Chapter 19

Charles Bingley was right.

Two weeks passed very quickly...for him!

But for Darcy and Elizabeth, the two weeks seemed interminable.

Darcy had learned, during the years since his father's death, to get along very well on his own. The person to whom he had always been closest, Georgiana, was more than ten years his junior, and while he loved her dearly, it was she who had depended on him for care and comfort. Darcy himself had depended on no one.

So it came as something of a shock to him to discover how quickly his happiness had come to depend upon Elizabeth Bennet. He was lost without her. He dreamed of her every night and the dreams varied according to his level of loneliness and frustration.

Some of his dreams were comforting. These were not at all sexual in nature; rather, he would awaken feeling not aroused, but cherished. It was as though Elizabeth were next to him, and he felt enveloped by her love and devotion. He could almost feel her physical warmth, and it took some minutes for him to come to the disappointed realization that she was not truly there with him physically. These dreams made him long for the day, coming in just a matter of weeks, when he would, in reality, awaken in the warmth of her embrace.

Other dreams were more explicit. Sometimes they were a replay of sorts, as though he were a spectator at Netherfield, watching Elizabeth and himself in their first discoveries of the physical delights their love could bring. Or they were even more explicit than reality, and he saw himself making love to her fully, as he would when they were married.

A few dreams were disturbing. In them, he was without her, as he had been after his proposal at Hunsford. He saw himself walking from the parsonage as he had that heartbreaking day, angry with her and angry with himself for his weakness in allowing himself to love her. He would tell himself in his dream, "No, she loves me, she is mine...wake up!" When he did awaken, he would be bathed in sweat, his heart racing, until he recovered his mental capacities and realized he had been having a nightmare. There was no prospect more terrifying to him than returning to what he was last year, when he despaired of Elizabeth's ever loving him.

He counted the days until she arrived at Pemberley, and as the day approached he grew anxious. She had written him but once, having teasingly admitted to him before his departure that she was a poor correspondent. Her letter's tone had been loving, but it had not been a "love letter."

My dearest Fitzwilliam,

Will you be angry with me when I admit that perhaps our forced separation has been for the best?

Being at Netherfield without you has allowed me to take long walks in the park without arousing anyone's suspicions or concerns. Of course, when I visit that very special, secluded spot we visited together last week, it does inspire recollections which cause me to wish mightily for your presence! You are subject to no such uncomfortable recollections, I am sure, and occupy yourself with the furnishings of Pemberley. I shall be most disappointed if you have not installed suitable draperies, Fitzwilliam, as you devoted considerable time to contemplating their selection even whilst still at Netherfield.

I do apologize for the brevity of this letter. Baby Charles is crying, and Jane needs my assistance. We shall be leaving for Pemberley in six short days (you see, Fitzwilliam, I truly am counting the days), when I shall resume teasing you in person rather than in writing!

Until then, my love.

Yours,

Elizabeth

Darcy knew he was being lovingly teased, although he felt a strong urge to spank her for the deliberate impertinence of the drapery comment! He envisioned, for a moment, Elizabeth across his lap with her skirts raised, and became immediately and uncomfortably aroused. He considered his response to her letter and actually began to write:

I am sorely disappointed that you doubt the industriousness of my efforts to prepare Pemberley for your arrival, Elizabeth, and I have, indeed, ordered new draperies. I am tempted to spank you for your impertinence when you arrive, but I fear Charles will not allow us sufficient time alone.

He read what he had written and groaned. To Elizabeth, teasing came naturally, while his own sounded forced, even haughty. He tore up the sheet of paper and began anew.

My dearest Elizabeth:

I hope this letter finds you and your family well and that you are anticipating your stay at Pemberley as eagerly as I am.

I have, indeed, devoted much of my time preparing Pemberley for your arrival and I trust my efforts will meet with your satisfaction.

He sighed. This latest effort was even worse than the first! It sounded so impersonal and stilted. Perhaps the third time would be the charm.

