Elizabeth awoke to four very curious pairs of eyes staring at her. Not willing to feel or think for the moment, she contemplated the various gazes. The two to the left of the bed were dark bright eyes fringed in thick lashes, their gazes ranged from bored to worried. The gazer who stood next to those two was… shorter and lighter. The little dark haired boy who peeked over the edge of her bed had the bluest eyes she had ever seen, and they were filled with wonderment. The last gaze that fell on her was the most uncomfortable and all encompassing she had ever been exposed to.
Darcy's deep eyes kept hers, and as always, she was able to read the depths of his soul there. He was confused, and hurt… and determined. She found it hard to remember why she had been so mad at him. Finding her voice, she spoke, but… not so intelligently.
"I did not faint," she announced. Both girls at the end of her bed burst into mirthful laughter and their small brother's face lit in a playful smile. The smile of the tall man however, was more serious, and more solemn.
"I would never accuse you of so heinous an act my lady, but I'm afraid we have witnesses," he swept his hand toward the three beside him who wore the looks of innocent angels. The eldest daughter, Elaina, spoke up.
"He," she said referring to Darcy, "would have us leave you and he unattended in your room. But I would not hear of it! I don't care if he is master of this house! It would not be proper!"
"Oh there you go again," muttered her sister. "Always after what is proper. I say let them alone! It's romantic!"
"Well, if you're so set on letting them alone, then why'd you follow us in here?!" Elaine beamed, predicting her rightful victory to that last verbal battle.
Darcy interrupted the girls' heated arguing "I believe it is time for you to leave. I need to speak privately with Miss. Bennett."
"Oh, but Mr. Darcy," spoke Elizabeth, "it would not be at all a proper example to set for the girls."
"I don't care." Said he to an astonished room, "I will be obeyed. Now," he fixed a determined gaze on Mr. Jones' children. "Out."
While Rene rolled her eyes and took her younger brother's hand, Elaina glared fiercely. A glare that, to be truthful, even took Mr. Darcy aback. When he was alone with his Elizabeth, he pulled a chair to the side of her bed and sat down, stretching out and crossing his long, muscular, well-shaped legs.
Elizabeth chided herself for noticing such things, but could not help but glance appreciatively anyway. Neither knew what to say, how to begin.
"What are you doing here Mr. Darcy?" asked Elizabeth peevishly.
"Why… because I live here of course."
Silence once again descended upon the room until she chose to speak. "This must be a coincidence," she said stubbornly and stupidly.
Darcy laughed. "Yes, just as my kidnapping you was an accident! Your being here madam, is as calculated as was my kidnapping you."
"So… you just happened to have a friend here in need of a governess for his children? Or are they actors and peasants hired to play a part?" There was anger in her eyes.
"No, no, they are real. I certainly could not dream up children such as those, or give them to a man such as their father! It really is unexplainable. I never even knew Roger had children until the other day! It was fate that I ran into him the night we arrived in Scotland. If we hadn't I'd of had to do something illegal after you walked out on me yesterday. An action I feel compelled to tell you that you will explain to me before I leave this room!" There was a calm strength to Darcy's words. He meant everyone of them.
Elizabeth was beginning to feel a bit confused. Perhaps she had acted hastily. She had heard him say he would never marry her, but he had gone to such alengths to bring her back to him. And just as she was about to attribute his desire for her to a purely lustful emotion, his intentions to her as unworthy and ignoble, her eyes met his. She would have to remember from now on that his eyes did strange things to her. She saw strange things in them. What she saw in them was… love. Pure, simple love. He would never sully her good name, her nobility by taking her as a mistress, by not honoring her with marriage.
But she had heard him. Heard his words spoken so sternly and mockingly.
But she also hated to give in. To lose. If she spoke to him now, he won. She had never felt so much confusion in her life.
"Elizabeth, speak. Please." She glared, until she heard the pleading note of his please. He was exasperated y her, and with her. He loved her, and she was pushing his love away. It irked him beyond belief!
She sighed. "Is Mr. Jones the man you were talking to the night we arrived here? In that back room?"
Now it was Darcy's turn to be confused. "Yes, but how did you know I talked to him that night?"
"I could not sleep. So I went to find you. I heard you talking to a man."
"Why did you not come in? I would have liked to introduce the woman I had thought was to be my wife."
