Chapter 12

Elizabeth, meanwhile, had arrived back at her husband's townhouse at almost three in the morning, but she could not think of sleep for some time, she felt so lighthearted. Vincent was out for the night again – no doubt visiting his mistress – and so she did not have to worry about him. She hummed to herself as Sarah helped her undress and then put on a nightgown.

"You look as if you had a lovely time, my lady," the maid ventured to say.

Elizabeth sighed in bliss. "I did. It was marvellous." She suddenly looked at Sarah carefully. "Sarah, do you remember Mr. Darcy, from the house party this summer?"

Sarah looked confused for a moment, then nodded. "Yes, mistress."

"If he were to write to me, would you be able to help me keep up a correspondence with him, without my husband's knowing?" She blushed, feeling embarrassed that she should ask Sarah to help her with such an improper thing. But Sarah only smiled.

"I should be glad to, my lady," she said.

Elizabeth immediately felt relief. She told Sarah to go ahead and sleep in in the morning, since she would not need her until later, and then lay in bed and reflected on the evening. The whole thing had been magical. She recalled the feeling of Darcy's lips on hers, his strong arms surrounding and comforting her. She could not wait until she could feel them again.

She came to the realization that she had accepted that she would have an affair with Mr. Darcy. And for some reason, she no longer felt guilty about it. She felt no loyalty to Vincent whatsoever. He did not deserve having her as his wife, nor did he deserve her fidelity. She knew that, according to the Bible, adultery was a sin; but she had been so unhappy that she hoped God would forgive her for seizing some joy where she could.

Unable to sleep for excitement, she rose and decided to pen her first note to Darcy. By the light of the candle, she sat at her writing desk and began.

My dearest F,

I have just returned home from our night at Vauxhall, and find that I cannot sleep for thoughts of you, remembering the press of your soft lips, the strength of your arms around me. I love you, love you more than I could ever imagine a being could love another person. Can you possibly love me the same way? It is almost too wonderful to believe.

I anticipate seeing you again so much that I cannot sleep. Can it be that we did not even know of one another's existence three months ago? It seems impossible to believe. It seems I have known you all my life, and always loved you. You have filled the hollow part of my soul that I did not even know needed filling.

Write to me soon, my love. I will keep your letters as close to my heart as I keep your kiss.

Your beloved,

E.

Elizabeth sanded the letter and then sealed it, putting it in the lowest drawer on the right, where she locked it until she could have Sarah send it tomorrow. She knew Vincent would have no interest in the contents of her desk drawers – he only ever came into her room to chastise her – but she kept the key close anyway, just in case.

Finally, when she had done all this, she lay in bed, and drifted off to sleep, dreaming of Darcy's kiss and fireworks lighting up the sky above them.

It was almost noon by the time Elizabeth woke the next day. She rang for Sarah, and was glad to learn that her maid had gotten some extra sleep after waiting up for her mistress so late the night before. Elizabeth pressed the sealed note into Sarah's hands, giving her detailed instructions on how to deliver it. She had discussed it with Darcy after they had kissed in the shrubbery, and had decided this was the best way to communicate without detection.

After Sarah had left to do her bidding, she breakfasted in her room and then sat to write a letter to Jane. She had already written to her about Mr. Darcy during the house party, giving humorous accounts of his attempts to avoid Miss Bingley and the other marriage-minded ladies. She now told Jane that Mr. Darcy was in London, and had introduced her to his younger sister. Miss Darcy she described in affectionate terms, and then described the night at Vauxhall to Jane, of course leaving out the very private parts that she could tell no one. She did not want anyone to suspect her feelings for Mr. Darcy. She knew what she was doing, or planning to do, with him was wrong, but she was too happy for the first time in almost a year to care. In fact, she did not think she had ever been this happy. She was in love, and was loved in return, and nothing had ever felt so wonderful.

She did have a fear in the back of her mind that Vincent would find out about her relationship with Mr. Darcy. She knew that if Vincent realized that she had been unfaithful, he would kill her, or hurt her so badly that she would wish he had. Fortunately, now that they had arrived in London, he was so consumed in his own pleasures that he largely ignored her, except for when he needed a hostess, or for appearance's sake at a party or ball. She prayed that his indifference would continue. Still, she knew that she needed to be very careful.

Darcy, in the meantime, had risen for the day and had gone down to his study to work when Williams brought him a sealed envelope with only the letter F written on the front. He had discussed with his valet the night before the methods of passing letters to Lady Carlisle. Williams had been with him since he was seventeen, and he knew the man would keep his counsel.

