A Touch of Night (24 page)

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The next day Bingley came to visit Jane and was able to bring a good report of Darcy's recovery. By the end of the week all three, Bingley, Darcy, and Georgiana, made the trip from Netherfield to Longbourn together. Other than that he was paler and thinner than he had been heretofore, his elegant clothes hanging ever so slightly on his frame, and that he leaned heavily upon his friend's arm, Mr. Darcy showed no signs of his recent harrowing brush with death. It was impossible, in fact, to believe he'd come so close to dying so recently.

Darcy and Elizabeth barely said two words to each other after the usual polite greetings, but they could not keep their gazes from travelling to each other, only to dart away as soon as one noticed the other looking. Mrs. Bennet was also remarkably silent, awed by the great presence before her. Jane and Bingley were perfectly oblivious to everything, wrapped in their own little cocoon of love. The saving grace was that Lydia and Kitty chattered away with Georgiana as if nothing were amiss.

Finally it fell to Mr. Bennet to nudge his wife into orchestrating a little time alone for the two young couples.

"I do not see what good you think it will do leaving Elizabeth in there with that taciturn gentleman. You know they cannot stand each other," she said to her husband in the hallway, after urging the younger girls to take the air in the rose garden. "They will just be in Jane and Bingley's way."

"Trust me," said Mr. Bennet. "I will soon invite them into my study and the courting couple will be left with no chaperone at all."

Mrs. Bennet seemed quite satisfied with that idea, though her husband knew when she finally grasped the depth of his machinations she would be in raptures. Ten thousand a year and a house in town were as good as a lord when it came to suitors for her girls.

As soon as the parlour door had closed behind the elder Bennets, Mr. Darcy moved to a chair closer to Elizabeth. At his shortness of breath she said, "Do not overexert yourself, Mr. Darcy."

"Ah, my forceful nurse has returned." Darcy laughed softly. "I rather hoped it was Miss Elizabeth I spoke to. But if it is Nurse Elizabeth, I shall hasten to obey or you may force another cup of that vile herbal remedy down my throat."

"Can you actually remember it? I thought you too far gone in your delirium to be cognisant of anything that was occurring during that awful time." She blushed deeply at the thought of the things she had said to him as she had lain by his side.

He leaned forward and said reassuringly, "I remember nothing, only the taste." Then he closed his eyes and took a few deep breaths before continuing on. "I must thank you -- I owe you my life. What you did was . . ."

"I did the least I could do, Mr. Darcy. What were you willing to give up to free me? Let us talk no more about it."

"I would do it over again," he said, his emerald eyes kindling.

"And I too," she whispered.

He reached out and took her hand. Stroked the back of it. "I want you to know that my feelings for you remain unchanged, but I realise I took a great liberty last April in what I asked of you. The fact cannot be overlooked that I am a dragon. Association with me has put your life in great danger and will continue to do so. I cannot ask that of you. And if we had children, it would always be possible that..."

"Have I no say in what danger I am willing to take on?" asked Elizabeth in a steady voice, little above a whisper. "Are my feelings not to be considered at all?"

"Your gratitude and your kindness to me are something I will cherish forever," said Darcy, "but I cannot allow you to throw yourself away on me. I am not worthy of such devotion to duty and honour. As much as I want more than anything else on earth to be able to call you my wife, your safety means much more to me than my own happiness."

"It is neither duty nor gratitude -- it is love!" whispered Elizabeth, blushing and stammering.

"After the heightened emotions of the past few days it may seem to you that it is love you feel for me, but I know your true feelings, though I believe they have softened somewhat since that day you expressed them so clearly to me." He put a hand out to shush her as she attempted to interrupt. "And your heart is so good I know you have long regretted what you said. But pity is not a valid basis for marriage either. You will find a whole man one day, one who is deserving of your love, a man without impediment whom you can love completely, and who will be able to give you the security I cannot. And the promise of a family untarnished by this horrific taint I carry."

"Never," she said. She felt her voice tremble on the edge of tears and controlled it, forcefully, making it steady and matter of fact. "I shall never marry. You see, I could only marry for love, and I can never love anyone but you. So . . . I shall remain a spinster and teach Jane's ten children to embroider cushions and play their instruments very wretchedly indeed."

