Apologies for not posting before the weekend, personal matters took precedence. To make it up to you (if you're reading on desktop), the story's new profile picture is a photo from the detour I took yesterday on my drive home; Chatsworth House.
Chapter Twenty
On the very morning when Mr Collins's letter was being placed upon Mr Bennet's desk, Elizabeth was walking towards what had become a sort of meeting spot and discovered the handsome figure of Mr Darcy waiting for her by himself.
Darcy had found that his time spent with Elizabeth during their stay in Kent was the most he had enjoyed any visit to the area since he was a boy. They walked together regularly, sometimes alone and at other times with Richard, and due to his determination to spend as much time in her company as possible, he had also been rather neglectful of his duties to Rosings Park. Darcy was prepared to neglect them a little longer though when he saw the vision he had been dreaming about with increasing frequency walking towards him through the dappled light of the trees.
The pair fell easily into the routine they had carved out over the previous days. Darcy offered his arm and Elizabeth accepted with alacrity before he led them through the woodland and in a new direction she had yet to explore. That day they followed the route of a shallow stream using a narrow path that forced them close together at regular intervals.
Over their numerous interactions with one another, Darcy and Elizabeth had engaged in plenty of conversations. They had learned each other's favourites in many areas, they had debated their differences of opinion and congratulated the other on their good taste when their preferences aligned. The couple had not exhausted the possible topics of conversation between them by any means, but a natural consequence of their often being in company together was that that had developed a familiarity which included enjoying each other's company without the need to fill each silence with chatter.
Eventually they entered a clearing which had been carved out along the bank of the stream, sat neatly in the centre of it was an ornately sculpted wooden bench. Darcy guided them in its direction and the two of them sat together with little which could be described as appropriate space between them.
"Have you heard from your sister since your arrival in Kent?" Darcy asked, mostly to satisfy his own curiosity as neither he nor Richard had heard from Walker yet and they were both hopeful for good news soon.
"I have not received any letters so far, though I wrote to both Jane and Mary upon my arrival it is still perhaps too soon to expect a reply from either of them just yet."
"Did you not write to your other sisters, or your father?"
"No, my youngest sisters have not the patience for letter writing so it would garner no response if I did attempt such, I did however include a line for each of them in my note to Mary. As for my father, well I am not convinced he would much care to read of my adventures at present, so I do not burden him with any correspondence."
"I imagine it is a relief to you to be away from Longbourn." Darcy said with sympathy, he detested how overlooked and mistreated his Elizabeth was by the people who were meant to care most for her, "You shall be keen to distance yourself from such relations when the opportunity arises, will you not?"
Elizabeth was quite taken aback by Mr Darcy's comment and she did not think she could have understood him correctly, so she asked, "By what do you mean 'such relations'?"
Darcy stammered slightly for a response when he saw the glint in her eye, surely she saw her family for what they were? His assessment of them could not possibly come as a surprise to her? Darcy tried to explain that it would only be natural, expected even, for her to separate herself from such inferior connections when she made her entrance into the upper circles of society as the Walker and Fitzwilliam families anticipated she would.
The scheming vulgarity of her step-mother and the negligent attitude of her father would not be recommendations for her lovely character. Moreover, with such role models, her younger sisters could not be expected to do her credit either.
Elizabeth was stunned. So stunned in fact that she found it impossible to sit still. The anger he had riled in her provided restless energy which cried out to be used. She was pacing before the still seated Mr Darcy when she said, "I find I am at a loss with what to say in response to you, sir. What reply would you expect in such circumstances as these?"
That retort was all Darcy needed to hear to know he had badly erred, that he had offended his dearest Elizabeth. Before he could try to correct his mistake, Elizabeth began walking back in the direction they had come from.
When she heard his footsteps behind her, she whirled around to face him, "It matters not to me who the mother of my sisters is, Mr Darcy." Her sharp tone coming as a surprise to both of them. "They are my sister, my blood, and I shall forsake them for no one. If my value to society is diminished by such connections, it is not a society I wish to have a part in."
Elizabeth turned and continued her march back towards the parsonage without allowing Mr Darcy a chance to respond, her heavy breathing drowned out his pleas for her to wait or to permit him to apologise. As maddening as he found her in that moment, Darcy could not help the admiration which flooded him for her strength and resolve. Beauty radiated from her with every movement she made.
Just before they broke through the tree cover and onto the footpath which would put them in view of the Collins's home, Elizabeth stopped and turned once more to face Mr Darcy. "To speak of abandoning my family for the opinions of people I do not even know, well it makes no sense to me, sir. If it is something you could do, then quite surprises me to learn that you are a heartless man."
Darcy could feel his throat tightening and his tongue swelling, his brain was becoming foggy as words were once more failing him. Rather than fight the frustration that always seemed to build during one of their arguments, Darcy decided to embrace it. He kept his eyes fixed on the enchantress across from him and raised one hand to untie her bonnet ribbon. In no time at all the headwear was discarded and Darcy was caressing Elizabeth's cheekbone with his thumb.
When he noticed her shy blush, he hesitated but she did not pull away. Darcy moved his face towards Elizabeth's with caution, they were in the middle of an argument after all, so it may not have been the wisest time to instigate their first kiss. Darcy, however, could not bring himself to pull away, he had been imagining such an event for months and the opportunity was now before him.
Elizabeth stood perfectly still, barely breathing as Mr Darcy lightly traced along her eyebrow and around to the apple of her cheek. She knew that if he were to let go of her in that moment she would swiftly become a puddle on the floor; her bones were liquid and her stomach was twisted out of shape from the anticipation she was feeling.
