Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy: The Last Man in the World (4 page)

when
he bent to kiss her, she accepted it with more grace than she had in the past.

He
must have felt the difference, since he carefully drew her into his arms, never
allowing their lips to part. She did not resist him and, finding no other spot
to put her arms, followed her instinct and placed them around his neck. She did
not realize how much more vulnerable this made her until she felt the
strangeness of his body pressed against hers. It was an entirely novel
sensation, and surprisingly enough not an unpleasant one. It felt somehow
natural to touch this way, and, if she did not think too hard about whose arms
she was in, she could even have said she enjoyed the feeling of his arms around
her.

He
did not ask more of her than the gentle pressure of her lips against his, nor
did he keep her in his embrace long. With an air of pleased satisfaction, he
replaced her hand on his arm and began to walk again.

Elizabeth
was more confused by her reactions. It was in her best interests to find his
actions unobjectionable and even pleasant; why, then, should she be disturbed
to find it was so? Still, when she stole an embarrassed glance at Darcy's face,
she saw an expression which bespoke a new happiness on his part, and she
discovered to her surprise that she was glad of it.

"How
are the plans for the wedding coming along?" he asked.

"Quite
well, I believe." Since Elizabeth preferred not to think about her
wedding, she had ceded most of the decisions to her mother. She supposed she
ought to show some sort of interest in it, so she said, "Will any of your
family be in attendance?"

"Only
my sister and Colonel Fitzwilliam. They will not arrive until the previous
night, since I would prefer to minimize the risk of Georgiana encountering ...
Meryton society."

Any
small pleasure she had felt in his company vanished. She could not feel regret
for her inability to love him when he was so ready to disparage her family and
friends. She did not understand how he could possibly expect her to share his
views, yet apparently he did. To think she had almost enjoyed his earlier
attentions!

Think
of Jane,
she told herself. Think
of giving her another chance with Mr. Bingley.

Darcy
was in near-constant attendance upon Elizabeth at Longbourn over the next two
days. He spoke little when any of her family were present, saving his discourse
for when they were alone together. Elizabeth tried to keep those occasions to a
minimum; but, even so, she began quickly to chafe at her lack of freedom.
Finally she suggested to Mr. Darcy that there were some few preparations she
needed to make for their wedding, items she planned to purchase which she
wished to be a surprise to him on their wedding day. Although she was certain
anyone could have recognized this as a weak excuse, Darcy did not seem to
consider it a possibility, going so far as to appear pleased she was making
such an effort.

So
it was he left her to herself for the afternoon. Feeling it incumbent upon her
to live up to her word, Elizabeth took a lingering ramble into Meryton. She
paused in each of her favourite shops, wondering when she would see these
familiar streets again.

On
exiting the milliner's shop Elizabeth happened upon Mr. Wickham.

Her
cheeks were immediately covered by the deepest blush at what he must think of
her. In accepting Mr. Darcy, she must seem mercenary at best and duplicitous at
worst. "Mr. Wickham," she murmured, dropping a curtsey while avoiding
his eyes.

"This
is an unexpected pleasure, Miss Bennet." He sounded as warm and amiable as
ever. She risked a glance at him and saw no hint of disapproval.

"I
understand I must congratulate you."

"Thank
you, sir." Though his bearing reassured her, she was less comfortable with
what remained unspoken. "Although I hope you wish me well, I had not
thought you, of all people, would wish to congratulate me."

An
expression of concern covered his brow. "My dear Miss Elizabeth, you
mistake me entirely. To me, Pemberley is the most beautiful place on earth, and
I cannot imagine you will be anything but happy as the mistress of it. It is
not something one could refuse."

She
released her breath in relief at his respectful tone. Apparently he bore her no
ill will for her decision. Given his interest in Miss King, he must view her as
making the same compromises he himself had. She wished she could confide in him
her true feelings toward Mr. Darcy, but that was a secret she dared not share,
even with him. "I hope I shall like Pemberley."

