The moments between waking and finding herself driving to work had been motions with very little memory that morning. What really kick started Lizzy's thoughts that particular day was a song by the Police, playing on the radio. As the droning base and intro melody started, she smiled, her thoughts on leather bindings, wood grain, and the fineness bestowed by certain lessons in college days….
An exceedingly surly Elizabeth had been fully provoked. She could not believe this Literature Professor had called her out, yet again. It could not be helped, her acerbic wit, and what was she to do when he was so vexing? Why, oh why had she insisted upon arguing with the department's most respected Faculty? Those weren't even her true opinions on the subject of Canterbury Tales! She winced remembering that Chaucer had been an area of specialty for a certain protégé in whose office she was about to enter. Now she was stuck after class with this dashing if uptight Professor, no doubt for a stern dressing down about the manner in which she comports herself in his classroom.
Since you prove yourself to be so adept at the finer points of Chaucer's story, I thought it fitting that you assist me in reviewing my next powerpoint. Dr. De Bourgh had told me you proved quite helpful with her research, and she recommended your…ah… talents… and I was in…terested to find out myself what you could…d-do.
Lizzy was so incredulous that insufferable Dr. Darcy had deigned to pay her any compliment that she hardly noticed his stuttering or the physicality of his presence. The clever English student was much more intent upon completing whatever mythical tasks required to leave- be it battling giant spiders, unconquerable demons, gorgons…Snapping to attention, Lizzy suddenly realized that Darcy had placed his laptop in front of her and was sitting very close to her, no doubt to watch over her shoulder as she reviewed his work. She couldn't help but notice the warmth and luminescence of his scent, reminding her of Indian temples. Attempting to ignore his intent gaze and his presence, arms half circling the laptop and their cozy seat, she concentrated on his presentation.
Lizzy found his insights arresting and told him as much as she perused his work. A queer look came over his face and he seemed tremulous, clearing his throat and made as if to cough. Strangely, he acted as if she were the ill one, the contagious one, as he all but fled the room, half standing in the doorway, his arm forming another threshold under the wooden frame.
Are you all right, Dr. Darcy? Shall I get you some water?
He was doubled over and wordlessly nodded his head as he seemed to gasp for breath. She ducked under him retrieving a bottle from the vending machine. When she presented him with it, he gulped the bottle's contents. I think that will be all, he rasped, finally, his voice harsher than he meant it.
I need to get my bookbag, then, she looked up at him impertinently, unable to hold back any longer. It was insufferable, the manner in which he picked her brain and then abruptly dismissed her without so much as a thank you.
He stood there, still leaning in the doorway, as if he didn't comprehend her. After more than a few seconds of the stare down, Darcy again seemed to jump out of a reverie and started down the hall as if to disregard her presence completely. Well then, I suppose we're done. Lizzy said loudly, knowing it was only to herself that she now spoke.
She had intended to meet Jane and Charlotte at a coffeeshop on the other side of campus to grab a ride home. At this rate she was not going to make it and texted them about the change. Lizzy wasn't keen on taking the bus, especially on such a dreary day, the last before fall break. Ever determined to make the most of the last gathering days, splashing her way to the stop, Lizzy began anticipating what follies she might observe on the bus ride home. Lizzy was chilled, had been, but the exhilarating exercise rendered her unaware of the soddenness of her cotton skirt, which was now about 6 inches in damp, clinging to her form.
Someone else noticed the youthful bloom creating a picturesque tableau. She was shining brightly, there on the wet corner and before he realized it, his Mercedes was on the side of the road and he had lowered his window, calling to her to the dry warmth inside his car.
For a second time, or maybe a third, Lizzy was surprised at Dr. Darcy's abrupt moments of kindness. Seeing nothing wrong with accepting a ride from the man who had caused her to miss her original ride, Lizzy stepped in.
A song by the Police was playing and Lizzy unconsciously mouthed "Young teacher, the subject of schoolgirl fantasy…." It was all Darcy could do to concentrate on the road as he drove, half watching her, remembering what future plans Dr. De Bourgh had spoken of, his imagination running wild with possibilities. When the song finished he turned the radio off, realizing he had no idea where he was and asking her if she could direct him.
Lizzy was embarrassed to realize she'd not said anything sooner. They were in the middle of Lambton Estate, which was the opposite direction from where they needed to go. Um, you don't have to give me a ride all the way to Meryton- its nearly 50 minutes from here. Why don't you just take me to the terminal?
I insist. I badly want to be of service you after you agreed to be of service to me.
Ummkaaay? Lizzy replied, questioningly allowing his assistance, thinking how oddly it was worded, and how his manner reminded her of someone like Rufus Sewell. Handsome in a scary way. Yes, she decided, that fit him very well, except Darcy was more symmetrical than Rufus, and his eyes were the color of truffles. Lizzy found herself regarding the English Professor with her newfound realizations. She turned away from him to watch the passing scenery of bare trees and golden leafy ground, interrupted by clusters of buildings.