He opened the letter eagerly, seeing Elizabeth's handwriting for the first time. He devoured the note with his eyes, reading it through three times before he sat back and sighed with pleasure. He must write her back at once.

Getting out his pen and ink, he retrieved fresh parchment and expressed the outflowing of his heart in as passionate a manner as Elizabeth had done.

I am going to find a place where we can meet in private, my love, he wrote at the end. Perhaps, in the meantime, you might invite G. to an afternoon at the Museum of Art, and I can come along. I know you enjoyed seeing the paintings at Vauxhall. I think you will enjoy this even more.

I cannot wait to see you and kiss your soft ruby red lips again.

All my love,

F.

He quickly folded the letter, not using his official seal when he poured the wax to secure the paper. He noticed that Elizabeth had not done so either. It was safer that way. If the letter were accidently handled by someone else, they would have no idea who it was from. He did not want to give Carlisle an excuse to hurt Elizabeth again, which he surely would if he found out she were secretly communicating with another man.

The thought of Elizabeth's husband brought anger again to the surface, as it always did when Darcy thought of him. The shame in Elizabeth's voice last night when she had admitted that he chose the clothes she wore made his blood boil. No woman should have her life managed to such a minute degree. And that he could treat a woman such as Elizabeth in such a manner made him even angrier. He wondered again if she regretted accepting his proposal. He supposed she must after everything Carlisle had done to her. Surely there could have been another way to save her family. He wished again with all his might that he had met her first.

At the house party, she had told him about her relations the Gardiners, who were in trade. Elizabeth had not said as much, but he supposed that Carlisle insisted on denying her family. She had spoken of them in a tone of voice that suggested she missed them.

He wished he could meet them. They sounded like genteel and educated people; but if Carlisle had forbidden it, he did not want Elizabeth getting in trouble by seeing them when she was not supposed to.

He called for Williams and gave him the missive to send back to Elizabeth, then he tried to get some work done. Only a few hours passed before Georgiana knocked on the door to his study.

"Hello, sweetling. Did you have a good rest?" he asked.

"Oh, yes, I did. I had the most wonderful time last night, Brother! And I think Elizabeth enjoyed it too. She has sent me a note, asking if we might meet at the Museum of Art sometime in the next week." Her eyes were wide with excitement. "Might we go?"

Darcy laughed with delight. "Of course. I would like to see Lady Carlisle again. She enjoyed the art at Vauxhall."

"I do not know much about art," said Georgiana worriedly. "Perhaps she will think me ignorant?"

"I would not worry about that, Georgie. Lady Carlisle is the most modest woman I know. She would never think less of a person for something like that. I also know for a fact that she is very fond of you."

"I am glad to hear it!" said Georgiana with a smile. "She said tomorrow night she has to host some of her husband's friends, but that we could go the next day."

Darcy frowned involuntarily at this reminder, but quickly cleared his countenance. "You can write back and tell her that we would be happy to go whenever she is available."

As Georgiana departed happily to write back to Elizabeth, Darcy began thinking more seriously about a place that he and Elizabeth might meet in private. He had admitted to himself that he was thoroughly bewitched by her, so much so that he was willing to go against his principles to be with her. He had already broken his moral code by kissing her last night. But now all he could think about was kissing her again, touching her soft skin, making her his. Carlisle had not kept his marriage vows to Elizabeth: he was not her true husband, except in the eyes of the law. In Darcy's eyes, Elizabeth was his wife, and she would forever remain so.

Elizabeth had had the disagreeable task of being hostess to Vincent's friends and their wives the night before, and she was looking forward to meeting the Darcys at the Museum of Art today. As much as she wanted to see Georgiana, she longed to see Fitzwilliam even more. They had exchanged a several letters since Vauxhall a few days ago, and Elizabeth felt cherished as she never had before. Darcy's letters were always overflowing with passion and love, and they made her feel warm inside. She wondered what it would be like to make love with such a man. She had shied away from such thoughts up to now since it was not proper; but once she had decided she wanted to be with Darcy no matter what, her thoughts circled back to the idea.

Vincent had complained that she was frigid. It was true she had never enjoyed his kisses or his lovemaking. In fact, on her wedding night it had hurt so much that she had asked him to stop. Instead of ceasing, however, he had only hurt her more.

But she had enjoyed Mr. Darcy's kiss. Could it be that she could enjoy his lovemaking as well? She thought with a shiver that she might soon find out.

