Mr. Darcy My Saviour
Last time:Will he ever touch her again?
Chapter 19
Tuesday to Sunday seemed to drag following the argument between Elizabeth and Darcy. Both were in sombre moods due to Elizabeth's refusal to acknowledge Darcy. Darcy had not visited Elizabeth's chambers again and that caused Elizabeth to become angry and resentful; hence the no talking. Darcy was almost at the end of his tether. He had tried confronting Elizabeth but she just looked the other way and remained silent. Although, that wasn't true all the time. Sometimes she shouted at him after trying to change his mind. More often, than not, their arguments end with one of them walking out, fuming. To say that things had intensified too far would be an understatement. It had gotten to the point where servants were too afraid to be in the same room as the newlyweds.
It, of course, did not help that the work at Pemberley seemed to keep on mounting. Thankfully, Georgiana had arrived early Wednesday morning and offered to help her brother in any way she could. However, for Darcy, the honeymoon could not arrive too soon. He was hoping that the honeymoon would be the chance for him to reconnect with his new wife. Which, he knew, was going to take an awful lot of work. But he was going to try his hardest or else his soul be damned.
It was early evening, on the night before Elizabeth and Darcy departed and the tension in the air was so strong that you could cut it with a knife. Darcy knew he had to at least apologise to Elizabeth but he was just not sure how. The only way he knew how to reconcile was to give her what she wanted. However, Darcy was a stubborn man and he would stand by the decision that Elizabeth was not ready for such intimacies. He only hoped he could convince her that he was doing what was best for her. Not to hurt her but to protect her.
Elizabeth had confined herself to her room after the last argument they had, had; which had taken place two nights prior. Darcy was worried about his wife. However, he had it on good authority that Elizabeth was eating and looking after herself. Though this did little to comfort him. Elizabeth was one of those people who needed daily activities to pass the time otherwise she would go mad. That was the main reason that Darcy was concerned about her locking herself away.
Darcy knocked upon Elizabeth's chamber door and waited, in silence, for her voice to emanate from the inner room. When he heard it, Darcy's heart fluttered; it sounded so melancholy that it hurt Darcy to hear. Darcy steeled himself for an icy reception and then timidly entered the room. Elizabeth was lain outstretched, on her side, on top of the covers; staring blankly at the wall. For a long moment, Darcy pondered how long she had been there. She was in her nightgown which gave Darcy no indication. This put him on edge. He entered further into the room and closed the door.
Elizabeth's eyes flickered towards him and Darcy saw her shoulders tighten with tension. Her eyes were full of sadness and her breathing was accelerated. It broke Darcy's heart to see her in such a state. Elizabeth broke eye contact with her husband and returned her stare to the wall.
After a few minutes of silence, Elizabeth spoke, "What do you need, Mr. Darcy?" Darcy felt as though he had been slapped. Her tone along with her words cut deep into Darcy's chest and he almost broke. However, he had to be strong if he was to see this conversation through.
"I have come to apologise for my behaviour this past week." Darcy announced as he moved closer to the bed.
Elizabeth nodded, "Very well." She said.
"Very well?" Darcy asked in disbelief.
Elizabeth turned her eyes upon her husband and simply said, "Very well. You can apologise."
Darcy frowned as he watched his wife. She had a look of impatience upon her face and he knew that if he did not hurry; she would kick him out. "Elizabeth, I did not mean to upset you or offend you when I said I would not be with you intimately. I was merely trying to protect you. You are my wife and I could not bear for you to relapse back into the sombre stages you were in before our marriage." Darcy entreated. "I love you Elizabeth and it hurt to see you in that way. You must understand."
Elizabeth nodded, "I understand." She admitted. However, she went on to say, "however, you must also understand how offensive it is to be turned down when you offer yourself completely." She stated with malice. "I have never trusted another man the way I had trusted you. You have no idea what it is like to have been touched by a man you neither know nor care for." Elizabeth looked down at the bed below her as she began to cry. Darcy felt his whole world tilt.