He had put the music on again and Lizzy unconsciously nodded her head in time to the piano stylings of Elton John. Darcy glanced nervously at her, wondering at the odd musical juxtaposition like it was a cruel trick of the deejay. Her hand was rested on the seat so near his, that he twitched from desire to grasp it. He couldn't make the move but neither could he pull away. And so, he tried to relax a little, feeling her proximity and taking in everything he could safely do while driving.
Lizzy had taken little notice of his arm initially, but its insistent heat brought awareness and she turned, regarding it grasping the armrest as if it had a mind of its own. Something about it caused a pang, caused her to reach out and take his hand, examine it, ask, Is there something wrong with your…?
Its fine! Before she could get the words out he interrupted, jerking away from her, visibly startled. He was breathing heavily and his hands both now gripped the steering wheel, I need to pull over for a moment. He found a safe place to pull over, a rest stop overlooking a charming valley beginning to twinkle in the dusk. Darcy looked around the car for his bag and noticed it was (in)conveniently positioned behind Lizzy's seat. Unfastening his seatbelt and without saying anything, Lizzy found that Darcy was turned in his seat and his head was very near hers. Her lips, without consulting her mind sought Darcy's own lips and….
OW! Both said simultaneously as their heads bonked together.
Sorry! I was just getting my bag, Darcy apologized as he pulled a bookbag from behind Lizzy's seat.
She had become quite aware of him now, the Nag Champa aroma on his leather jacket and the moistness of his curls as he brushed past her arm. It was her turn to involuntarily grasp the armrest. Blushing, Lizzy covered up her own actions, chastising herself, stubbornly pressing him for an explanation. Clearly you need help, why did you ask to drive me home when you are so affected? Have you been drinking?
That is not what intoxicates me. His hand was shaking a little as it held the now empty water bottle.
She was about to pontificate on what else could possibly intoxicate the Professor when Rufus Wainwright's cascading melody and lyrics…Looking at the Art Teacher, I was just a girl then, He was not much older than I was…..
Something in the composition of moments of the day and certain other moments that aligned just then in Elizabeth's awareness and she was struck by the characterization of her regard. She saw in his expression, felt in his eyes, something akin to her regard. It blazed through her urging her to again seek his lips, properly this time. She could feel his body tense, bracing himself for rejection, could almost hear his thinking what the hell am I doing?. She knew his fear, spoke breathy reassurances upon his lips, convincing this English teacher that he was indeed correct. With every kiss, long held back desire coalesced, finally crashing wantonly upon his nubile pupil. He took her in hand and taught her all he knew on the topics of love and the erotic. She learned quickly and ably.
They spent the long weekend studying romances. Neither had any other reality than what was contained within the other's looks, caresses, and kisses. Lizzy ordered take out and made excuses to Jane and Charlotte for her lack of emergence from her suite of rooms. With the Bingley siblings to otherwise occupy them, neither sister nor friend was the wiser.
Darcy had no need for other clothing but as Monday afternoon crept into darkness, he had to consider the morrow, had to broach the subject entrenched in his mind with Catherine's words. He had offended her in every possible manner, presuming a great deal about Lizzy's status as a student, that she would proposition him was highly offensive and she had summarily kicked him out.
It took Catherine's dressing down and Dr Fitzwilliam's insights to enervate Darcy's resolve. Lizzy's sudden leave could not have come at a less opportune time, or so everyone said. Dr. De Bourgh was greatly vexed.
….. Elizabeth, so nice to see you after all this time. Why don't we catch up while taking a stroll in that prettyish park near Longbourn Hall?
It was not Lizzy's fault that, at 23, people still thought the protégé English Doctoral Student was an undergrad. While her maturity and cleverness were obvious to everyone, her youthful beauty caught the notice of student and professor alike. She had been offended that Dr. Darcy was so self absorbed he'd not bothered to notice that she was not a mere student but a visiting Doctoral Candidate, there to complete her teaching hours and thesis. It offended Lizzy that he thought her a student and that he lacked the resolve to say no to her. In fact, the more she'd thought about it, the more she imagined Darcy had been putting himself in her way for sometime before that weekend.
Bourgh's excessive attention to such goings on in her department thus propelled her to act for the good of a valued faculty and a promising Doctoral student. If anyone criticized her subsequent lack of attention at the goings on in certain classrooms or offices of her department, they would receive the severest look so as to silence them on the subject forever.
…. Therefore, it was no great surprise that, upon Lizzy's arrival to work that day, she found her immense desk covered in dozens of vases filled with a variety of irises, roses, narcissi, columbine and marigolds. She realized the sequence of songs playing on her way to work was the same as that fateful day.
Happy Anniversary, Darling
Dr. Darcy was greeted most enthusiastically by a particular colleague of the same surname. It was a very good thing she had gotten into her office hours before classes started. That day, she lectured most vigorously on poetry as the food of love.