Darcy put his arms about Elizabeth and held her gently, letting her adamant tears soak into his coat. "You only think it is love," he told her. "I cannot put you in harm's way like that again."

"But Wickham is dead," she said with some vehemence.

"Wickham is only a small part of the danger life with me would bring. He might have told someone. Someone else might discover it in the future. Are you truly prepared to see your husband beheaded in public? Or your children? To carry that shame the rest of your life, even if you evade death as a collaborator?"

A discreet cough brought them apart.

"I see you have come to an understanding," said Mr. Bennet who had managed to enter the room and come quite close without either of them noticing.

Mr. Darcy looked at him in appeal. "Surely you can talk some sense into your daughter, sir. I love her too much to allow her to ally her life to mine. You would not want her life endangered, I am certain."

"No, I would not," agreed Mr. Bennet. "I think it is time for the three of us to adjourn to my study."

When he had them duly ensconced in his study, seated in comfortable chairs and suitably fortified by brandy and sherry respectively -- and Elizabeth's tears were dried -- Mr. Bennet turned to Darcy and said, "Is this how you deal with all your responsibilities? Shove them under the carpet and expect them to go away?'

"I beg your pardon?" said Darcy, his eyes widening in shock.

"You have compromised my daughter and yet you have no intention of doing what is right by her. I find that shameful, young man. I will not tolerate it. Not under my roof."

"Compromised? Never! I have always treated Eli -- Miss Elizabeth -- with the utmost respect."

Mr. Bennet leaned forward suddenly and frowned menacingly at Darcy. "Respect? Since when is it respectful to cavort naked in the company of an innocent young maiden? Since when is it not compromising for a lady to be alone in a bedchamber with a gentleman for any period of time? Did I not just a few minutes ago see you with your arms around my daughter in a most improper manner? And yet, somehow, you expect me to support you in this willful, disrespectful, ill-treatment of the most prized of my progeny."

"I would never ill-treat her! I love her more than life itself. But you must see that it would be selfish and unfair of me to expect her to bear the responsibility of all that I am burdened with."

Mr. Bennet poured himself another drink and stared straight into Darcy's eyes for a full minute before responding. "I would not have chosen a dragon for my daughter," he finally said with a sigh. "I know the dangers of this condition, Mr. Darcy. At least as well as you do. It has forced me to break my wife's heart and lead a retired country existence instead of the merry life amid the ton that she -- and I, once upon a time -- would have preferred. It has forced me to isolate myself in this library, particularly at certain times of the month. But . . . I am alive, and I do have a family.

"For good or ill, my daughter has set her heart upon having you. If you cannot respect her virtue, at least respect her intelligence. She is capable of making her own decisions and living up to them. She knows the dangers and she's enough of an adult to understand the responsibility. She is just the wife you need. And you will not be encumbered by her not knowing your secret. You will have a full and willing partner to your life. The sooner you get off your high horse of overblown honor the better. The first time it put my Elizabeth in danger, this time it has made her intolerably miserable. I am beginning to wish you had succumbed to your injuries after all and stopped cutting up my peace."

"Papa!" cried Elizabeth. "You are being unfair. Mr. Darcy is the best of men. You are judging his nobility too harshly."

"If he were less noble, I would be wishing you joy at this moment, Elizabeth my dear."

"Mr. Bennet," said Darcy, rising to his full height. "Would you do me the great kindness of granting me a few minutes alone with your daughter? Here in this room? At once?"

"It would be my pleasure," said Mr. Bennet. "My cards have all been played, and to admirable effect, I believe." He smiled broadly as he left the room.

Darcy had sat down again, and held both his hands out to Elizabeth. She took them readily.

"Do not think I did not want to marry you. There is nothing I want more. I thought I was being unselfish and noble, but I see now I was being boorish, presumptuous, and completely foolish. Your happiness is my greatest wish. Will you . . . will you allow me to say how ardently I love and admire you, and how happy I would be to hear you say you will accept my hand in marriage?"

Elizabeth knelt before him and pressed her head against his chest. "I accept your hand, and your talons, your heart, your body, your wings, your scales. I love all of you, Fitzwilliam Darcy, and while I love your sense of honour and nobility, I would prefer not to be subjected to them in such a manner again."

