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Which meant their separation now would ensure they could never be happy with another. Their sadness would be with them for rest of their lives.
So agitated was Elliot that a headache soon blossomed, thumping away between his ears. Not long after his stomach began to ache. He lay down on his bed, looking up at the pale ceiling, thinking of all that had happened. He did not emerge to say goodbye to Fitzwilliam, or to attend dinner. Indeed, Elliot did not leave his room again until the very next day when it was time for church.
Darcy would be there.
He knew this.
He had thought about it all night long, sleep eluding him hour after hour.
And Elliot knew something else too, knew it deep inside as they made their way across the dew laden ground to the church. There could never be another shared walk, another talk in any language at all, or another kiss. Because how, how could he possibly ever speak or smile again, with the man who had ruined perhaps forever the happiness of his most beloved brother?
Thirty-Six
Darcy had missed his morning walk with Elliot far more than he had expected to and was keen to see him again. He therefore hurried to church that Sunday in a manner that he had not been wont to do since he was a small boy.
Lady Catherine held the highest rank within the area and so she had her own nave of the church for herself and for family members alone. It was directly opposite where Mr. Collins as the clergyman was invited to settle his own family. Darcy therefore had an excellent view of Elliot once seated and he attempted to catch the omega’s eye.
Elliot did not look at him.
Darcy was surprised by that but wondered if the absence of a day between them might have caused Elliot to feel an element of shyness given what had happened. Darcy knew that he was not the only one that had felt the connection when they had touched.
It was inevitable.
Inescapable.
And it was time to act upon it.
He urged Mr. Collins to hurry through the interminable litanies and the overly wordy sermons, reflecting that Elliot had been correct and they were quite dull indeed. Eventually services were complete, but Darcy was obliged to share some words with various members of the congregation and by the time he was free, Elliot was nowhere to be seen. Where had he escaped to?
“Mr. Collins, where may I ask is Mr. Bennet?” he demanded.
“He planned a walk,” Charlie said.
“In Rosings Park?”
“No, Mr. Darcy,” Charlie replied. “He has taken to walking down to the river.” He paused for a moment as if he would like to say something else, but then shook his head before turning his attention to other members of the congregation.
The river was a good half hour walk away so Darcy left immediately in search of his elusive omega. Elliot exercised regularly and so was able to cover the distance quickly, but so was Darcy and they met on the river at about the same time.
“Mr. Bennet?” he said the moment he spotted the other man.
Elliot was stood next to the bank, looking at the flow of the water, his hat in his hands, an odd expression on his face. He turned a moment later and looked across at Darcy.
“Mr. Darcy.”
He was so handsome. Darcy had known it for some time but any doubt he might ever have had about the extent of that beauty was silenced forever as the spring sunshine danced off the river and over him.
“You have taken to afternoon walks now,” Darcy said softly and mainly so he could say something.
“Indeed.”
“Might you pause here a moment by the river?” he asked.
“It is quite beautiful at this time of year,” Elliot said, turning back to the water. “I have enjoyed this river during my time here. It is the same one that flows through Longbourn you know. You could follow it from here, it might take the better part of a day, perhaps two, but eventually it would end up back at my home, my family’s home.”
“Elliot…I…”
The use of his first name, the only time Darcy had ever done so, was enough for Elliot to realise that something was amiss. He turned back and tilted his head.