Elizabeth's eyes were fixed on Mr Darcy's lips as the distance between them lessened. To both of them the seconds leading up to their lips connecting felt as though they were waiting a lifetime, but equally, neither could remember what had transpired in that time for the intimate sensation that existed between them was all that occupied their minds once they had begun. They could have stayed that way for a second, or a minute, or an hour. Elizabeth had lost all concept of time when his lips touched hers.
Darcy led Elizabeth through her first kiss with tenderness, doing his best to project an air of self-assurance, despite his feeling an almost comical combination of delight and nervousness himself. It was a simple kiss, as kisses went, but it contained all of the feelings they had both been developing and it was with reluctance that Darcy pulled back a fraction and watched the wind play with a few loose strands of Elizabeth's hair. Her eyes remained closed, as if committing the moment to memory, and her observer let loose a half smile at the picture in front of him.
An array of words reverberated through Darcy's mind and he was about to speak when Elizabeth did so first. With a slight crease between her brows she asked, "If I were not related to members of the first circles, would you have wished to know me?"
Darcy was dumbfounded. After the moment they had just shared her mind was still on their argument, where as his was before an altar. He must have taken too long to respond because before he knew what was happening, Elizabeth had snatched up her bonnet, left the privacy of the trees and was halfway to the parsonage. Darcy knew he could not openly chase after her without raising eyebrows and causing more damage than it appeared he already had. Frustrated with himself, he let her go but was comforted to remember that she was due to attend Rosings Park later that evening for a few games of cards. He would see her then and try to speak privately to her if he could.
Elizabeth, though, did not go with the Collins's to Rosings at the appointed time. Had she known what the following day would bring she may very well have chosen differently, but as she did not, Elizabeth claimed an ill head and hid in her chamber until her friend and cousin had departed.
Darcy was disappointed when Elizabeth failed to enter the drawing room with the rest of the parsonage residents. He almost quit the room, nay the house, himself to check on her when he heard she had taken ill, before it occurred to him that his sister sometimes also complained of a headache when she wished to be alone. Darcy comforted himself with the remembrance that they still had several weeks to spend together in Kent and their earlier argument would have plenty of time to be resolved.
That opportunity, however, would not come. Early the next morning, so early in fact that the knock at the door woke the occupants of the house, an express was delivered to Hunsford parsonage. The contents of the missive were as follows;
Dear Sir,
You are mistaken at the expectation of shared joy upon discovering Colonel Fitzwilliam to be present in Kent.
Please inform my daughter that a carriage shall arrive at your humble home for her by nine o'clock and convey her to London to collect her sister without delay. I expect them returned to my home by sundown on the day of their departure.
Regards,
T. Bennet.
Elizabeth did not attempt to hide the tears which flowed as she packed her trunks and watched them being secured to the carriage which her father had hastily arranged. Her father, in that same haste, had forgotten the need for Elizabeth to travel with a chaperone and consequently one of the Collins's servants was enlisted to see her properly to London.
During the five-hour trip to her Aunt and Uncle's home, Elizabeth could not help but compare her feelings on the return journey to what they had been when she had travelled into the county a week previous. She had come to realise that she did not simply admire the man who had entertained her so thoroughly then, she loved him. Loved him despite their argument and his flawed believe in the importance of a person's connections. As the distance between them grew so did her fears, for she knew not when she would see Fitzwilliam Darcy again, or if he would still think fondly of her when that time came.
Elizabeth, admittedly, was in a very melancholy mood, for had she been thinking rationally she would have known that the gentleman, who had held onto a flicker of admiration for her since the previous year, would not be as fickle as to forget her after they had shared such an intimacy as had occurred the day before.
By virtue of London being closer to Longbourn than Hunsford was, an express arrived at Gracechurch Street late the night before the one which was received in Kent. It not only provided warning of Lizzie's new arrival date, but it also offered up a dilemma to Jane which she felt ill-equipped to handle.
As she had reached her majority, her father no longer held any legal control over her. If Jane chose not to follow the instructions contained within his rude and petulant note to Mr Gardiner, she did not have to. However, her dear sister Elizabeth had no such power in the unfolding events. Jane could not comprehend the idea of letting Elizabeth return to Longbourn to face their father alone. She had not liked the idea of Lizzie being there by herself for the next year before the truth had been found out, to imagine her being isolated in such trying circumstances had Jane's heart threatening to burst from her chest in protest.
Given the lateness of the hour when the message was delivered, it was agreed between the Gardiners that nothing could be done until the morning. Jane reluctantly accepted their decree, but spent the hours until sunrise with her eyes open, fixed squarely on the ceiling and trying to think of a plan. When a maid entered to help her prepare for the day ahead, she was no closer to a solution - but at least she would have Elizabeth later that day and she was always the more creative one when it came to dealing with their father.
When Darcy called at the parsonage in the early afternoon, he was devastated to learn of Elizabeth's summons home. It distressed him farther when he considered what it could mean for her immediate future. He had no hope of catching her before her arrival in Town, but there was a chance that he could reach her before she departed Gracechurch Street.
With a brief explanation to Richard, and as brief an apology to his Aunt Catherine as she would allow him to give, Darcy departed on horseback. He did not have the patience to wait for his carriage to be readied or for trunks to be packed, those things would only slow him as he pushed hard to reach Gracechurch Street in time.