When they reached the end of the tunnel, the cave was almost dispiritingly small after the long carriage ride. Crazy shadows from the shifting lanterns danced about, and the ceiling sloped upwards, to close off at a point at perhaps the height of a fashionable drawing room, a little more than twenty feet above them. That ceiling was barely visible in the dim light. The cave had a circular floor of about twenty feet around.
Mr. Watson pointed at the carvings, shining the light to make them more visible. “St. Christopher, the patron of the Templars. There — Mary, and the baby Christ.” He held the lamp high, moving from image to image too quickly for Darcy to study and take in the carvings. “In those nooks, some statues.”
Georgiana and Jane linked arms, and they laughed together and talked rapidly. Georgiana eagerly examined one carving after another, while Bingley and Mr. Watson held up their lamps for the women to examine the walls at their leisure.
Darcy and Elizabeth walked to the other side, with her hand resting softly on his free arm. Darcy held up the lamp. Many names and other pieces of writing had been carved into the soft limestone walls, around the carvings left by the medieval monks. “John & Rose, 1797”; “Tom Miller”; “Long Live myself!”
Darcy snorted. Elizabeth looked at him and he freed his arm to point. She then leaned down closer, holding his arm again to study it. Then she laughed, a tinkling good-humored sound. “A little disrespect to his Majesty, methinks.”
“Pray tell: How do you know it was not left by the king when he visited?”
Elizabeth giggled, and she put her hand on his shoulder and leaned closer to Darcy. Her eyes glanced to where Mr. Watson stood, with Bingley and the other two women. “Upon my honor,” she whispered into his ear, “hewould have told us if ever a royal had visited.”
Elizabeth stepped away.
Darcy looked at her, glowing and smiling, He leaned towards her. She obligingly tilted her head so that he could whisper his reply into her finely shaped ear. “But if he came in disguise? Like Henry studying the army before Agincourt.”
Elizabeth dissolved into giggles, holding her mouth to keep them quiet.
“What amuses you two so much?” Bingley yelled out. “You are not flirting with my sister again, Darcy?”
“Charles!” Jane exclaimed, pushing his arm.
Darcy was in too good a mood to be annoyed. Elizabeth smiled. They walked in the other direction, moving along the curve of the wall a little further away from the rest of the party, keeping as much distance as the cramped cave allowed. They examined together the carving of St. Christopher.
Elizabeth jostled Darcy’s arm. “I know you are despondent. Nowhere to hide the Templars’ hoarded loot that would not have been seen when the cave was first excavated.”
“I fear I must survive upon the rents from my pile.”
“A most disappointing expedition,” Elizabeth agreed, smiling at him, the dim light making the rounded skin of her cheeks glow softly.
“I am not disappointed.”
“Neither I,” she replied in a breathy voice.
He and Elizabeth felt alone and isolated from the others. The air was warm and humid and rich with possibility. Their eyes held each other, and Darcy felt with a terrified spasm in his stomach the idea that the moment was propitious and he should bring the matter to a head and ask for her hand. He couldn’t look away from her face.
Darcy tried to open his mouth, but like a vise, nervousness grabbed him and clamped his teeth shut. The anxiety was like nothing he had ever felt before. He did notknowshe would reply in affirmative.
Elizabeth looked away from him, and then down. She talked at a quick pace, with an unexpected nervousness in her. She told a story that was unimportant, yet completely important, because it was from her childhood — the time she had seen the cave as a girl, with her father and mother and sisters.
The drone of noise from the opposite side of the cave continued. Mr. Watson kept trying to impress Georgiana and Jane with descriptions of the carvings and stories of the Templars being tortured. Bingley laughingly added nonsensical stories he made up about the matter.
Darcy felt so close to her, and so entirely certain that he would marry her and that he wished to marry her. He wanted to touch her cheek and pull her face closer so that he could kiss her.
Elizabeth looked at him, and desire was there in her eyes too.
In a snap the world and the existence of others came back. Bingley asked Darcy a question, and Darcy heard it and replied. Both he and Elizabeth looked at Bingley. They followed Bingley to the other side of the cave. Jane and Georgiana asked Elizabeth what she thought of a particular image.
Darcy’s heart raced.
They discussed the artwork. One of the figures was a man in full plate armor, and Darcy said, “Such suits were contrived quite late. During the time of the Templars such a piece would be unlikely. I suspect the cave was made at least a century after the order was dispersed.”
“What, no!” Bingley exclaimed. “He looks like a Templar knight.”
“The dates are entirely wrong,” Darcy replied. “Only in the fourteenth century did such armor become common.”
“The Templars! I’ll insistthatto the end.”
