A Peculiar Connection (30 page)

BOOK: A Peculiar Connection
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“You look particularly well tonight, Miss Bennet.”

I smiled. In truth, I could not yet keep from smiling. All the joy I thought I had lost and all the love I had repressed for almost a year now coursed through me without restraint. I simply could not constrain my elation. My aunt walked into the room just as the maid carried the wet towels out the door.

As simply as possible, I told her of what had happened at Peter Darcy’s cottage and how I had responded, how Mr. Darcy found me, and that we had professed our love for each other. She, in turn, was not only relieved but also exceedingly pleased that I was to be happy at last with the man I loved. The moment we had returned, she had guessed, of course, that something momentous had occurred to provoke the felicity that neither Mr. Darcy nor I could mask.

Throughout the meal, I felt William’s eyes upon me like a gentle caress, and I am certain that my love for him shone forth each time I looked up and met his gaze. Georgiana had not failed to notice the change in her brother’s spirits, but fortunately, she did not recognize the connection between us as the cause.

“I think that walk in the rain did you good, Wills.”

“Indeed?”

“Yes, your temper has lightened. I declare that I have not seen you this pleased in months.”

“I believe you are right, my sweet sister. I must walk in the rain more often.”

She smiled innocently, and I clutched my napkin to my face to hide my amusement.

Following dinner, Georgiana played on the small pianoforte Lord Killaine had installed before we arrived. Although she deemed it inferior to the one her brother had given her at Pemberley, she was able to coax one lilting tune after another from its keys.

Suddenly, Mr. Darcy rose. “I am in serious need of dancing a reel!”

“A reel!” Georgiana cried, clapping her hands. “Oh yes, I know the perfect Irish air.”

“Come, everyone,” he demanded. “We must all join in.”

Shock evident upon their faces, Mrs. Annesley and Mrs. Gardiner laid their needlework aside. Mr. Darcy called the servants and assisted them in quickly shoving the settee, chairs, tables, and chaise back against the walls.

“Now, let us participate. Yes, all of you. Ladies, come now. Mrs. Gardiner, you may partner with Mrs. Annesley, and Elizabeth…you shall dance with me.”

Mr. Darcy graced me with a most tender look. It took all my strength not to run into his arms.

The older ladies protested at first, but the gentleman would not be dissuaded. He signalled Georgiana to begin and then held out his hands, indicating that all four of us should join hands in a circle. Upon commencement of the first notes, much hilarity ensued as we skipped and bounced our way around the room. Mr. Darcy called out encouragement with each change in pattern. Never had I seen him behave with such disinterested abandon. We laughed until, after three dances, Mrs. Gardiner begged to be seated, complaining that the merriment had caused a stitch in her side.

To quench our thirst, we sipped sherry. We continued to laugh and talk for some time. Conversation sparkled, for Mr. Darcy treated us to one amusing anecdote after another. Where had this man been hiding all my life? Discarding the burden from his heart had freed him in more ways than I ever imagined. I knew he possessed a reserved nature, and I doubted that night’s excess of spirits signalled a permanent alteration in his character. Nevertheless, such knowledge did not prohibit me from thoroughly enjoying the pleasure he allowed himself to exhibit that particular evening.

At length, the ladies began to yawn, and they and Georgiana soon bade their good nights. I lingered a bit, hoping to snatch a moment alone with William.

“Are you coming, Lizzy?” my aunt asked, walking toward the door.

“In a moment, Aunt.”

She cocked her head. “Be sure to look in on me before you retire, my dear.”

“I shall.”

“And do not be long.”

I nodded, knowing she would not sleep until I had done as she wished. Once the door closed behind her, however, William caught my hand and pulled me to him.

“She knows, does she not?”

“She does, and she is more than pleased for us. I could not keep from telling her.”

“I am happy that you did. I long to step outside the door and shout to the entire world, ‘Elizabeth Bennet loves me!’”

I laughed and leaned my head back to gaze up at him.

“Do you know how much I love you?” he said softly.

“I think so, but I should dearly love to hear you tell me all the same.”

“I would rather show you,” he whispered, gathering me close.