Elizabeth was startled from the bed. She flew up and towered over the sitting Darcy.' "That word! Wife! Wife implies marriage Mr. Darcy!"
"Of course it does! What else would it mean Elizabeth?" His voice rose to join hers now, making them more easily heard for the three sets of ears we know must have been pasted to the door.
"You are so indecisive sir! Is it your habit to flip flop on all issues?"
"I do not understand dear lady." Darcy's tone was cold. "Please explain so I may defend myself."
"Gladly! When I approached the door that night, I heard Mr. Jones tell you that he had seen me in town, and of his guess that we were to be married. You, sir, denied ever thinking about the possibility of marrying me." Elizabeth glared fiercly at him before turning her back to him to stare out the window.
Silence once again descended. But only shortly, for quite quickly, Darcy's jovial laughter tore through the air. He jumped from his chair and placed his arms around Elizabeth's waist, pulling her back against his chest. She was so shocked by this that she did not, indeed could not, react as Darcy planted soft kisses atop her hair.
Elizabeth began to feel that she had somehow made a mistake; that she had acted foolishly. Turning around in his arms, she placed her hands on his chest to push herself away from him. And though she achieved the desired effect of distance, she found that his hands still rested possessively and naturally on her hips. He smiled that devastating smile down at her.
She frowned. She did not like being laughed at. "Mr. Darcy, I do not like being laughed at. Please, hare with me the joke."
Darcy wished to kiss the frown from her face, but decided that kisses might be more readily appreciated if the way was cleared by words first.
"Elizabeth, the lady in question, the one you overheard us speaking of was not you."
Confusion, she guessed, was from now on to be a constant companion. In her thoughts.
"Then who were you talking of?"
"Miss. Bingley," he said with a laugh. And after a second, Elizabeth laughed with him, placing her head on his chest. Darcy would not speak, afraid to dislodge her head from its natural place. But she lifted it herself after a while and sat, dejectedly, on the bed.
"You love me," she said with a frown, realization finally dawning on her.
"Of course I do," he said, sitting beside her.
She looked at him, "but I'm such a fool. How could I have misinterpreted your words? I had so much evidence to the contrary. You are too good a man to love a fool."
Now it was Darcy's turn to frown. "Love makes men and women fools. Elizabeth, I did not laugh earlier because I thought you foolish. My laugher was for joy. To me, the fact that you were so upset by what you thought you heard just proved to me that you cared." He thought for a moment. "And besides… I am not a good man. I kidnapped you. I brought you here to my house with the plan of… well, never mind what my plan was. It wasn't good. Well, for me it was, and I supposed for you too…"
Elizabeth giggled at this outward contemplation of his thoughts. The sound brought him out of his reverie with a blush.
"But I am not a good man," he added solemnly. "I am a pirate."
Elizabeth's large warm smile moved him to pull her closer.
"But you are. You did not kidnap me, you saved me." And Darcy knew these words to be true. Truly! Mr. Collins as his Elizabeth's husband! The idea was absurd and insupportable. "And you brought me here for an answer," continued Elizabeth. "An answer as to why I ran away yesterday."
"Yes… Yes, that's why I brought you here…" They both knew it wasn't. They both smiled and Darcy drew her into a kiss.
"Elizabeth, I am going to ask you a question. And if I don't get the answer I want, well, I have a ship ready. I'm afraid I'll have to roll you up in those blankets, toss you over my shoulder, and carry you to Egypt or America, or Antarctica. Just somewhere for away where seasickness and close daily proximity will make you fall in love with me. She laughed at his seriousness.
With a twinkle in her eye she said, " well, dread Pirate Darcy, that is quite a threat. I guess it leaves me little options. What, sir, is your question?"
"Marry me." It was not a question.
"So, marry you, or you kidnap me again. I should expect no softer alternatives from a pirate."
Her tone was playful, her face glowing. Darcy was quite pleased with the prospect of her answer.
"Your answer Madame," he said playfully strict.
"Yes. Since I do hate traveling by" but she could not finish for her pirate fiancé's lips covered hers, preventing speech.
After a very pleasant interlude, Elizabeth looked up into Darcy's eyes smiling. She left his arms and walked to the closed door.
"And just where do you think you're going?" asked a very happy Darcy who was not quite willing to let his Elizabeth out of see the rest of the world.
"I'm going to be a governess." She left the room with an impish grin.