Page 39 of Love Drunk for Mr Darcy

Elizabeth waved away the apology, unable to keep from smiling herself. "That does sound rather like him."

"It is exactly like him," Anne said decisively. "So if you are waiting for him to ignore what you asked and sweep you off your feet anyway, you may be waiting until the cows come home."

"What are you afraid of, Lizzy?" Jane took her hand. "You have a man who is quite plainly head over heels in love with you, and from everything you have just told us, you sound at least halfway in love with him. He is not your friend, Lizzy. He is your husband. Of course there should be friendship between you, but marriage is not only that." She blushed becomingly at her own words.

Anne nodded. "And Darcy will never ask for more while he believes you do not want it. You made your wishes very clear, Elizabeth. He will honour them until you tell him they have changed." She paused, considering her next words. "It has been less than a sennight since your wedding and already you are struggling with the distance between you. Why not cross it? I suspect you would both be much happier if you did."

Elizabeth thought of the sitting room that connected their apartments. It might as well have been an ocean. She had not even brought herself to open the door. What if Darcy's careful distance was no longer only an attempt to respect her wishes? What if all her refusals had finally cooled the feelings he once professed so fervently? Worse still, what if she crossed that room and found him unwilling to accept her attentions? The thought made her stomach twist. "I do not know if I can," she admitted.

Jane reached for her hand again. "Then perhaps you need not decide everything tonight. Your marriage is still very new, and you are still learning. Let us enjoy this dinner where we are all together and perhaps, amongst family, something between you will ease"

Jane rose from the bed. "Now I really must go. I need to change, and I promised Charles..." Colour rose into her cheeks. "Well, I simply need to ready myself."

Anne laughed at her blushes and stood as well. "Think on it, Elizabeth. Even in Kent, I could see there was something between you. One of you only needs to be brave enough to take the next step, however daunting it may seem."

Chapter Sixteen

By the time she went downstairs for dinner, Elizabeth had only determined that she would behave naturally. Not that she was quite sure what that meant at the moment. She wore the sage green gown she had worn on her first night at Pemberley and had taken much longer than usual over her toilette, her maid looking at her curiously as she asked for several small adjustments to her coiffure. Elizabeth was never normally so particular, but something about the evening seemed to press upon her and she wanted, at the very least, to feel prepared for it.

As she entered the parlour at Pemberley, the atmosphere felt positively raucous. Merry voices spoke over each other. Bingley was giving a speech on the beauty, grace and general perfection of Jane, which made her blush profusely, while Fitzwilliam was regaling Anne and Georgiana with what seemed to be highly exaggerated military tales, though his hand never left his wife's as she sat close at his side. Georgiana appeared delighted with the world and everyone in it. Only Darcy stood a little apart, his elbow resting on the mantelpiece, and as Elizabeth opened the door, his eyes caught hers immediately.

His gaze travelled over her, slowly enough that Elizabeth felt heat begin to rise beneath her skin. For one gratifying moment he appeared to have forgotten entirely that there were other people in the room. Then Bingley said his name and Darcy blinked, appearing to come back to himself.

"Elizabeth." Darcy crossed towards her. "You look very..." He paused, and Elizabeth held her breath. "Very well, indeed."

Elizabeth stared at him. "Thank you." She had spent the better part of an hour being prodded, pinned and rearranged to look very well.

Darcy seemed to realise his mistake. His mouth opened, but before he could attempt a recovery Anne came towards Elizabeth and took both her hands, pulling her into the circle of family and friends.

"You look beautiful, Elizabeth. My cousin is a very lucky man." She threw a meaningful glance towards Darcy.

Dinner was announced before she had too much time to dwell upon it, and they moved through to the dining room in a noisy, cheerful group. The newlywed couples walked arm in arm, their bodies pressed close as though they could not bear an inch of space between them. Darcy led Elizabeth and Georgiana through more sedately, holding himself stiffly so that a very proper distance was maintained between them.

When they arrived at the long table, he accompanied Elizabeth to her seat and pulled out her chair without saying a word. As she sat, she felt the warmth of his breath against her neck and thought she heard him inhale deeply, but before she could turn her face towards him, he was gone, striding quickly to the other end of the table. From where she sat, he might as well have been miles away.

The first course was served and dinner continued in the same cheerful vein as the conversation in the parlour. Elizabeth smiled and nodded where required, but her attention kept returning to the newlyweds. Bingley seemed so attuned to Jane’s every want that he often anticipated her before she spoke. When Jane reached for the salt, he passed it before her fingers touched the dish. When she laughed, he looked towards her as if the sun had appeared from behind the clouds. Once, while Fitzwilliam was in the middle of a story, Jane leaned close and murmured something in his ear. Bingley's face coloured and he looked at his wife with such naked affection and desire that Elizabeth had to look away.

Anne and the colonel had a different dynamic. They teased and poked at each other, but always with such warmth that there was no real heat in it. From the way their bodies were angled, Elizabeth suspected they were holding hands beneath the table. She was happy for them, just as she was happy for her sister and Bingley, but with that happiness came an immense sense that she was missing out on something important. Down the long table, her husband stared at her often, his expression hard to read in the candlelight. During their earlier walk he had seemed so at ease and happy, but still he had kept that careful distance between them. Did he feel any of this churning unease?

As they all filled their plates with a selection of dishes that would have seen Mrs Bennet fluttering at the breadth and quality of Pemberley’s kitchens, Fitzwilliam said something outrageous enough to make her laugh aloud. Elizabeth turned instinctively towards Darcy and found him already watching her. For a moment there was nothing guarded in his face. He looked at her as he had in the cellar, his attention fixed so completely upon her that Elizabeth forgot anyone else was there. Then he seemed to remember himself. He lowered his gaze to his plate and reached for his wine.

Elizabeth's smile faded. It was becoming maddening. He looked at her like that, in a way that made her want to walk the length of the table and throw herself into his arms, and then withdrew behind a mask of civility. Friendship seemed like a ridiculous idea in that moment. She could not be friends with this handsome, maddening man while every look from him threatened to set her on fire.

She tried to return her attention to the conversation, but the sight of Jane leaning into Bingley's shoulder while he whispered something that made her laugh only deepened the ache. Anne and Fitzwilliam were no better. At one point Anne reached across to straighten his cravat and he caught her hand, kissed her fingers and continued his story without the slightest embarrassment.

Elizabeth stared down at her plate. She did not necessarily require finger kissing, although she supposed it might be nice. When she looked towards Darcy again, he was still watching her.

✽✽✽

By the time the women withdrew, leaving the men to brandy and cigars, Darcy was ready to throttle Bingley. His friend looked sickeningly happy and had parted from Jane as though she were being sent to the Americas rather than the drawing room across the hall. He had kissed her hand and then watched the door close behind her with the mournful expression of a man recently bereaved. Meanwhile, Elizabeth had barely glanced at him.

Darcy poured himself a large brandy.

Bingley sighed happily and dropped into the chair opposite. "I do not think I have ever been so content in my life."

Darcy took another drink. "Yes. That has been apparent."

Bingley either failed to hear the warning in his voice or chose to ignore it. "I wasted so much time, Darcy. Months when I might have been with her. I do not think I shall ever forgive myself for it."