"I have to live with the memory of that… every day for the rest of my life. The reason you had reminded me of that was because it had hurt. Just like every female's first time does. Or so I am told." Elizabeth revealed. "The only difference between me and another woman is that I have bad memories to contend with as well." Darcy knew she was right and it hurt to know that he had made her feel so unloved. "You were my chance to change that. Because I trusted you. I love you. And you just threw it all back in my face." Elizabeth's tears fell harder as she revealed her hurt and Darcy found that he had to sit down. Otherwise, the pressure of his grief would have consumed him.
Mask tightly in place, Darcy held onto Elizabeth's hands and squeezed tight. "I understand now. I do and I am so deeply sorry for the hurt I have caused you. I love you with all my heart and I would never willingly do something to hurt you." Darcy empathised.
"Truly?" was Elizabeth's timid reply.
"Truly," was Darcy's confident answer. Elizabeth moved over to Darcy's side and pressed her lips tightly against his. Her kiss was passionate and he found that his lips and tongue willingly responded to the tempo she had set. The kiss became more heated but Elizabeth pulled away and considered Darcy's eyes. Her eyes were full of life again and were sparkling with happiness. Darcy found that he could not resist a smile in return.
Elizabeth captured his lips again and then asked, "Does that mean you are willing to try again?" Darcy smiled.
"I am," He said. Elizabeth's smile was blinding and Darcy felt drawn to it like a moth to a flame. Elizabeth was about to re-capture his lips whilst she fingered his buttons on his waist coat. However, Darcy stopped her. "Just not now." He said, ashamed.
The life died in Elizabeth's eyes and she was back to the way she was before. "Then you obviously meant none of the words you promised." Elizabeth spat and then fell back to the bed, curled upon her side.
"I meant everything I said Elizabeth." Darcy argued but to no avail.
"Get out, Mr. Darcy." Elizabeth said in a monotone and Darcy knew he had messed up yet again.
Morning broke through the clouds before Darcy was ready. He did not want to face his wife because, at heart, he was a coward. The look she gave him yesterday eve was so full of hatred that Darcy could not bear seeing it again. Was this not the exact fate Darcy had tried to avoid in the first place? Yet, instead of avoiding it, he walked straight into its hidden trap; quite like a fly does with the Dionaea muscipula (better known as The Venus Fly Trap).
The Dionaea muscipula was discovered in 1769 by an explorer named John Ellis. The history and make up of this revolutionary plant never ceased to amaze Darcy. The way that the plant lures its victims by creating a sweet nectar and then snaps its lid shut before their chosen prey has any idea what is going on. That was what made Darcy compare his situation with Elizabeth to the fly and the plant. She lured him in with sweet promises and words of love then when he least expected it… she pounced. That, of course, was in referral to her behaviour after their wedding night. It made him quite sad. Things had to change. Beginning with their behaviour. Darcy knew he was in for a lot of work. He sighed and exited his study.
He had spent the evening and morning sitting in the study thinking. What on earth could he do to get Elizabeth to talk to him again? A thought was niggling at the back of Darcy's mind; the only way he would mollify his wife was if he slept with her. Darcy did not completely understand his aversion to that course of action just that the thought of touching his wife and getting the same reaction seemed to fill Darcy with dread. Darcy realised that he was more protecting himself rather than Elizabeth but he could not help it. Do not get him wrong, he loved his wife with all his heart but he was just not sure he could take the pain he had felt when she pushed him away and called him 'Heralds'. Darcy mentally spat at the name. As if he was anything like that monster.
Darcy was not a fool. He understood that Elizabeth had not meant to yell that out but none the less she had. Thus, Darcy could not help but feel like a monster. Darcy touched his hands over his eyes and began to weep. The stress was too much and his heart could not take the pain he felt. Men would think him weak in that second; but they would never understand the hurt that one feels when they are pushed away and then called a monster. Or, of course, by a name which referred to someone who was a monster; Darcy amended.
