Elizabeth Bennet
On the road to Gretna Green
The party of three became more relaxed as the first few days of travel were behind them. Elizabeth's anxiety at finding her sister had dropped some, enough that she had become comfortable enough in Mr. Darcy's presence to gentle tease him, and he returned the teasing as well.
She would catch looking at them from time to time, a smile upon her face, and when Elizabeth would raise a questioning eyebrow at her aunt, the woman would just shake her head and return to her embroidery.
On the third night, after she and Mr. Darcy had engaged in a rather enthusiastic game of chess which had garnered many an odd look from her aunt, Elizabeth finally brought it up with her once they were back in their room for the night.
Lizzy sat at the dressing table, pinning her hair up into rags, for the inn had provided them both with a hip bath that evening, and she felt wonderfully clean, her hair so clean it squeaked between her fingers as she rolled it.
"Aunt," she said, her fingers busy twining the long strands of hair onto the clean strips of muslin, "I have a question for you about… mmm, the expressions you have often worn as of late."
"Expressions?" Mrs. Gardiner asked where she sat at the writing desk, penning a letter to Mrs. Bennet to reassure her that they were still looking for Jane. Mrs. Gardiner had written one every night, although the last few needed to be sent by express if they had a hope in arriving soon enough to calm poor Mrs. Bennet's nerves.
"Yes, you look as if, it is hard to place it, but I catch you sometimes looking at myself and Mr. Darcy, and you look amused. Is there a jest you'd like to share with me? I have become most curious as to what those glances are all about," Elizabeth said, tying up the very last curl with a sigh. She shook her head, and felt the familiar, tight sensation of the little rag curls bouncing. Not one was loose, so she could sleep without a concern. She rose from the dressing table and turned to look at her aunt, who was smiling to herself, in that same, vague way.
"Why, it is just nice to see two young members of society in such close confidences," Mrs. Gardiner said, but there was something in her voice that had Elizabeth narrowing her eyes in suspicion.
"And?"
"And what my dear?" Mrs. Gardiner did not meet her eyes any longer, but looked down at the letter she penned.
"We are not the first of the ton to become friends," Elizabeth said.
"No, you are not, my dear," Mrs. Gardiner said absently as she continued to write. "But you are the first that I have seen where each person is entirely oblivious to the affection the other one holds for them." Her words were like a splash of cold water to the face and Elizabeth gawped at her aunt.
"I beg pardon?"
"You love him, Lizzy, it's quite clear to me."
"I… I…" Elizabeth sputtered.
"Oh don't even attempt to deny it, my girl," Mrs. Gardiner said, laying her quill down and turning to her niece with a kindly smile on her face. "You hold him in high regard, and he does the same to you. I dare say he has been in love with you since we first set foot in the carriage, but that would be an understatement. He has adored you since we left Longbourn, if not before then. Had you no idea?"
Elizabeth stood there, having gone silent. Was she so very obvious in her feelings? Oh goodness… she lifted her hand to her mouth.
"Do you think he knows?"
Mrs. Gardiner rolled her eyes.
"Really, I ought to remind you to clean your ears next time we bathe, for I believe you did not listen to me when I said he is unaware as to your feelings for him" Mrs. Gardiner said dryly before getting up, quickly folding and sealing the letter. "Now if you'll excuse me, I shall go downstairs to have the innkeeper post this."
"Yes… all right…" Elizabeth said, and then collapsed on the end of the bed as Mrs. Gardiner left.
Mr. Darcy… in love with her.
And she with him.
It made it more real to have her aunt say so out loud, and Elizabeth felt her cheeks flushing at the very thought of it.
He did propose to you, you ninny, she thought and then covered her face with her hands.
"Oh I have been an absolute fool," she whispered, feeling mortified. She sat up suddenly. So his feelings that day in the bookstore had been true, if ill-timed in their revelation. If it was so plain that her aunt could see it while she and Mr. Darcy engaged in purely innocent pastimes, with no flirtation between them to speak of…
She thought of the sparkle in his eyes, and the quirk of his lips as he smiled at some joke she made, or some other such thing…
Oh. But she was a little idiot. How had she not seen it so plainly?
One thought came to her immediately, that made her blood run cold in her body.
He loved her, and yet he was riding for Gretna Green, to stop the marriage between Jane and his best friend, so he might marry Jane instead.
She got to her feet. She needed to speak with him, immediately. She was halfway to the door of their room when she realized her hair was still in knots, and it gave her enough pause to stop where she was immediately.
She reached up one hand, to tug the rags free… but then her hair would be wet, and she would look quite the picture in the worst way.
Elizabeth cursed aloud, and then was grateful her aunt was still downstairs, dealing with the express. She ached to go to Mr. Darcy, and yet, at the same time, she wished to look her best when she did so.
She turned to look at herself in the glass and shook her head. Nightrail on, dressing robe loose around her figure, and hair in rags. She could not go to Mr. Darcy like this. Her stomach flip-flopped but she remained firm. She would see him in the morning… when she looked better.
And then she would ask him… what exactly? She huffed out an impatient breath as she toyed with what she might even think of saying to Mr. Darcy.
