Now, at last, there was no one to interrupt them.
Her fingers tightened slightly at his shoulder as she leant nearer still, no longer uncertain, no longer hesitant. Whatever reserve had first marked his touch had vanished; there was a quiet certainty in the way he held her now. It was not the same as those first few kisses shortly after their engagement; it was as though, now that the plans were firmly in place, he had at last allowed himself to believe that she was truly his.
For a moment, she forgot everything beyond him—her mother, her sisters, the various concerns that had pressed upon her thoughts all day. There was only this: his arms about her, his lips moving on hers, and the sensations their connexion awakened in her.
Even as she yielded herself completely to the feeling, she felt him begin to withdraw, a little at a time.
He still held her tightly, but the movement of the kiss slowed and gentled, more restrained until at last he drew back—but not far. His forehead remained near hers, his arms still about her, seemingly reluctant to release her entirely.
Elizabeth did not move away. Her breath was still uneven, and she found she had no wish to put distance between them. For a moment, neither spoke.
“Wednesday seems an interminable wait,” he breathed.
“And yet,” she murmured, her voice wavering slightly, “we must endure it. I do not think I find it much easier than you do—particularly if you are to kiss me in such a manner again.”
With a smirk that Elizabeth could only describe as slightly rakish, Fitzwilliam bent forward and captured her lips a second time.
It was many minutes before they regained their composure, and longer still before they were able to return to Longbourn.
Fourteen
Dinner passed without incident, though Elizabeth found the quiet of the table far preferable to the agitation her mother’s presence would have ensured. Mrs Bennet had remained upstairs after being informed of the plan for a Wednesday morning wedding, and Lydia likewise did not appear, still being restricted to the nursery. The remainder of the party—her father and sisters, her uncle and aunt, Fitzwilliam, and Georgiana—sat down together for the evening meal to pleasant conversation.
The rector had written to confirm that the licence would be in order, and that no impediment to the marriage existed; however, he was engaged on Tuesday morning and could not attend them. He had assured her father that the church would be prepared, and that he would be ready to perform the ceremony on Wednesday. Still, he wished to meet with the couple on Monday morning to confirm the details of the ceremony.
Mrs Bennet had, of course, been apprised of the engagement earlier that afternoon, but the particulars had not then been settled. Elizabeth had been walking out with Fitzwilliam when her mother was told of theplans that had been made—this time in no uncertain terms—for a Wednesday morning wedding.
From her aunt’s account, and her own long acquaintance with her mother’s disposition, Elizabeth could scarcely determine which sentiment had prevailed. Mrs Bennet had alternated between delight at the prospect of seeing one of her daughters so advantageously married and dismay at the haste with which the affair was to be concluded. At one moment she declared herself the happiest of mothers; at the next, she lamented that such an occasion could not be properly celebrated, nor her daughter suitably displayed before the neighbourhood.
That the wedding must take place so soon—without the benefit of invitations, new gowns, or the full admiration of Meryton—had seemed, to her, a most grievous disappointment, even as she grudgingly congratulated Elizabeth on her good fortune.
By dinner, however, her agitation had overcome her. Elizabeth was not at all surprised that she had remained in her room, likely as a form of protest that her wishes would not be followed.
For her own part, Elizabeth was grateful for the reprieve; yet even in the calm, she was not wholly at ease. Jane, who had remained unusually quiet throughout the afternoon—particularly after rejoining the family—spoke little at table, and though she answered when addressed, there was a reserve in her manner that Elizabeth could not but notice.
When the meal was concluded, Fitzwilliam signalled his need to depart. His servants had gone ahead to his leased house, and while everything was likely prepared for his short stay, there were still matters of business requiring his attention. The following day being Sunday, he was to return to Longbourn after joining the family at services, and remain until supper.
Elizabeth accompanied him to the door.
“It seems very strange to say that I shall miss you, and yet it is true. Still, I find myself most impatient for the morning to come, that we may be together again tomorrow,” she said quietly as they stood in the doorway. Her lips curved into a faintly impish smile as she added, “We must takeanother walk tomorrow afternoon—and perhaps repeat the activities we so much enjoyed.”
He groaned softly at her words, and Elizabeth could not but take a certain satisfaction in the effect she produced. She had not been mistaken—the depth of her feelings had increased with surprising rapidity over the past weeks, and at times their strength astonished her. Since receiving his letter of explanation in April, her regard for him had begun to change; yet upon seeing him again, she had soon perceived that such regard had deepened into something far more tender, particularly as she observed the marked improvement in his manner.
These reflections occupied her mind as she bade him adieu, the pair exchanging a few chaste kisses before he at last took his leave. Elizabeth lingered for a moment against the closed door; but when she opened her eyes, she found Jane standing nearby, as though she had been waiting for her. For a brief instant, Elizabeth wondered how much her sister had observed; yet, conscious that she had committed no impropriety, she met her presence without embarrassment.
“Lizzy…” Jane began, then hesitated, as if uncertain how best to proceed. “Aunt Gardiner spoke to me earlier, and it seems that, in some respects, I have been mistaken in what I believed when you came here.”
Once again, she paused, her countenance revealing how unsure she was to continue. “Yet it is difficult to comprehend how you came to be engaged to Mr Darcy, of all people, considering how you once thought of him. I have no wish to question you, but it is impossible to be entirely easy. You seem so very decided—and one would wish to be assured that it is your happiness which guides you.”
“Jane, I assure you, I am entirely happy in my choice,” Elizabeth replied, glancing about and wondering where the rest of the family might be. “Perhaps we ought to go upstairs, where we may speak more freely. If you wish, I can ask my aunt to join us.”
“No, do not trouble her,” Jane said quickly. “But we should go upstairs. Would you like me to come to your room so we might speak?”
Elizabeth nodded, and the two made their way up together, Jane leading. As they passed the sitting room, Elizabeth noticed her aunt through the open door and offered her a reassuring smile. Mrs Gardiner made to rise, but Elizabeth shook her head in a silent indication that such reinforcement was not needed.
Once they were settled in Elizabeth’s room, in the small seating area they had arranged for themselves, Elizabeth took her seat and waited for Jane to begin.
It took Jane several minutes to compose her thoughts sufficiently to speak. “Can you tell me, Lizzy, how is it you came to change your mind so quickly regarding Mr Darcy? When you left Longbourn earlier this month, I had the sense that your feelings towards him had softened somewhat, but not enough for you to accept his proposal.”