Elizabeth, my love:

You may tease me all you like, my impertinent lady, but trust me when I say all thoughts of draperies and furnishings will be banished from your mind when you are again in my presence. If I take you to my bedchamber, it shall not be to show you its furnishings, but to utilize it for that most pleasurable purpose for which our marital bedchamber will always be intended.

So, my dear, if you teasingly request to see those "draperies and furnishings" upon your arrival at Pemberley, you must be prepared to accept the consequences. Consider yourself warned.

Dream of me tonight, my love, as I dream of you.

Fitzwilliam

He smiled and nodded with satisfaction as he sealed the letter. He would intentionally post it late enough so that she would have no opportunity to write a response before her departure. He wanted her to stew a bit!

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It was fortunate, indeed, that Elizabeth was alone when she opened Darcy's letter. With just a few brief words, Darcy had made his point very well! The deepest of blushes overspread her face, and his letter accomplished its intended purpose, namely to inspire in her an intense physical longing for her beloved.

"Consider yourself warned." Oh, my!

"Dream of me tonight, my love." No doubt she would, on this last night she would spend at Netherfield before departing for Pemberley.

Despite the lighthearted tone of the letter she had written, Elizabeth was finding it more difficult to tolerate their separation than she cared to admit. She had become accustomed to Darcy's presence, his loving glances, his surreptitious touches. She tucked his letter under her pillow so that she might read it again before retiring for the night.

Tomorrow, the party of four would leave for Pemberley. While these two weeks had been a time of waiting and longing for Elizabeth and Darcy, for Caroline Bingley and Mr. Clifton, the time had passed much more eventfully.

Charles Bingley had been more than happy to accede to Alex Clifton's request to court his sister. Alex, for whatever reason, seemed to bring out the best in Caroline. Caroline encouraged his attentions, although she did not behave as one would expect a woman in love to behave, but for that matter, neither did Alex behave as an ardent lover.

Caroline had been incensed when she learned Elizabeth Bennet and Mr. Darcy planned to marry at the end of June. An engagement of less than six weeks! It was unthinkable. How on earth was she to plan a wedding quickly enough so that it would precede theirs? The answer was that it simply was not possible. And she could hardly broach the subject of a wedding to her brother before she was even officially engaged.

Mr. Clifton never told her he loved her, but Caroline was not perturbed. The man found her desirable, she told herself, and he was a man of means and property. He humoured her -- up to a point, as he did not hesitate to point it out to her when her behaviour was rude or her actions unacceptable.

Caroline did wonder why he never tried to take liberties, although she would not have allowed them. It did not make Mr. Clifton any less desirable as a prospective husband, in fact, the opposite was true. Her admiration of Mr. Darcy had never extended to her wanting his physical person. She wanted Mr. Darcy because, as she saw it, he was the man any single woman (and several married women as well!) in their circle would have wanted, and nothing pleased Caroline better than having something everyone else wanted and could not have.

Mr. Clifton would never be the catch Mr. Darcy was, and it had grated on her nerves every time she saw Darcy with his intended bride, because the two of them were obviously so besotted with each other, always making sheep's eyes at each other, and "accidentally" touching each other when they thought no one was looking at them. Nothing she said, not matter how pointed or insulting, seemed to disturb them. She was positive she even saw the austere Mr. Darcy laughing at her the evening before he left for Pemberley! How dare he?

She decided that while she could not stage her wedding sooner than Elizabeth's, she would exceed it in grandeur and elegance. She accelerated her efforts to impress upon Mr. Clifton that she would eagerly accept his proposals. One Sunday afternoon, less than a week after Darcy left for Pemberley, Mr. Clifton knelt before her and had barely gotten the words "Will you marry me, Caroline?" out of his mouth before she answered, "Yes, Alex, I will!"