"I am passionately in love with you," she said to the mirror, and then let out a bark of laughter as the words rung in her empty ears. No, she could not say that.
"Do not marry my sister," she tried. That sounded… better. Although he might think her an awful bluestocking for being so bold as to command him what to do. But then, hadn't her own aunt promised her they would looking out for Jane's happiness on this voyage? And Mr. Darcy did not seem inclined to marry Jane in the slightest…
As she stared at herself in the mirror she realized that the only reason that Mr. Darcy could have for coming on the trip to Gretna Green, if not to stop Jane from marrying Mr. Bingley, since he did not seem to want to marry her himself… the only reason he would have for coming was to spend time with her.
"Oh, Lizzy," she whispered to herself, "but you have been a fool."
Even if sleep did not come easily to her, she did not dream, and for the next few days tried to think of a way to somehow talk to Mr. Darcy about how she was feeling. Surely he would not judge her, since he was in the same predicament. Now that she was aware of the depths of his emotions, or presumed depths, each action he took meant more to her.
His hand on hers as he helped her into the carriage. The way he let her have the last of the cheese rolls at a roadside luncheon they took when no inn was to be found. How he promised her, upon trading out their horses at a postal stop, that the animals would be cared for like they were his own, and she saw him tip the groomsman six whole shilling to ensure it.
Every time she turned around, Mr. Darcy was there, with a quiet word, or a little joke, or even a pair of sweet buns that he'd purchased off a vendor when they'd happened across a traveling fair. She'd shared those with her aunt, who had raised both eyebrows again, reading quite a bit into the procurement of said sweet buns.
Proof of his kindness was in every day he spent with him, for despite how frustrating and tiring their journey, he never raised his voice, and he always gave her and her aunt the best room at each inn even though he could have demanded the better for himself.
Each night she lay down on fresh sheets, and plump pillows, and thought of Mr. Darcy, alone in his room, untying his cravat for he had gone without a valet. He hadn't suffered much for lack of his personal assistant, for he still looked as handsome as ever, and Elizabeth had no complaints.
Indeed she rather liked the look of him, every few days he would get a shave in whatever village they passed through, but in-between, he took on the rugged look of what she imagined a pirate might have. It was not genteel, but it was appealing in its own way. And, at the very least, he did not apologize for his appearance, for they were all in the same state. Lizzy's dresses were not pressed as they might have been at home, or on a proper visit somewhere, as the hurried pace of their journey did not allow for a lot of dalliances.
The change in their relationship and how they treated one another was a slow, natural thing, to the point that it seemed almost normal one day when Mrs. Gardiner sat across from Elizabeth instead of next to her, forcing Mr. Darcy to pick between them.
He chose to sit next to Elizabeth, and they spent the next few hours looking in opposite directions, although the few times Elizabeth had snuck a peek, she'd seen a flush of color across his cheeks.
When they stopped for their noon luncheon, Mrs. Gardiner got out immediately, and asked them to stay inside so she might relieve herself in private in a copse of trees at the side of the road. Such necessities were taken while traveling due to the lack of facilities anywhere, and Elizabeth was just grateful so far she'd not had to expose herself in that manner as the road they were on was well-treed and quite private.
The thought of doing that in front of Mr. Darcy was quite too much for her.
So, they sat in the carriage, the both of them, quietly, waiting for Mrs. Gardiner to return. Elizabeth felt the scratch of the clasp on her necklace and itched at it. The thing had been bothering her since the day before, but she hadn't had the chance to take it off.
It itched again and she reached up, meaning to adjust where it lay on her neck, but gasped when the catch came undone and the necklace fell.
Mr. Darcy's hand shot out, and he grabbed it from mid-air before it could hit the floor of the carriage.
They both looked at one another, inches from one another, staring into one another's eyes, until Mr. Darcy sat up properly.
"Your necklace," he said quietly.
"Thank you," she whispered.
"If you would…" he motioned as he spoke, "turn for me, I will fasten it about your neck. The catch looks tricky."
"Yes, it is, quite," she said, although her voice was muffled behind the sound of her heart in her ears. She turned on the seat in the carriage, and held her breath. Mr. Darcy's hands came into view, as the necklace unfurled over her chest, and then he drew it up behind her neck. She felt the whisper-soft brush of his breath over her skin, and then-oh-the touch of his thumb along her the base of her spine for just a split moment.
That moment was all it took, as gooseflesh broke out all over her body, and she hardly noticed when he finished and said she could turn back around again. Thankfully her body obeyed so she would not sit there stupidly, her back to him, and she must have mumbled her appreciation, for he said she was quite welcome, and then they were quiet again.
"Alright then, my lad and lass," Mrs. Gardiner said as she opened the door to the carriage, breaking the moment and causing both Mr. Darcy and Elizabeth to jump. Mrs. Gardiner smiled up at them. She had become quite close to Mr. Darcy in their travels, and they were hedging on a comfortable familiarity that was quite familial. "Shall we have our luncheon?"
New chapters uploaded on Tuesdays, but you may find it in its entirety on Amazon now by searching for 'Nora Kipling - A Required Engagement'.