I lifted my face to his and felt myself surrender as his lips covered mine. Softly, he caressed my lips, nibbling and teasing until they parted. He then captured my mouth, provoking delicious waves of desire to flood over me. Unknowingly, I spread my hands over his chest, stroking repeatedly until I reached his face. His arms had encircled my waist, and he pulled me nearer and nearer.

“I cannot hold you close enough,” he whispered in my hair.

“You shall. Never fear, William, you shall.”

He smiled, softly tracing his thumb along my chin. “Such a long time to wait.” He groaned. “How shall I survive until we return to Longbourn? Think of that sea voyage that awaits us!”

“I have every confidence in you. Once you set your mind to something, your will is unrelenting.” My tone was gently mocking.

“Except when it comes to you. My love, you will always be my weakness.”

“I cannot picture you with any weakness.”

“Now that you are privy to my confession, you must be merciful.”

I smiled. “Then, for mercy’s sake, I shall leave you now.”

“And in what manner can your leaving me be considered mercy?” he cried, reaching for me as I stepped out of his arms. “Your absence certainly will not relieve my suffering.”

“Still, it is prudent, for if I do not, I fear that my aunt will soon walk through the door to fetch me.”

He sighed. “If you must.” As I took another step from him, he pulled me back. “One more kiss before parting.”

Reclaiming my lips, he proceeded to take my breath away once again, and it was with the greatest difficulty that, at length, I managed to loosen myself from his embrace. As I began to climb the stairs, he watched me ascend, but when I reached halfway, he covered the distance between us in two long strides. Holding my face in his hands, he kissed me quickly, released me, and then kissed me again.

I have never taken longer to reach my chamber than I did on that glorious night.

][

The next morning, I awakened late. I had slept more soundly than I had in over a year. Consequently, I walked into an empty breakfast room. As the servant set steaming coffee and muffins emitting an exquisite aroma before me, he said that Master Darcy had gone out, and the ladies were assembled in the parlour.

Surely, William has not left for Peter Darcy’s cottage without me
, I hoped.

“Please ask Mrs. Gardiner to join me,” I directed the servant. Within moments, she walked into the sun-lit room, dressed to go out, but for her pelisse.

“You are up at last, Lizzy.”

“Forgive me. I did not know it was so late.”

She waved her hand to dismiss my apology and then hastened to announce that all of us were to call upon Father Darcy that afternoon. She also explained that Mr. Darcy had gone on some errands but would return within the hour to escort us.

“All of us? What do you mean, Aunt? Has Mr. Darcy informed Georgiana of what transpired yesterday?”

She assured me that he had not but stated that he thought it proper to introduce his sister to his uncle directly. He had arranged with Mrs. Gardiner that, after a suitably short visit, she would suggest that Georgiana and her companion join her for a walk along the river. Mr. Darcy and I would remain behind so that we might talk with the priest alone.

“Will Georgiana not question why I fail to accompany you, for she knows I am fond of walking?”

“You are to say that you are tired from your long sojourn in the rain the day before and that you prefer to wait in the priest’s cottage until we return.”

Mrs. Gardiner smiled as though she enjoyed this small attempt at artifice. She also said she longed for Mr. Gardiner to join us so that Mr. Darcy could formally ask his blessings upon our union. In Papá’s absence, he would serve as my guardian.

Perhaps
, I thought,
William ought to ask my true father for his permission,
but I did not give voice to my reflection.

Our scheme for the afternoon succeeded without impediment. I was relieved to find that Father Darcy had survived the night after receiving such a shock. It was distressing, however, to see that he was unable to rise from his bed. Father Rafferty ushered us in and explained that the older priest’s strength had failed him that morning. Father Darcy, however, was pleased to meet his niece, and he was cordial to her companion and my aunt, but I noticed that his eyes rarely wandered from my person.

The younger priest cautioned us not to prolong our visit, which aided in my aunt’s design to remove Georgiana, her companion, and herself after only a brief visit. Father Rafferty also departed at the same time after assuring his friend that he would return later that evening.

Once they had safely withdrawn from the house, Mr. Darcy questioned his uncle as to the true state of his health and whether he wished us to leave also. The priest dismissed his nephew’s concern.

“I must talk to Elizabeth. I must tell her how it all took place. You may stay, Fitzwilliam, for you should hear this also, especially since you have suffered from Catherine’s tale about George.”