She arrived a little early at the museum and had a chance to look about her until the Darcys arrived. When she heard Georgiana calling her name, she turned to the siblings with a smile. Both of them were smiling widely at her, and Elizabeth took Georgiana's hands then kissed her cheek.

"How lovely to see you, Georgiana. Hello, Mr. Darcy." She tried to keep her tone level. She did not want to reveal her feelings for Mr. Darcy for everyone to see, especially his little sister. But she could see a special look of tenderness in his eyes that she knew was only for her.

"I am so glad you invited us, Elizabeth! I am afraid I do not know much about art, but perhaps you can teach me!"

Elizabeth laughed. "I am afraid I am probably more ignorant on the topic than you are, Georgiana. Your brother will have to enlighten us." Both ladies looked up at him with a smile.

Darcy offered an arm to each of them, and they began their tour of the art, feasting their eyes on works by men such as William Hogarth, Thomas Gainsborough, and Joshua Reynolds. They had been there for about an hour when they heard a voice that made all of them grimace.

"Mr. Darcy! Miss Darcy! What a delight to find you here!"

Miss Bingley was approaching at a brisk pace, although she missed a step when she saw Elizabeth, and her mouth tightened. Louisa Hurst was behind her.

"You should have told us you were coming! We could have arrived together!" Miss Bingley continued, ignoring Elizabeth.

"Miss Bingley, Mrs. Hurst," Darcy said in a displeased voice, bowing briefly. Georgiana looked hardly any happier as she greeted the ladies.

Mrs. Hurst took Georgiana's arm as Miss Bingley attempted to take Darcy's to lead them away; but Darcy would not allow them to be so rude.

"You remember Lady Carlisle?" he asked. "She is our guest today."

"Yes, indeed," said Miss Bingley in a sour voice, turning to Elizabeth with a fake smile that looked more like a grimace. "How pleasant to see you, Lady Carlisle."

"Miss Bingley," said Elizabeth with a slight nod, smiling in silent amusement.

Elizabeth watched over the next half hour as Darcy grew more and more displeased with the company he was being forced to keep. The ladies pretended they were giving all their attention to Georgiana, but Miss Bingley managed to cling to Mr. Darcy, not deterred by his terse responses.

Elizabeth felt rather sorry for Darcy and Georgiana, and could not help feeling a little annoyed herself. She had looked forward to spending the afternoon in Darcy's company, and despite Georgiana and Darcy's attempts to include her in the conversation, the other ladies were ignoring her. Not that she wanted to speak with Miss Bingley and Mrs. Hurst. They were shallow and spiteful, just like the wives of Vincent's friends.

At last, one of the ladies' acquaintances came upon them and claimed their time. Elizabeth saw Miss Bingley's unwillingness to be drawn away, but she also noted Darcy and Georgiana's relief as the sisters left.

"At last," Darcy said in a low voice to Elizabeth as Georgiana stepped ahead of them to look at a landscape. "I was afraid we would never be rid of them."

"You mean you do not wish to marry Miss Bingley?" Elizabeth teased.

"Heavens, no!" Darcy cried with a laugh. Then he became serious again. "You are the true wife of my heart, Elizabeth. There will never be another for me."

"You are my true husband as well, Fitzwilliam," she said, tears coming to her eyes.

Looking about them to see that they were not observed, he pulled her over to a bench and sat beside her. "I have found a place where we can meet in secret," he said in a low voice so no one else could hear. "It is a little house that I found yesterday. I took out the rent under an assumed name. If you arrive there in a veil, perhaps an hour after I have come, we should have several hours together before we have to leave separately."

Elizabeth had known it would come to this point, and she no longer felt guilty in agreeing to Darcy's plan. In fact, she was excited.

"When can we meet?" she asked.

"The house is already furnished, so I only need to hire someone to clean it before we go there. We will not need any servants at the house. That would only be more dangerous, if one of them recognized us. It is only a small house."

"I certainly am used to doing for myself with no servants. For most of my life I was only a country miss," she said.

He smiled, reached out to take her hand, then seemed to realize he could not do so in public. "The day after tomorrow, then? It should be cleaned by then."

"Very well. What time?"

"I will send you a note letting you know. I am not yet certain. You will be free then?"

"I believe so. Vincent has not told me about any plans he has."

"Very well. I will write to you tomorrow."

Just then Georgiana joined them, and they tried to appear as if they had not just been in a tête-a-tête. "Brother, Elizabeth, have you seen this beautiful landscape? It reminds me of Pemberley!"

Darcy and Elizabeth rose to join Georgiana at the painting.