“It took me very little time to notice you, but a great deal of time making an effort not to notice you.”
“You fought it so? When, then, did you begin to love me? I can comprehend your going on charmingly when you had once made a beginning, but what set you off in the first place?”
“I cannot fix on the hour, or the spot, or the look, or the words which laid the foundation. It is too long ago. I was in the middle before I knew I had begun. Can you name the moment when you first realized that you loved me?”
“Easily—it was in Lambton, at the inn; I had just told you of Lydia’s folly. You said you were leaving, and I assumed that you wanted to avoid any further association with me. I thought that I should never see you again, and that was when I knew that I loved you.”
“You should have known by then that you could not be rid of me so easily!”
“Please recall that I had, at that point, hardly begun to reassure myself that you still cared for me at all! I am almost afraid of asking what you thought of me, when we met at Pemberley.”
“I felt nothing but surprise at first. Well, in truth, my very first thought was that I had somehow conjured you up from thin air, since you had been very much in my mind all that day.”
“As you had been in mine, but I had the excuse of being at your home, and hearing about you from your housekeeper. But why were you thinking of me?”
He took her hand and looked at it gravely. “You would no doubt be startled, my love, to know how frequently you were in my mind then.” He paused, remembering that afternoon, and his decision to reach Pemberley a day before the remainder of the party in order to have the opportunity to privately exorcise Elizabeth’s ghost from his home. It was the first time he had been there since Kent, and he had spent so many hours imagining her by his side there that he knew his return would be a painful reminder of the fact she would never be his. Finally clearing his head from the constant refrain of she has never been here; she never will be here during his ride to Pemberley, and then almost the minute he dismounted, he discovered that she was there.
He thought with mortification of the figure he must have cut then, covered with road dust and no doubt stinking of horse. “When I came across you there I was certainly at my least presentable, not only in appearance but in my complete inability to hold a coherent conversation—and what did you think, seeing me so?”
Elizabeth colored and laughed. “I was far too preoccupied with my own embarrassment to give a thought to your position! I thought you would believe I was throwing myself in your path, and I certainly did not expect any consideration from you at all!” She paused, then added, “But I must admit I did notice how handsome you looked.”
“That, my dearest, sounded suspiciously like a provoking comment! But back to the past, before my resolve weakens, I have often wondered about the letter I wrote you—did it soon make you think better of me? Did you, on reading it, give any credit to its contents?”
“At first reading, I tried to dismiss it all as falsehood, but almost immediately I recognized the justice of some of your points, especially as regarded Wickham. I grew absolutely ashamed of myself, I, who had been so certain of my perceptions; and I bitterly regretted the accusations I had made to you. It took somewhat longer for me to admit that your role in separating Bingley from Jane, while unsupportable from my point of view, was at least capable of a different interpretation than I had given it. I had already realized, even before receiving your letter, how poorly I had treated you; that, in presenting me with the compliment of your affections, you deserved at least politeness from me.”
“Perhaps if I had been more polite and respectful toward you, that would have been true, but as it is, I deserved the full measure of your anger for my behavior that night.”
“You came in for more than your share of it, sir, since you unknowingly presented your proposal at a time when I was already fully exasperated with you. Colonel Fitzwilliam, only that afternoon, had let slip something which confirmed your role in Bingley’s decampment from Netherfield, and I was quite preoccupied with that when you arrived.”
“While I, in my abominable pride, believed you to be wishing, expecting my addresses. Can you believe my vanity?” he said with a remorseful smile, and kissed the palm of her hand.
Elizabeth laughed lightly. “I can believe it quite well, since it was not so many months until I was indeed wishing for your addresses! I have often wondered if, had I recognized your inclination earlier, I would have been able to look beyond my prejudices to find the good in you sooner.”
“Elizabeth,” Darcy said with great seriousness, “you did me the greatest of favors in refusing my first proposal. Not only did you teach me a much needed lesson about how my behavior looked to the world, but it also allowed me the very great privilege and joy of knowing that you have now accepted me out of affection, not merely for the place I could offer in society, which is why I expected your acceptance then. I would not be deprived of that for the world, my love.”
He wondered if she realized just how vulnerable he felt when he told her of his feelings and her importance to him, and he leaned over and kissed her tenderly in search of that reassurance he could find only in her touch.
She put her hand lightly to his face and said, “Since I would not be deprived of you for the world, I must thank you for allowing us a second chance after my behavior in Kent.”
“How could I have let you go, once I saw you again?”
Their lips met again, and Elizabeth closed her eyes to further savor the exquisite sensation that ran through her. She could feel Darcy’s attempt to restrain himself, and all too soon he pulled away, leaving her still hungry for his touch. She was slightly comforted to discover that his breathing was somewhat ragged as well.
“Elizabeth, may I ask you a question?”
“You seem to have done so several times in the last few minutes, and I do not believe I have objected so far!” she teased.
He lifted a hand to cup her cheek. “You never actually answered me when I asked why you wished to move the wedding forward,” he said, his gaze intent on her.
Elizabeth felt her breath coming more quickly. “Oh, dear. How precisely am I to answer that without being provocative, Mr. Darcy?”
His eyes darkened, and he allowed his fingers to trail along the line of her jaw. “You managed to use my name perfectly well in church earlier, my love.”
“Who is being provocative now?” Elizabeth struggled to keep her voice from trembling as she involuntarily responded to his touch.
“Should I stop?” His lips caressed her neck, then moved agonizingly slowly to the tender skin below her ear. She clutched at his shoulders for support. “Elizabeth?”
She felt his need echoing her own and, hearing the plea for permission in his voice, shuddered as his arms came around her. “Do not stop,” she said huskily into his ear. “Please do not stop.”
Giving up any vestige of control, he pulled her to him, and she rejoiced in the feeling of his body against hers. She moaned his name, further kindling his need, and his mouth met hers with a fiery passion that stirred her deeply. His hands on her back encouraged her to press herself against him, and she felt every inch of her body crying out for his touch.
How long they lost themselves in each other’s arms was unclear; Elizabeth only knew that it ended too soon, and she found herself leaning against his shoulder. “So much for behaving,” she said shakily.
“So much for not being provocative!”
“What do you mean? I was quite careful not to say anything provocative!” she cried.
He laughed. “Do you not know how much you provoke me simply by being near me, looking at me, smiling at me?”
“I believe that I am being held to an impossible standard!” she teased.
“Leaving me in an impossible position, madam, which is why I favor making you my wife as soon as possible.”
She leaned back and met his eyes. Raising an eyebrow, she said, “Thursday, then?”
He smiled. “I believe that I can survive until then, given an adequate number of kisses to keep me going.”
“And what, pray tell, would be an adequate number, sir?”
He paused as if to consider, reveling in the sense of freedom and lightness that he experienced only in her arms. “I will tell you when you we get to it,” he said, suiting his actions to his words by recapturing her mouth. “But I hope you were not planning on getting home soon.”