"If
you do not, I will be most surprised. I only wish I were so fortunate as to
have the opportunity to see it again myself some day."

His
melancholy tone renewed her anger at Mr. Darcy, the cause of his exile. Without
considering how it might betray her true allegiances, she said, "I would
wish that for you as well."

An
amiable smile graced his handsome features and he stepped slightly closer to
her. "You are most kind, Miss Bennet. Although Darcy and I have had our
disagreements, I cannot fault his taste. How can I blame him for making the
same choice I would have made, had I his opportunities?"

Elizabeth
looked down, conscious of the compliment in his words, yet feeling somehow
disloyal for taking pleasure in it. Mr. Wickham must indeed sympathize with her
position if he was willing to push the boundaries of propriety thus far to
reassure her of his good will.

He
must have known she dared not reply, since he added, "My only sorrow is
that your intended is unlikely to permit any further acquaintance between us.
In that way, your gain of Pemberley is my loss of a most pleasant
companion."

"I
hope that will not be the case, though it is unlikely our paths will cross
after I leave Meryton."

"Who
knows? Perhaps marriage will prove a moderating influence on Mr.

Darcy.
But I see Denny coming for me, so I will say my farewells now in privacy."
Holding her eyes with his own, he took her hand and kissed it, his lips
lingering slightly longer than they should.

"Mr.
Wickham," she murmured, uncomfortable with her awareness of him. She
should not be enjoying his attentions. Before she could be entangled in a conversation
with his fellow officers, she took her leave, her thoughts much in turmoil.

Chapter 4

Elizabeth's
meeting with Mr. Wickham preoccupied her on the walk back to Longbourn. It was
an unpleasant shock on her arrival to find Darcy waiting for her. Could he not
leave her alone for even a few hours?

But
as it happened, she had merely forgotten--or perhaps wished to forget--that her
mother had invited him to dinner. So there was nothing to be done for it,
although her lively spirits rebelled at the idea of spending her entire evening
talking with him.

Lydia
and Kitty seemed more determined than ever to embarrass Elizabeth with their
antics. After her sisters had made several comments about the officers which
left Elizabeth blushing for their sake, in desperation she asked Mr. Darcy to
take a turn about the gardens with her, aware of the irony of seeking his
company in such a way when her greatest desire was to have him far away. The
sole advantage of marriage she could see was that she would no longer have to
concern herself with how her family would humiliate her in front of Darcy.

She
was not above using the situation to her own benefit, telling Darcy she had
promised to make a last visit to her Aunt Philips on the morrow, and she was
sure he would be welcome if he cared to accompany her.

The
look on his face spoke volumes. "I understand the necessity for saying
farewell to your relations; however, I do not doubt I can find something to
engage my interest at Netherfield while you do so."

Although
it was the response she had hoped for, it still irritated her enough to cause
her to react unwisely. With a sly glance, she said, "I saw several
acquaintances in town today. Miss Lucas was on her way to the library, and I
met with Mr. Wickham outside the milliner's."

Darcy
frowned. "You should not be associating with Mr. Wickham, Elizabeth. He is
not the man he seems."

So
Wickham had been correct in his assessment. "But we are acquaintances of
some months' standing. I can scarcely escape it now." She took a perverse
enjoyment in her assertion.

"You
do not know the manner of man he is, and I hope you never will.

Promise
me you will not speak to him again."

Elizabeth
had to look away from him, or she would have said something quite intemperate.
It was of little consequence whether she promised or not; as she herself had
said, it was unlikely their paths would cross again.

Still,
the taste was bitter in her mouth as she said, "Very well, if that is what
you wish, sir."

The
resolution did not prove as simple to keep as she had anticipated.

When
she arrived at her aunt's house, she discovered a small gathering in progress
for the purpose of playing cards. Her aunt was seated at a table with several
of the officers, their number including Mr. Wickham. Her pulses fl uttered a
little, wondering what he would think of her presence at such an occasion
without her intended.