Mr. Darcy sat in a chair at the foot of his uncle’s bed while I settled myself on a stool nearest my father. I leaned forward so that I might hear every word he wished to say and gazed into a pair of eyes that matched mine, but for their age.

“Dearest child, you truly are my daughter. Although you are the image of your mother, I can see bits of myself in you as well. What must you think of me, leaving you to be reared by another?”

“Let us not speak of that now, Father. I so long to understand what happened all those years ago.”

He reached out his hand and patted my cheek before closing his eyes. Seeming to travel back in time, my father began his tale.

“I fell in love with Elizabeth Willoughby during the summer of 1790. I had returned home from Cambridge and found myself restless, accepting at last the bitter truth that I could not be an Anglican vicar as my father had planned before his death and as my older brother, George, presumed I would do. After spending countless hours at my ailing mother’s bedside, listening to her urge me to remain true to my Catholic faith, I, at last, tired of the emotional struggle and sought refuge on the back of my favourite horse. Several times a week, we roamed the trails that led us throughout the hills and woods of Derbyshire.

“One day, after a particularly long, hot ride, I dismounted some distance from the grounds at Pemberley and threw myself down in a grassy meadow. I allowed my horse to nibble at the tender, green shoots while I rested. I had almost fallen asleep when I heard a rustling in the trees some distance away and the distinct musical tone of a girl’s laughter. I rose to follow the sound. I crept into the wood, whereupon I heard footsteps retreating through the bush. A twinkling of colour appeared before my eyes, and I darted after it in full pursuit.

“She led me on a merry chase before I caught her, but I was well rewarded with what I had snared. For there before me stood a barefoot girl with laughing eyes, a wild tangle of dark curls streaming down her back, and an arch smile upon her lips that proved enchanting.

“When she identified herself as Elizabeth Willoughby, I could not believe the beautiful creature standing before me was our neighbour’s little girl from Bridesgate Manor whom I had seen now and then through the years. When had she grown up? And why had I never before noticed how lovely she was?

“From that moment, we became inseparable. She was as natural as the forest she loved and yet foreign to every woman I had ever known before in my one and twenty years. A freedom possessed her—freedom from drawing rooms, parlour conversation, pretence, and formality. It was as though she and the earth were one, and outdoors, under God’s benevolent eye, hidden deep in the wood that adjoined Pemberley and Bridesgate, she thrived as a healthy rosebud blossoms when given generous servings of rain and golden sunlight.

“I found everything she did and said fascinating, and she, in turn, encouraged my company. She shared her favourite haunts with me while I entertained her with tales of my life at Cambridge and of my family’s plans for me to inherit the living at Kympton.

“‘That means you are to be a vicar,’ she said.

“‘And therein dwells the dilemma.’

“‘I do not understand,’ she said. ‘Do you not wish for a career in the church?’

“‘Not the Anglican church.’

“I then explained to her about my mother’s Irish heritage, about her elopement with my father, her subsequent break with her family, and of her living a lie throughout her marriage. I described how she had attended Anglican services all those years with her husband and sons and allowed her children to be baptized in the Protestant religion. All the while, she yearned in her heart for George, Henry, and me to someday become members of the true church. Elizabeth, of course, had no idea of what
true church
I spoke, but she was as open and innocent as a child when I began to teach her Catholic doctrine.

“At length, we visited the small chapel in the wood at Pemberley that my father had allowed to be built for my mother. There, Elizabeth accepted further instruction in the faith from the priest, Father Ayden. It was not long before she professed a desire to become baptized. After doing so, she received Our Lord in Holy Communion and completed the necessary studies for Confirmation. All this was done in secret, of course, and our growing relationship remained hidden.

“Elizabeth’s younger sister, Eleanor, often accompanied us on our rambles in the wood, but she feared the priest and would not enter the church with us. She did keep watch without, however, to make certain we were not discovered. We made it into a sort of game, which she found highly entertaining, and she was only too pleased to play at what she considered an adventure. Eleanor had no idea of the gravity of her sister’s decision or the growing strength of our feelings for one another.

BOOK: A Peculiar Connection
6.69Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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