Darcy had to admit that the scenario with Elizabeth stirred some painful memories for him. His mother had suffered with a brain disease which caused her to forget moments in her life and she had difficulties with thinking as well as having problems with many other aspects of her daily life. This horrible affliction was brought forth when my mother suffered an apoplexy. The time had been awful for Darcy as well as his family. He had the scene of her collapsing in front of the guests at one of Pemberley's balls, replaying in his mind. One minute she was conversing and having fun, the next she lost co-ordination of the left side of her body and then collapsed into his father's arms. Darcy had not understood why his mother collapsed for he was just a young lad. However, he was told (after her death) what had befallen her and that she was not herself the weeks leading to her death. The news had destroyed Darcy.
Darcy was pacing outside his mother's door for the second time that evening. It had been three weeks since his mother had collapsed and Darcy was going out of his mind with thoughts as to what had happened. Mr. Darcy had told his children that they were not to visit their mother under any circumstances. His father did not elaborate as to why he would say such a thing and that had upset Darcy. He was almost a man. He should be able to make his own decisions.
Thus, with these thoughts, Darcy entered his mother's bedroom. The sight before him left him in a cold sweat. He had never seen his mother look so vulnerable. Her skin was as white as a cotton sheet and was covered in a glittery film. Her eyes looked sunken and her lips were taught with pain. Darcy felt his eyes fill with tears as he slowly approached the ghostly apparition. His mother's eyes fluttered and Darcy stopped. She turned dark eyes upon him and her face filled with fear.
"Who are you?" she cried.
"It is I, mother. Your son." He replied, confused at the lack of recognition.
"I have no son! My son is dead. Has been since he was a boy. He died when he was a babe. Oh, my little Fitzwilliam. Such a strong boy. Your nothing like him. Weak and submissive beast that you are." The woman cried. This was not his mother. She laughed. "You are a pathetic excuse for a man. Look at you, you could not possibly be my son." Darcy felt his heart break into millions and millions of pieces. His mother did not recognise him. Not only that; she thought he was dead.
"It is me, mother. I am not dead." Darcy cried and sprung himself on her bed; draping himself over her small frame. She began to scream.
"Get off! You beast! GET OFF!" She swung at his body and repeatedly hit him until he was pushed upon the floor. He could feel the bruises beginning to form. "YOU ARE A MONSTER! Return to hell where you belong." She cried.
"I love you mother. No matter what," Darcy cried and began to leave. His father entered, looking flustered, with the doctor close behind him. Darcy looked at his mother.
"I do not love you. I do not even know who you are. Get out!" She screamed.
Darcy looked at his father with pain and fear in his eyes as the doctor began to sedate his mother. His father looked at him with pity and moved forward to embrace his son. The boy pushed out of the room and ran as fast as he could to the furthest place he could.
It was not until two days later that Darcy finally returned. His father was waiting for him upon his arrival. The man took his wayward son in his arms and held onto him. He kissed Darcy's head. He pulled away and lowered himself to his right knee.
He looked Darcy in the eyes and said, "I am so sorry you had to see that. I will explain everything when you are old enough. But just know that she never meant any of those words."
Darcy nodded and looked at the ground.
"She is asking for you. She has realised what she did and wants to make it up to you." Darcy shook his head adamantly. "Will, you have to see her." His father urged.
"I cannot father. I just cannot face it again." Darcy said, toneless. "Anyway, I'm dead, aren't I? I do not think she will miss me that much." Darcy pulled away from his father and then ran to his room and locked himself away.
Four days later… she died.
Since that moment, Darcy had cut himself off from every woman that had come his way. If his own mother thought him a monster, then what would others think of him. He never allowed himself to get close to anyone; except Bingley and Georgiana. And, of course, Elizabeth. However, his solitary state from before had left him harsh and prejudice about anyone of the other sex and gradually he had begun to view them as the monsters. Loneliness can be a harmful thing.
He had never revealed what had happened to anyone other than Georgiana. Bingley had his suspicions but never voiced them. Being with Elizabeth opened his eyes to the true beauty in humanity. She was his saving grace. If only he could make her see how much she had changed for him. She had given his life a whole new meaning.
He had to show her what she meant to him. And he had just the thing.
