To Conquer Mr. Darcy (8 page)

“You make yourself sound quite misanthropic!”

“Hardly that; I enjoyed the company of those I knew well and trusted, but I had not yet learned to overcome my native shyness. I was much like Georgiana is now, which is why I do not like to force her to socialize, and instead encourage her to find friends in a way that is more tolerable to her. I cannot imagine that she will ever feel any more comfort or enjoyment than do I at balls and assemblies.”

Elizabeth struggled to digest this information; of the many descriptions she could apply to Mr. Darcy, ‘shy’ had never once crossed her mind, yet he seemed earnest and straightforward. She decided that she would need to consider this revelation further when she had more leisure to reflect on it. “Georgiana is fortunate to have such an understanding guardian, then.”

“Perhaps she is, but I am aware that I might be doing her a disservice in not forcing her to learn to cope with her shyness. I wonder sometimes if my protection makes her shyness worse.”

She smiled up at him, and impulsively laid her head against his shoulder. “You worry a great deal, it seems.”

Darcy forgot to breathe in the rush of pleasure that her affectionate gesture gave him, and wished that he could hold onto this moment forever. He longed to reciprocate, to pull her closer and to bury his face in her hair, but for once he remembered the need to subdue his own desires, that the most effective encouragement he could give her was not to frighten her away. The desire to touch her was more than he could completely suppress, however, and he found himself turning her hand in his so that he could stroke the soft skin of the inside of her fingers and her palm. As he bent his head slightly to observe it better, one of her curls brushed gently against his face with a sensation that left him achingly conscious of his need for her.

His response to her action had overwhelmed his attention to their conversation, and it was only with effort that he was able to recollect what she had been saying. “I admit that worrying is one of my failings. Does it come as a surprise to you, then?” He congratulated himself on having constructed an articulate sentence under these circumstances.

A smile crossed her lips. “I confess that I was beginning to catch an intimation of it, sir.” Ironically, she was at that point doing an excellent job of worrying herself, wondering what capricious impulse had prompted her to lay her head against him, at a time when she knew full well that she should be avoiding even the appearance of encouraging him. How could she blame him for presuming too much when she persisted in behaving as if she wished for and encouraged his advances? He had caught her off-guard by expressing his insecurities about his behavior, so different from his usual aggravating high-handedness, but there was no excuse for her improper behavior.

It was past time for her to admit that her physical reaction to Darcy’s company had gone beyond her control, a thought that both frightened and appalled her, since it went against her longstanding belief in her own ability to restrain herself. Yet it could not be denied; so small a cause as his caresses of her palm created such an ache inside her that she knew that, were he to try to kiss her again, she would put up no resistance, and would against her will welcome his touch. The realization that she was at risk of permitting sufficient liberties to feel obliged to marry was sufficiently alarming to override the temptation to continue to enjoy his attentions.

Without any outward sign of her distress, Elizabeth suggested it was time for them to return to Netherfield, and Darcy, though quite reluctant to end the enchanting interlude, managed to agree in an appropriately gentlemanly manner so as to allow them to begin the walk back in a harmonious manner that they managed to maintain until reaching their destination.

At Netherfield, Elizabeth expressed a desire to enquire after Georgiana’s health before her departure for Longbourn, a request to which Darcy readily acceded, as he was happy for any excuse to prolong their contact. The patient turned out to have improved substantially in their absence, and was in fact out of bed and enjoying the sunlight through the sitting room window. Darcy warmly expressed his pleasure in her recovery, a sentiment that Elizabeth echoed with a bit more reservation, her suspicions being raised that Georgiana’s illness might have been a ruse to put her brother and her friend alone together for an extended period of time.

“Georgiana, Miss Bennet revealed a most interesting piece of news to me today. It turns out that her forthcoming travels will be taking her to Derbyshire, and that she will be spending some time in Lambton,” said Darcy.

“Really?” cried Georgiana, her eyes alight with enthusiasm. “You must come to Pemberley, then! I would much prefer to go to Pemberley than London; we have not been there since December. Could we not do that, William?”

“If that is your wish, we certainly may; I had not made a decision between Pemberley and London as yet, and we had originally planned to journey thither later this summer,” Darcy said indulgently.

Elizabeth eyed him with amusement, thinking how neatly he had put that decision on his sister, knowing full well what she would suggest. She had known the subject of Derbyshire would not be dropped so easily as it had been on their walk, but she had not been expecting an ambush on the subject quite so quickly. “I must urge you not to base your plans on mine; I will be at the disposal of my aunt and uncle during our tour, and they have a busy itinerary planned already.”

“Oh, but Pemberley would be an excellent location from which to visit so many of the sights of Derbyshire! Please, you must allow us to invite your aunt and uncle; I would so love to have you at Pemberley,” said Georgiana.

This was rather stronger than Elizabeth had expected; she had thought they would be invited to call at Pemberley, not to stay there. She suspected that Georgiana did not understand about her connections—Darcy himself had learned to be polite to her family, but having some of them to stay at Pemberley was likely to be a different question. “Your invitation is very gracious, and I would certainly be delighted if the opportunity arose to see you while I was in Lambton, but I must insist that I have no say over the planning of our journey.”

Georgiana, however, was not to be easily dismissed, and pleaded with Elizabeth to consider the possibility until Darcy, who had managed to stay out of the discussion, rescued her by offering to drive her home.

They set off in their usual manner, and as they drove off Elizabeth, following their ritual, slipped her hand into his. Darcy looked down at her with a smile that warmed his features becomingly. “Do you have any idea how much pleasure you give me by doing that?” he asked quietly.

Elizabeth, who had much rather not hear about it at all, especially when her insides seemed to give a very peculiar lurch at his words, tried to avoid serious discussion by responding playfully, “Hopefully enough to compensate for a small fraction of the trouble I cause you!”

