Page 43 of The Sole Love

“What do you say, Elizabeth? Is there?”

He looked at her so intently that she blushed but did not avoid his eyes. She only nodded and murmured, “There is!”

Before realising what was happening, she felt him take her hand and guide her deeper into the woods, in the opposite direction from their sisters. Elizabeth instantly abandoned all resistance. It was what she wanted, what she had gradually begun to dream of since returning from Kent and acknowledging how mistaken she had been about him. Vaguely worried that Mary and Miss Darcy might see them, she decided to set her fears aside. There was no doubt that Mr Darcy would ask for her hand and their engagement would become official. But there was no one in sight.

He abruptly stopped and took her into his arms, but this time he was not a friend but a lover taking possession of her body. He kissed her above the neckline of her gown and then let his lips gently travel from her neck to her ear before they sought her mouth. Their lips met, and the world exploded as they heard Mary and Miss Darcy calling them in the distance.

Fortunately, the two girls thought they were playing a game. They moved away and hid behind the trees. But then Elizabeth, laughing, let them see her, and the three of them ran towards the path and then to the house, leaving Mr Darcy behind.

He needed that time alone. Their incredible embrace and that interrupted kiss had aroused a powerful feeling that left him utterly dazed. Never in the past had a woman unleashed the urges that this virginal woman did with a mere kiss. He probably would have gone to her chamber that night, had she slept alone, to ask her to marry him and make her his woman. But that was only a mad dream, and finally he accepted that Elizabeth needed time to understand that love was so much more than a young girl’s feelings. And he began to enjoy that part with all his soul…and body.

Elizabeth waited for him in the dining room, feeling close to shyness. This was a new situation between them. That sudden quickening of passion had led to a kiss that created a new dimension in their relationship. And at last, that evening, they were sure of each other’s feelings.

They sat apart at dinner, but it was ideal seating, as they could look at each other, and that was all they needed.

∞∞∞

The next morning, while they stopped at an inn to change horses, Mr Darcy invited Elizabeth to stroll along the neat path that linked the inn to the main road. The other travellers were gathered around a table beneath a large chestnut tree, drinking coffee or tea, while Mary and Miss Darcy, arm in arm, walked in the opposite direction. There seemed to be an affectionate conspiracy at each stop to let them share a walk or simply talk within sight of the family, yet far enough away to have the illusion of solitude.

“I want to apologise,” he said unexpectedly.

She wanted to look at him but noticed other eyes fixed upon them with curiosity. So she shifted her parasol to give them some privacy, fearing that the others might hear their discussion.

Mr Darcy smiled at her gesture. “Do not worry. They cannot hear what we are saying. The wind is from the opposite direction.”

“Why are you apologising?” she asked.

“Because I had the wrong impression of your mother.”

Elizabeth blushed and tried to hide, this time from him.

“I know we somehow decided not to speak about Kent, but some things need to be said. I did not know your mother then and had seen her only briefly while we were in Hertfordshire, but I formed an impression that was also gleaned from gossip and small talk. It is the worst way to know a person. And now I discover a beautiful lady, so well-mannered and considerate, that I feel ashamed. I am sure Sir William did not understand her words, or worse, attributed them to her with the intention of diminishing my opinion of your family, which is exactly what happened.”

Elizabeth did not say a word, both pleased and embarrassed. She was pleased to see how easily Mr Darcy could change his opinions and impressions when another interest was involved. And in their case, she understood how much he wanted to like her family.

In fact, as distressing as Jane’s situation was, it had also produced something good. Her mother dressed with greater care, probably hoping to attract her husband’s attention, spoke less, and seemed to reflect before expressing her opinions. Elizabeth remembered her mother’s visit to Netherfield when Jane had been ill. Even after all those months, she was still mortified by Mrs Bennet’s endless and futile tirade. But it seemed that her dear Mr Darcy had forgotten those uncomfortable memories and was ready to replace them with new ones, entirely favourable to her family.

She was right, but only regarding Miss Bennet, her parents, and, lately, Miss Mary. The other two sisters continued to displease him, and he intended to keep Georgiana as far from them as possible. He was sure that certain gentlemen from Pemberley’s neighbourhood would keep Miss Catherine and Miss Lydia occupied.

Elizabeth could not escape the embarrassing realisation that Mr Darcy had been right after all. They were not a perfect family, far from it, and her reaction to his criticism had been excessive and, ultimately, unjustified.

“However,” Mr Darcy continued, “I find your father rather sad and worried. Is that his normal disposition?”

Elizabeth did not know what to say. She had a sudden urge to tell him the complete truth. Mr Darcy was an honest person who, even if they did not marry, would keep their secret. But then she decided that it was neither the time nor the right place to unveil such a tormenting story. She did not want him to think that she had chosen to visit Pemberley only for Jane’s benefit and thereby create another misunderstanding. It was quite the opposite. Elizabeth was happy that they were trying to solve Jane’s romantic problem; however, she was going to Pemberley for…its master.

They stopped on the last day of their journey, twenty miles from Pemberley, at the home of a close friend of the Darcys, Lady Rowena Acton. It was her summer residence, and the family had not yet arrived from town. Still, the house had been prepared for their visit. Acton Manor was a spacious residence surrounded by a park that impressed the travellers with its apparent wilderness. It was the season for roses, and the place was overgrown with blooms of every colour, masterfully planted to give the impression of nature in the wild.

They all descended from the carriages and walked the short distance to the house.

“Do not be fooled,” Mr Darcy said, smiling at their admiration of the floral display. “Lady Acton has an army of gardeners who work all year long. This apparent wilderness is the latest fashion in elite gardens.”

It had rained during the last day of their journey, and grey clouds still remained, but Mr Darcy hoped the weather would clear for their arrival at Pemberley.

“We shall see a great deal of Lady Acton and her children. They often come to Pemberley, as we go into the surrounding woods for shooting and fishing,” Mr Darcy said at dinner.

They admired the luxurious mansion, which was also comfortable and cosy.

“I do not understand,” said Lydia. “How can a family have such a beautiful place and come only for the summer?”