation after the expectations which you have raised."

"Good gracious, Darcy!" Bingley exclaimed, setting his glass down on the side table. "Of course, I mean to marry her! I had always intended that I should, at some time, settle down with a woman of my choosing, and as I have said, there is no one who better suits my tastes and desires than Miss Bennet. I have been in no hurry to make an offer, perhaps out of my own selfish desire to continue enjoying the freedom that a bachelor's life affords me and having, at present, full command of the fortune left to me by my father.

"I suppose, if I am honest, I have been overly indulgent in enjoying such a life, without a care except for my own whims, and without considering the ramifications to the lady in question. But I have no wish to injure the lady– far from it! Nor would I suffer you, who is now her brother in law, to have any cause to challenge me for her honor."

"Nor would I ever wish to!" Darcy declared, a laugh escaping his lips, despite the seriousness. An image of himself and Bingley, facing off with pistols in Hyde Park, seemed ludicrous.

Bingley shifted his position on the sofa. "I thank you, Darcy, for bringing to light the graveness of this business, and with your blessing, procured in advance of that blessing which must surely follow from Miss Bennet's own father, I shall propose to Miss Bennet without delay."

"Excellent. The sooner it is accomplished, the sooner we may celebrate your impending marriage," Darcy said, picking up his glass from the side table and downing it.

S

Darcy returned home to a still-anxious Elizabeth, who was pacing the drawing room floor in anticipation of his return.

"How did it go? Was he able to be brought to reason?"

"Bingley has declared his intention to propose to your sister, and I trust he will do so imminently," he told her.

"Oh, thank goodness!" Elizabeth said, sinking onto a nearby chair in relief. "In truth, this is a far better outcome than I could have hoped for. I feared I would need to implore my father to act on Jane's behalf. Now, I am spared from the necessity of writing such a letter. I am grateful to you, Mr. Darcy, for what you have done."

"I have only done as a brother of my wife's sister ought to do," Darcy said. Nevertheless, there was a feeling of warmth in his breast, to be the recipient of her gratitude. The smile it brought to her face– one he had seen her display on many occasions, but which had rarely been bestowed on him particularly– sent a rush of emotions flooding through his brain. He fought against the sudden desire to take her into his arms and embrace her, and to kiss those sweet, luscious lips of hers.

The knowledge that she did not like him– that she had married him against her will– battled in his heart, waging against the hopes that perhaps he had earned some degree of estimation in her eyes, and the still deeper wish that he might one day make her love him.

His love for her was certain. He had known it from so early a time, even before their fateful night, when the first tender stirrings of his heart induced him, along with his sense of honor, to marry her. And now, so many months into their marriage, she had become a permanent fixture in his heart, one for which the loss of would be nothing short of devastating.

He longed to declare these feelings to her, to make known to her the depth of his love. But he had not the courage to declare it in the face of possible rejection. To hear her say aloud that she could never love him the way that he loved her, would be worse than to continue on in silent adoration, his love masked by a congenial arrangement of marriage between them, each living out their roles as master and mistress over his estate, but never more intimate than business partners and housemates.

S

Elizabeth was determined that Mr. Darcy, who had already been so valiant in coming forward to Mr. Bingley on her sister's behalf, should not suffer yet another night of uncomfortable sleep on the cot, which was far too short for his long frame to properly stretch out. Offering him the bed that night, she declared she would sleep on the cot.

"Absolutely not!" he argued. "What sort of gentleman would I be, to allow my lady to sleep on an uncomfortable cot, whilst I enjoyed the comfort of her bed?"

His turn of phrase, though meant innocently, caused a blush to rise to her cheeks. Disabusing the unladylike thoughts as soon as they arose, she countered, saying, "I could not see you suffer another night in such an uncomfortable bed either. You must choose, I think, between sleeping here in the bed, or returning to your own bed."

Darcy rubbed his lumbar region, which still ached from the previous night's restless slumber. "I will not deny that the prospect of stretching myself fully is far more agreeable than curling up on this small bed. But I cannot allow you to remain alone and unguarded. Will you not consent to a maid sleeping here, in lieu of Parker, as she is still ill?"

Elizabeth shook her head. "Impossible. As I mentioned previously, I wish for as few people as possible to know of my condition. You appear reluctant out of some delicacy towards me. Are we not husband and wife? And have we not shared a bed once before? Twice, if we are being precise. I am not so repulsed by you that I cannot contend with sharing a bed– under perfectly platonic terms, of course– when it is your very sense of chivalry which leads you to lend your protection to me, to safeguard me against my nocturnal wanderings."

Her speech seemed to have shocked him, but he consented. Elizabeth felt the heat rise to her cheeks once more. He retreated to his own quarters to dress for bed, and Polly entered to attend her.

"The woolen nightgown, if you please, Polly," Elizabeth requested.

"Are you certain, ma'am? The air this evening is quite warm. I fear such a warm gown will be too hot, and bring you discomfort in your sleep. Would you not rather wear your cotton nightgown?"

"I feel a sudden chill, Polly, and therefore I think the woolen one shall suit better."

"Very well, ma'am." Polly nodded.

Though she had been emboldened to invite Mr. Darcy to sleep in the same bed with her, Elizabeth recalled the vulnerability she felt on their wedding night, sleeping in such a thin shift, and treated the additional modesty the woolen gown provided as a sort of armor.

The woolen gown was uncomfortably warm for April, just as Polly said it would be. Nevertheless, Elizabeth felt a shiver as she climbed into her bed. Mr. Darcy knocked at the door before entering. He nodded to her before joining on the other side of the bed.

"I am tired and overwrought from the day's events, so I shall sleep now," she declared. "I wish you a good night's rest, Mr. Darcy." She quickly blew out the candle on her nightstand.