He looked at her seriously. “I would not wish to be anyplace else.”

Her cheeks warm, Elizabeth dropped her eyes. “Mr. Darcy, I would prefer not to enter into this discussion at this point,” she said in a voice barely above a whisper.

“As you wish, then,” he said, as neutrally as he could. He wondered if she had any idea what this was like for him, waiting for days for nothing more than the chance of a few hours with her, and then only a little time alone. How was he to stay sane when he was forced to hope for her to allow him to hold her hand, when what he wanted was to take her in his arms and kiss her in such a way that would brand her forever his—what it was like to love her so desperately, to dream each night of taking her in his bed, and to need her affection and approval so badly, yet to receive only ambiguous signals regarding her feelings about his attentions. She had taught him the hard way about humility, and, by God, now she was doing the same thing with patience, and he hated this lesson just as much as the one before it.

Perhaps this was becoming too intense. Perhaps he needed to remember he had other responsibilities in life besides wooing Elizabeth Bennet. A little perspective might help him through this. If she held to her usual pattern, it would be two, or more likely three days until he saw her again. Perhaps a night or two in London was what he needed. Certainly he had enough business piling up there that required his attention. And then, if he could get her to Pemberley, even for only a few days, where he could see her every day, every morning over breakfast, every evening, where he could take her for walks through the gardens and the park, without having to worry about what her parents would think, or who would see them…
If you do not stop thinking this way instantly,
he told himself sternly,
you will end up doing something rash that you are certain to regret later. Think about London. Think about anything else at all.

Elizabeth had noted his withdrawal following their earlier conversation. She was initially glad he had heeded her request to discontinue the discussion, but was now less happy with the result, as his behavior was no longer what she expected under these circumstances. They never spoke much on these rides, but he had always used this brief time alone to look at her with a warmth that was hidden at other times, and to take every possible advantage in caressing her hand. Now he seemed more withdrawn, but perhaps that was only because they had already had a great deal of time together that day. She was beginning to have enough of a sense of him, though, to suspect that this was not the case, and she wondered what the cause might be.

Perhaps he was more discouraged by her earlier request not to speak of his feelings than she had thought, or perhaps it had been one refusal more than he was felt prepared to bear after she had also avoided the invitation to Pemberley. They had certainly done their share of quarrelling earlier in the day, and that she had needed to limit his familiarity on more than one occasion might also be construed as discouraging. Well, if he was disturbed by her decisions, his position was indefensible, since she had been more than justified in each of her refusals, and without question should have taken those refusals much farther than she had. As she began to feel irritated, she reminded herself that he had not in fact made any complaint about her actions, nor was he acting in an angry manner; and if his
feelings
were ones of disappointment or discouragement, well, certainly the poor man was entitled to whatever feelings he chose, so long as he did not attempt to impose them on her. No, she had no cause for complaint in his reaction; she simply did not like to see him unhappy.

With an impulse that she did not wish to inspect too closely, she spoke his name, and, when he turned to look at her, reached up and brushed her lips very quickly and lightly against his. She had never seen him look so startled, and she looked down with a small satisfied smile.

With a feeling of incredulous delight, he reined in the horses, and, as the carriage came to a stop, said, “Well, Miss Bennet, if your parents ever told you that you should never distract the driver, I am certainly glad you chose not to heed their instructions.”

She stole a quick glance at him, too embarrassed to look at him directly. “Your horses seem well trained enough to manage to stay on the road for a moment.”

“My horses are admirably trained. However, now that you have my full and complete attention, I cannot help but wonder if there is any chance of persuading you to consider a repetition of your action.”

“And you claim to be shy!” she teased.

“With sufficient motivation, I can overcome it, and I believe that I am more than sufficiently motivated at the moment.”

She still could hardly look at him, but managed comply with his request, despite her burning cheeks. It was so swift that she felt a response more to her daring than to the brief contact.

Darcy was managing the near-impossible by appearing calm and pleased despite feeling far from calm. Again he had been more successful when he allowed Elizabeth to set the pace and did not demand more than she felt ready to give, and he was determined to give her no reason to regret her action. He was resolved not to make the mistake of asking too much again, and made no effort to move beyond the brief, feather-light contact she had initiated, despite his strong impulse to capture her lips with his own and to drink his fill of her. He saw how embarrassed she was, and thought it best to keep his response minimal, but could not stop himself from leaning down and stealing one more kiss from her, of no more duration or depth than the ones she had freely given him. With an effort, he steeled himself, picked up the reins, and set off again, only then allowing himself to glory in the fact that Elizabeth had kissed him of her own free will. God, but she was full of surprises! Just when he thought that there was no progress, too. He tightened his hand on hers, and was delighted to feel her return the pressure.

All too soon they were approaching Longbourn. Darcy stopped just out of sight of the house to take a moment to kiss her hand, and on impulse turned her hand over to place a kiss in her palm, and then one on the delicate skin inside her wrist. He heard her sharp intake of breath with the greatest of pleasure. She was looking at him again, with confusion but neither displeasure nor fear. “Thank you for today,” he said softly before bringing the carriage up to the door.

“Good day, Mr. Darcy,” she said with more equanimity than she felt.

“Good day, Miss Bennet,” he replied. He watched her until she went in the door, then drove off, full of elation.

* * *

That night, as Elizabeth sat at her vanity brushing her hair, she thought back on the events of the day with some agitation. She could no longer say with any honesty that she had no feelings for Darcy. If nothing else, he affected her powerfully on the physical level, more, in fact, than she had thought possible. That it troubled her when he was in distress, and that she wished to protect him, was indubitable; she felt a real interest in his welfare, but still doubted the wisdom of allowing that welfare to depend on herself.