There, that was done. She anticipated her journey to Pemberley with Charles, if for no other reason than to throw her engagement in Darcy's face. She planned to spend the weeks after Darcy's wedding, leading up to her own planned ceremony in September, shopping for the most expensive and ornate wedding garments. Only the best of everything would do for Caroline Bingley, and she anticipated the day when Mr. Clifton's considerable resources would be at her disposal so she could begin the transformation of Rosewood Manor into as close an approximation of Pemberley as large quantities of money (and her questionable taste!) would allow.

If Caroline had hoped her loudly and frequently announced plans for the grandest wedding imaginable would incite any feelings of regret in Elizabeth at her own, more quickly arranged celebration, she was sorely disappointed. Elizabeth and Darcy, for reasons of their own, wanted nothing more than to be married as speedily as possible, and more than once had discussed the tempting option of letting others plan a wedding while they stole away to Gretna Green, where they could marry and find a nearby inn where they could consummate their simmering passions before their marriage was an hour old! Their brief sojourn at Netherfield had been one of the rare opportunities before the wedding to be alone long enough to satisfy their need for each other.

Elizabeth offered her congratulations to Caroline and Clifton on their engagement, but secretly she feared that happiness would be impossible for Alex Clifton. She strongly suspected that his affections were engaged elsewhere, and she doubted his compatibility with Caroline Bingley. Elizabeth was certain that, were Caroline ever to suspect that Alex cared for Jane Bingley, she would make his life miserable.

After a night during which Elizabeth dreamed incessantly of Darcy, she awakened early so that she might prepare to leave for Pemberley. She mused that if Darcy proved to be as skillful a lover in reality as he was in her dreams, married life would be pleasant, indeed!

She read his arousing little tease of a letter one last time before they departed, then tucked it within the pages of the book of sonnets she packed in her truck. It might be amusing, she thought with a mischievious smile, to confront him with the letter when she arrived at Pemberley and demand that he expound on its meaning. She was still occupied with daydreaming about the possible outcome of such a scenario as the carriage pulled away from Netherfield.

Chapter 20

Darcy found himself standing near the window during much of the afternoon upon which he expected Elizabeth to arrive at Pemberley. He had dreamed of this day for so long; indeed, well before he proposed to her at Kent.

If he had been completely honest with himself, he would have realized that he had begun to think of marrying her on the evening of the Netherfield Ball. He remembered how irritated he had been because of her obvious partiality towards Wickham, and how frustrated he had felt at his inability to reveal Wickham's deficiencies of character to her.

After their dance together, which had been fraught with misunderstanding and repressed passion on his part, he had found himself observing her mother and sisters. Although he had never said the words, even to himself, he knew now that he had used her family's impropriety as justification for ruling out the possibility of considering Elizabeth as a possible bride. And he had left Netherfield soon after, taking Bingley with him, because subconsciously he knew he would not have been able to be close to Elizabeth without wanting her as his own. If he had followed his heart instead of his logical mind, he would have cast aside his doubts and pursued her then.

When he saw her again at Rosings, he was utterly lost, and he knew it. When he returned to Pemberley, her angry, scornful words still ringing in his ears, he had felt the loss of her keenly. She should be here with me.

And now, finally, she would be.

Georgiana smiled as she watched him. His anticipation was transparently delightful to behold, and she rejoiced for him.

"Fitzwilliam, why do we not wait outside. It is a beautiful day, and..."

He looked up.

"Is it that obvious, Georgiana? How eagerly I anticipate Elizabeth's arrival?"

"Yes it is, William. Obvious, and understandable." She slipped her arm through his.

They stood at the end of the footpath, where the road began. Darcy looked off into the distance, listening for the sound of a carriage approaching.

"I want to see her face, when she looks upon Pemberley for the first time," he said softly.

The brother and sister stood together in companionable silence for some minutes, when at last, Darcy squinted, gazing down the road.