But
she had made a promise. Elizabeth resolved that the best solution was to avoid
Mr. Wickham, keeping to the side of the room away from the card players.
Despite the initial success of this strategy, she did not move quickly enough
when the game ended. Before she was aware what had transpired, she discovered
Mr. Wickham taking the seat beside her. How was she to keep her word to Darcy
now?

He
smiled at her amiably. "Miss Elizabeth, you look quite lovely this
evening."

Elizabeth
met his eyes with a look intended to convey her apologies.

After
a minute of silence, Mr. Wickham said with concern, "Are you quite
well?"

She
bit her lip, willing him to understand. Her anger at Darcy for putting her in
this position flared to life again.

It
was unusual to catch Mr. Wickham with a frown on his face, but wore one now.
"Allow me to guess. You are forbidden to speak to me." His tone held
anger and disbelief.

Elizabeth
looked down at her hands, folded tightly in her lap.

"Of
course. I do not know why I am surprised. This is hardly the first time he has
taken from me something I valued on nothing more than a whim. But he cannot
forbid me to speak to you." He paused, then continued in a low tone of
restrained anger. "For your sake I will not tarry. I would not wish to
place you in jeopardy should someone report we were together. That you should
be subject to such demands! If only I had the living I had been promised, I
could have ... But no matter. I would never have met you then. I have that, at
least, to thank him for."

Elizabeth's
lips turned into a slight smile, though her eyes were still downcast. Mr.
Wickham was moving into the realm of outrageous flattery and flirtation, and
owing to her prohibition on speech, she had no recourse to stop him. It was a
fitting retribution for Mr. Darcy.

"I
will ask only one thing of you before I go," he said. "When you are
at Pemberley, when you walk along the edge of the stream and through the woods,
will you remember me sometimes? It would be a comfort to know I would cross
your mind from time to time. I know you cannot answer, so I must imagine your
response and hope it would be the one I wish for."

When
he said no more, Elizabeth finally looked up at him again. He had apparently
been waiting for that, since he leaned close to her and said in a low voice.
"But I promised I would be brief, and I have already said too much.
Remember me ... Elizabeth." With a last caressing glance, he stood and
left for the corner of the room where some of the younger people had collected
for a dance.

Elizabeth
watched him offer his hand to Lydia. She should be relieved he had left her
side, since he had crossed the boundary into impudence.

But
she could not blame Wickham, given the provocation Darcy had given him by
exacting her promise not to speak to him. She knew all too well where the true
blame belonged.

"I
had thought Mr. Bingley might return to Netherfield for the wedding,"
Elizabeth said to Darcy the following day. It had been her dearest hope,
perhaps her only hope, for the occasion: to have Jane and Bingley meet again.

"I
thought it best not to suggest it to him."

Elizabeth
wondered what that meant. "Is he aware of our wedding?"

"No,
I plan to write him once we reach Pemberley. He is often a visitor there, so it
is likely you will see him soon enough."

But
Jane would not. She could not imagine what excuse Darcy might manufacture for
failing to invite his friend to their wedding. "It is of no matter. I was
merely surprised."

Darcy
turned to her and took her hand, a look of concern in his eyes.

"Had
you hoped for a larger wedding? Have I, in my haste to call you my own,
deprived you of this?"

Somehow
it was worse when he was kind. It would be easier in a way if he were always
disagreeable. Why did he exempt her from his scorn for her family?

"No,
not at all. I have no objection to the wedding plans." Apart from their
very existence, she thought.

He
did not seem reassured. "I hope you would tell me if something were not to
your liking. I wish to make you happy, not to impose upon you."

It
was too late for that. At least he meant well, even if his actions did not
match his intent. Unfortunately, it did not begin to outweigh Elizabeth's anger
over his interference with Mr. Bingley and Jane.

"I
assure you, I am not in any way displeased," she said.

He
looked at her with perplexity, as if she were a conundrum he could not make
out.