Elizabeth sat staring at the wall. She had never felt so alone. She had to admit that she was still quite angry at Darcy for being such a prude but then, she seemed to understand his hesitance. If anyone was to be blamed it would be Elizabeth. She knew that; however, she could not help how she felt. He was the man of her dreams and yet he doubts it. It was an accident when she referred to him with Heralds' name. She had been lost in the memories but that was no need to punish her. He should have known that she did not mean anything by what she said. She understands that it was probably the worst thing she could have called him but still. That didn't mean he had to shut off from her. She knew it would not happen again; he had to trust in her. The fact that he was not trusting her revealed how much of an un-equal match they really were.
Elizabeth sat and watched the clock hands tick by. Her new maid came in every hour and it wasn't until three o'clock in the afternoon that the maid reminded Elizabeth of her prior engagement.
"You will inform my husband that I will abstain from travelling until he apologises properly." Elizabeth sat back on her bed and crossed her arms petulantly.
The maid's lips quirked in amusement. "Very well milady." The maid curtsied and then left.
Elizabeth lay onto her back and looked at the ceiling. Her thoughts were controlled by one thing: how did she come to sound so much like Lydia.
"Elizabeth, may I come in?" Darcy inquired through the door. He had just returned from the vaults underneath Pemberley to be told that Elizabeth had still not left her room. In fact, he had been told that Elizabeth refused to travel until he apologised properly. Hence, the reason he was pounding on her door. He was going to save her present until they got to Italy but he guessed that it was better early.
The door swung open to reveal an expectant Elizabeth. "Can I help you, Mr. Darcy?" She asked in a reserved tone.
The situation may be more difficult than Darcy had thought. "May I come in?" Darcy inquired.
"You are the husband. Shouldn't you just demand entrance?" Elizabeth moved away from the door and proceeded to sit in the window seat.
"I would never demand anything of you." Darcy said.
"Well maybe you should," Elizabeth said spitefully. Darcy sighed and approached his wife; closing the door behind him.
"I have a gift for you." Darcy placed the box in his palm and waited for Elizabeth to take it from his outstretched hand. Elizabeth turned and stared at the tiny box sitting snuggly in Darcy's hand.
She turned a heated glare towards him, "Are you trying to buy me now? Shame on you, Mr. Darcy." Elizabeth spat. Darcy flinched slightly at her words but did not drop his hand.
"Just take the gift, Elizabeth." He ordered. With one last glare, Elizabeth took the box and opened it.
She sat and silently stared. Darcy watched her face as many emotions swept their way across it. First anger, then confusion, then despair and so on. The final emotion was one of resignation.
"What is it for?" Elizabeth inquired.
"It's a promise. From me to you." Darcy explained.
"Is a promise ring not for purity before marriage?" Elizabeth asked.
"It is but that is not what this ring represents. This ring is a promise to you that… on our honeymoon, we will try again. I am promising myself to you." Darcy explained further.
Elizabeth stared at the sapphire ring in her hand and seemed to reach a decision. She looked at her husband with tears in her eyes and acceptance upon her features.
"Then I accept your promise and your apology," Elizabeth said.
She flung herself in Darcy's arms and latched her lips upon his. Her lips were warm and soft; leaving a fire aching in his heart. Oh, how he wanted to carry her to the bed and have his way with her there and then. However, as much as he wanted that with all his being, they had to get to London. Their boat leaves tomorrow morning.
"Will you, Mrs. Elizabeth Darcy," Started Darcy after he pulled away from her lips. "Come with me on our honeymoon?" Elizabeth hugged Darcy one last time and pulled away.
"I will, Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy." Elizabeth smiled and allowed her husband to pull her from the room.
They arrived at the carriage that was at the base of the entrance stairs. Just as Elizabeth was about to board, Darcy pulled her to his chest and kissed her one last time. When they drew apart, Darcy leant his forehead against hers and whispered, "I love you, wife."
Elizabeth's smile lit up like the sun and she rubbed her nose against his, "And I love you, husband."
Darcy grinned at his wife and helped her into the carriage and followed suit. The carriage jolted to life as it slowly made its way to London's Docks.