"My love!" he sighed. "My dearest, loveliest, Elizabeth."

"And while we are on the subject," she continued, "I want you to know that . ."

Darcy was never to find out exactly what Elizabeth wanted him to know, because he lost no time in stopping her pronouncement with a kiss that rendered them both completely insensible for more than a few minutes. And that kiss led to another, and yet again another.

Chapter Twenty

"Who knew leaving Mr. Darcy and Elizabeth together would turn out quite so well," rhapsodized Mrs. Bennet to her husband. "It was a good idea of mine, was it not? Sometimes all these men need is a little push. And as lovely as our daughters are... well!"

Mr. Bennet smirked as he nodded his agreement, then withstood another barrage of his wife's gloating about the fact Mr. Darcy was worth ten thousand a year.

"We must make it a double wedding!" cried Mrs. Bennet. "All the neighborhood shall envy our good fortune -- two daughters married and to such fine, rich gentlemen. It must be before the end of summer. We shall have arbors festooned with flowers from the doorway of the church to the carriages. And such a wedding breakfast as has never been tasted in these parts! The glazed hams! The rashers of bacon! It will be sumptuous!"

It was a blessing that Mrs. Bennet found Mr. Darcy to be such an alarmingly impressive personage that she was somewhat less effusive in his presence. She did, however, make it her mission to discover all his favorite foods and present them for his enjoyment upon her dining table every evening.

The courting couples spent the greater part of their days enjoying the fresh air and warm sunshine in the gardens of Longbourn. The recuperative powers of such a setting combined with the sources of happiness his engagement provided soon had Mr. Darcy restored to full health. Each day he was able to walk further and further until the rose garden was not enough and the little wilderness on one side of the house became the favoured destination.

"I can quite see how you got on once you were fully in love with me," teased Elizabeth one morning, "but how did it all start? I do recall that at that first assembly I did not make a good impression upon you at all."

"I may well ask the same question, my dearest Elizabeth. I remember very clearly a time when I was the last man on earth you would consider allying yourself with." His smile showed that he bore no bitter feelings at this recollection.

"I must admit," said Elizabeth, grinning wickedly, "that while I held you in aversion for quite some time, I think it was love at first sight with the dragon."

"What a strange woman you are, Miss Elizabeth Bennet," he said, half amused. "For you must know that most maidens would run screaming from a dragon. I could not believe when you touched me. Petted my... my muzzle."

Elizabeth felt herself blush. Oh, it had been all that was improper, but she could not regret it. The remembered feel of the dragon's muzzle under her hand made her wonder only when she would get to touch it again. Surely, when they were married! "Well," she said, to distract him. "Then all Bennet girls are very unusual women, for Lydia can talk of nothing but the dragon. Why, I am sure if she found out you and he are one, she would bid fair to attach you, even now."

He laughed, as it seemed despite himself. "No one can attach me but you, Elizabeth. Though I must say it is very odd to hear my prospective sister-in-law describe my other self in such glowing terms."

"I'd have described your other self in just such glowing terms, myself, were I silly enough to think it should be spoken of," Elizabeth said, lightly. "Particularly," she said, guessing the memory kindled him as much as herself. "After I got to pet your muzzle."

Heat glowed in the depth of Darcy's jewel-like eyes, and Elizabeth could almost see the dragon begging for release as his face closed upon hers.

"And now?" he asked, his breath warm on her cheek.

"And now I know I always saw your heart when I looked into the dragon's eyes. It was always you that I loved, for the two of you are one -- inseparable." She turned her face, and when their lips met it was like when a sudden gust of wind brings a fire from smouldering coals to great bursts of flame.

"Our wedding day cannot come too soon," whispered Darcy as he broke away and held her from him. "We must resume walking and talk of something mundane."

"Like the size of the garden, and the number of trees?" asked Elizabeth, her eyebrows arching provocatively.

"Yes," said Darcy agreeably, "you could comment on the number of birds and I could possibly say something about the late roses."

They continued walking side by side and Elizabeth laid her head upon his shoulder in pure contentment.