"Likewise, Mrs. Darcy," he bid her before blowing out his own candle.

Elizabeth shifted under the covers, her body facing away from him. She willed herself to try to sleep, but she was too keenly aware of his presence.

She felt the bed move as he adjusted his own position to a more comfortable one. "Mr. Darcy?" She whispered .

"Yes?" came his soft answer.

"Do you suppose Jane and Mr. Bingley will be happy together, once they are married?"

There was a moment of silence before he said, "I do not know. I have not yet had sufficient time to observe Bingley and your sister together since we parted from them last autumn. When I asked him of his feelings for her, his answer was almost glib; though he owned to loving her and having always intended marriage, he confessed a selfishness of enjoyment in a bachelor's life. Are you certain of Jane's feelings towards him?"

"I am not," she said. "When we were at Longbourn, I would have said differently, so convinced I was of Jane's being enamored, but now…"

"You begin to fear Miss Bingley's assertions may be true, that Jane's motives are purely mercenary," Darcy finished.

"Yes," Elizabeth said softly. "And I know what you must think of my family, of, of…me…"she trailed off again.

"Elizabeth," Darcy murmured, turning his body towards hers. "Regardless of how your family may appear, and whatever truth there may be to their motivation, I have never applied such to you. I know you did not intend to entrap me into marriage for my fortune, as others have insinuated."

"Thank you, for your faith in me." Elizabeth squeezed her eyes shut against the tears forming in them, letting a few drops leak onto her pillowcase. "It pains me to think that my own sister would stoop to such levels."

"Then there is something you should know."

Hearing the seriousness in his voice, Elizabeth turned to face him. The curves of his jaw were barely visible in the dim lighting. The warmth of his breath upon her sent another shiver up her spine.

"At the Netherfield ball," he began, "there was an incident. I stumbled upon Jane and Bingley in the study. It appeared she had lured him there under false pretense, claiming to have lost a necklace during her stay, when she was ill."

"What are you saying? That Jane attempted to compromise Mr. Bingley?"

"Yes, that is what I suspected, when I found them there. By all appearances…well, let us just say that had your father been the one to find them, I think the wedding the following morning might have been a double one."

"But they would not have had a license!" Elizabeth said, her voice raising slightly.

"It is a figure of speech. In short, I am of the belief that your sister intended to entrap him, and might have succeeded, had I not interrupted when I did. Bingley denied it entirely, being too much a believer in Miss Bennet's innocence, holding fast to the veracity of her story, but it was enough to induce me to persuade him that he would be better served by removing himself to London. His sisters were in agreement with me, and as they meant to go to Hurst Place, with or without him, and Bingley had no wish to remain at Netherfield alone, he agreed to the move. I think his inclination for Jane was slight enough that, had she not proceeded to follow him to Town and reinsert herself into his life, he might have forgotten about her for the next "angel" that came along, whomever she might be."

Elizabeth was silent for the present, her heart grieved at this piece of news. At length, she whispered, "Thank you for divulging this to me. However painful, I deserved to know the truth of my sister's conduct."

"I would have told you sooner, but I feared for how you might react."

"That I can well believe. I do not think I would have accepted it, had I not heard the reports of others and seen Jane's behavior for myself." Elizabeth felt her eyes beginning to close .

"You must sleep now," Darcy said. "The hour grows late." This time, Elizabeth did not turn from him, nor did Darcy turn from her. They both closed their eyes, and the last thing Elizabeth remembered was the gentle sound of Darcy's snores.

S

Elizabeth wandered through a dark corridor. The light from her candle made eerie shapes on the wall, ghostly shadows that seemed to reach out to grab her. She turned down a side corridor, looking for the door to her bedroom, but each door she tried was locked. Reaching a dead-end, she turned around. Nothing about the house appeared familiar.

She returned to the central passageway, but now, she could not tell which way she had come from. There were several corridors, all leading off of this one, and she was unsure which one led to her bedroom. She chose the one she thought she had come from, but the paintings on the wall seemed strange to her. After a few steps, she turned back– only to find a wall blocking her path. She took a right down another corridor, but this, too, appeared to be the wrong one. Lost in this endless labyrinth of twists and turns, she became frightened.

Finally, she came across a large door that seemed somehow to be the correct one. She turned the handle with ease. In the room, Mr. Darcy was before her, standing by the fireplace as though he had been waiting for her there.

"Elizabeth." The sound of her name on his lips, coupled with the intense desire in his eyes, caused her to tremble. He was dressed in a loose-fitting white shirt, remarkably like the one she had given him at Christmas, with the neck unbuttoned, exposing his bare chest. "At last, you have come." He drew a few steps towards her as she came to him, unbidden. The door shut of its own accord behind her .

"What am I doing here, in your room?" She asked as he took her into his arms. She felt herself powerless to resist.

"Exactly what you meant to do," he murmured into her ear in a husky voice.

"I do not understand. I never meant to be here. I do not wish to trap you."

"You are not here to entrap me, but to offer yourself to me, willingly, as you have longed to do."

Heat rose to her cheeks as he said this. He leaned towards her and began planting kisses along her cheeks and her chin. "But I…but I do not want your money, Mr. Darcy," she stammered.

"What do you want, then, Elizabeth?" He continued to plant kisses downward along her neck.

"I want…you…" she whispered. This permission was all he needed before covering her lips with his. Elizabeth felt the intensity of her desire burst into flames as she returned his kiss, a passion like she had never before felt enveloping her as they kissed, again and again. She pulled him down onto the bed, the fervor of their kisses increasing all the more as she felt the weight of him atop her. Then suddenly, someone was shaking her, and she heard him saying her name repeatedly: "Elizabeth, Elizabeth– ELIZABETH!"