"I believe..." he said, resisting the impulse to hasten down the path to meet the carriage he saw in the distance. As soon as he could make out the outline of Elizabeth's face...she was wearing a blue bonnet...he kept his eyes fixed on her. As the carriage drew nearer, she saw him as well, and a wide smile illuminated her face.

She had indeed admired the grounds, the foliage, the lake, the bridge; she had exclaimed at all of these, until she saw Darcy waiting for her, and she was then so fixated on his beloved face, that all else was of no consequence. Darcy could not be disappointed at her lack of expression upon arriving at Pemberley House, because she did not even see it. All she saw, all she wanted to see, was him.

She was standing before the carriage came to a stop; he was there extending his hand to her before she stood. Charles's greeting, Caroline's face, Clifton's smile, all these were but a blur to him as he reached up to her. Rather than taking her hand, he grasped her about her slim waist, and lifted her up and out of the carriage, kissing her before her feet even touched the ground.

"Oh, Lizzy, Lizzy," he murmured. "You are home."

In some ways, Darcy had felt the pain of this recent two-week separation more than he had during the year he had been away from her company. For now she belonged to him and he knew, rather than merely suspected, the joy she could give him. He sat next to her at tea, accompanied her on a short tour of the gardens, then escorted her to her chamber so that she might rest for an hour or two before dressing for dinner. He wished, most irrationally, that he might be free of the watchful eyes of Charles Bingley so that he might enter her chamber and lie down next to her, holding her in his arms while she slept. Just two more weeks, he thought.

As the dinner hour approached, he waited at the foot of the stairs, debating whether to go upstairs and knock on her door, but before he could decide, he saw her coming down the stairs.

She was wearing a simple frock of the palest shade of rose. Its soft fabric clung to her figure and when she reached the bottom step, Darcy had to resist the impulse to bury his face between the cleft of her creamy breasts, temptingly displayed by the garment's daring neckline.

"Lizzy," he whispered. "You are driving me mad! I am aching for you."

"No less than am I, for you," she replied, taking his arm so that he might escort her into dinner. They were alone in the hall, so Darcy clasped her to him, then kissed her soundly, not caring if anyone observed them. Hang it all, he thought, in two weeks we shall be one, and I shall answer to no one.

Charles turned the corner and did, indeed, see them, but as Darcy then broke the kiss and turned to enter the dining room with Elizabeth, he remained silent. He waited until the couple were out of sight before he himself proceeded into dinner.

Dinner was a festive occasion, Darcy heartily congratulating Caroline and Mr. Clifton on their engagement. Caroline made a point of describing in minute detail all her elaborate preparations for her wedding and was disappointed to realize that Elizabeth Bennet was barely listening. She made an appropriate response now and then, but she could not take her eyes off Mr. Darcy, who returned her stares with equal intensity.

Mr. Clifton was unusually quiet and drank a bit more wine than was his custom. He listened to Caroline's descriptions of their upcoming wedding with some interest, but wryly thought he was little more than an invited guest. All he need do was arrive at the church, and Caroline would orchestrate the rest! Charles Bingley sat across the table from him, and the more Clifton drank, the freer he felt to regard his friend in an odd manner, making Charles somewhat uncomfortable for reasons he could not fully understand.

"I believe you must be missing the company of your lovely wife, Charles," he said.

Charles sighed. "I must admit that is so, Alex, but she thought it best that she remain at home with the little one. She is not yet feeling up to the rigours of a long journey."

"Perhaps we might engage in pursuits of a manly nature, Charles, as you find yourself unaccompanied. Might I suggest a game of billiards?"

"Excellent idea, Alex," Bingley responded.

Clifton took a long swig of wine, draining the glass, and poured another. He stood, a bit unsteadily, and nodded to the others.

"Will you excuse us?"

"Certainly," Darcy responded, somewhat miffed that Clifton intended to leave his annoying fiancee behind. Georgiana, claiming fatigue, had retired early, so Caroline Bingley was all that stood between his having some time alone with Elizabeth, which he sorely craved.

"So, Miss Eliza, you have spoken little of your wedding plans. It does seem rather a hurried affair!"

"Yes, I suppose it is," Elizabeth replied placidly.

Caroline waited for her to expound on her simple statement, but Elizabeth remained silent, so she tried another approach.

"I can hardly believe there has been time enough for you to prepare for a wedding of the magnitude Mr. Darcy requires, but I suppose you are in a hurry to marry and live at Pemberley."

"On the contrary, Miss Bingley," Darcy said, unable to remain silent, "it was I who suggested a speedy marriage, and had Miss Bennet truly been in a hurry to marry and live at Pemberley, she would have accepted..."

Elizabeth lay a quieting hand on his arm. Caroline Bingley need not know that Darcy had proposed to her for the first time last year!

"I am fatigued from today's long journey, Miss Bingley," Elizabeth said. "Will you be good enough to excuse me?"

"Certainly, Miss Eliza." I will be more than happy to amuse Mr. Darcy in your absence!

Darcy offered Elizabeth his arm and smiled.

"I will, of course, show you to your room. Good night, Miss Bingley."

Seeing her surprise at his rudeness in leaving her alone, Darcy could not resist adding, "Mr. Clifton is in the billiard room with Charles. You might want to seek him out and inform him of your latest wedding plans!"

Caroline was fuming when they left the room. She would, indeed, seek out Mr. Clifton and her brother so that she could inform them that Elizabeth's bad breeding seemed to be rubbing off on Mr. Darcy. She made her way down the hall, and turned the corner to open the door of the billiard room, ready to begin speaking the moment she entered.

She stood frozen, unable to speak, a rarity for Caroline Bingley. Charles was leaning forward over the billiard table, cue in hand, positioning himself to take his shot. Mr. Clifton was behind him, nearly on top of him, his own arm covering Charles's. His face was turned to the side, so that Caroline could see his expression. Eyes glazed, complexion heightened, his breathing was audibly laboured.

He straightened immediately when he saw Caroline, and Charles made the shot.

"There, Charles!" he said, his speech slurred. "You can thank me for that shot, my friend. I loosened him up, Caroline, showed him how to position his arms just so!"

"You are drunk, Alex!" Caroline exclaimed.

Charles looked at his sister sheepishly. There was an open bottle of wine on the sideboard, and without Jane's tempering presence, he had imbibed a bit too enthusiastically himself. He had not indulged as freely as Clifton, but then again, he did not have to face the prospect of marriage to Caroline!

"I apologize, my dear lady," Clifton said expansively.

"It has been a long day," Charles said, "and perhaps it is time we all retire for the evening."

Clifton attempted to approach Caroline, but she stopped him.

"Do not speak to me again, Alex, until you have recovered your faculties!"

She stormed out of the room ahead of the two men. Charles supported his friend as they mounted the stairs, and when they reached the top, they saw Elizabeth and Darcy standing outside her bedchamber, engaged in quiet conversation. Darcy was holding her hand, gazing into her eyes, and Bingley was satisfied that his behaviour was all that was proper.

Bingley, due to the fatiguing nature of the day's journey and the excess of alcohol he had consumed, found himself anxious to retire. He bade them all good night, and when Darcy was once again alone with Elizabeth, he whispered, "It appears Charles will sleep most soundly tonight, my love."

Elizabeth dropped her gaze, then looked up again, her eyes clear and her expression steady and assured.

"Show me our chambers, William. I would so like to see its furnishings by candlelight. And yes, I am more than willing, as you indicated in your letter, to face the consequences!"

Darcy nodded.

"Lizzy, I have already acquired the license. Marry me tomorrow, here at Pemberley. No one need know, we can go through with the ceremony at Longbourn in two weeks' time if you like."

She took his hands in hers and brought them to her lips to kiss them.

"Yes William, I will marry you tomorrow. But please, my love, make me your wife tonight."