Bargain With the Devil Page 5

  In the event, Mr. Bingley stayed for tea but declined dinner. He tried repeatedly to engage Miss Bennet in conversation, but Jane was even more quiet than usual. Mrs. Bennet managed to monopolise the conversation, thus inadvertently helping the couple to overcome the awkwardness of their first meeting after such a long separation.

  When he was ready to leave, Mr. Bingley addressed Elizabeth, handing her a letter… from Miss Darcy. He had almost forgotten his message, so distracted was he at seeing his angel, Jane, again. He finally told Elizabeth that she was invited by Miss Darcy to visit Pemberley as soon as Elizabeth could find the time. He further added that Georgiana and her brother were both eager to renew their acquaintance since they last met in London.

  Elizabeth’s hands trembled when she held the letter. Her countenance turned from desperation to hope. He has not forgotten me! He has sent for me - finally!

  Chapter Five

  Pemberley in late October was magnificent. The weather was getting colder, even in sunlight, but the Buxwood, Yew and multi-coloured fallen leaves created a vibrant mosaic that framed the great estate.

  Elizabeth drew a deep breath of the crisp morning air as she walked to the maze.

  She had been crestfallen, the previous evening, to have found only Georgiana waiting to welcome their party when Elizabeth and Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner arrived. It seemed that a tenant problem on the far west side of the estate's property had called Mr. Darcy away. But the young girl reassured her that he was looking forward to seeing them all again, and Georgiana welcomed Elizabeth like a long lost sister. They did not talk much during dinner, as Georgiana was not used to playing hostess and Elizabeth’s heart was heavy with anticipation and disappointment. They all retired early from an exhausting day of travel.

  Elizabeth tossed and turned the whole night. Although she had been placed in the most comfortable and luxuriant bedchamber in which she had ever stayed, she found herself longing to embrace Mr. Darcy to her bosom, wanting nothing more than to be transported back to the hours they had spent together at that fisherman's hut where they had, at least and at last, been quite alone together.

  She woke up very early and walked out along the garden path, where finally she came upon the maze, at the most remote part of the garden. Its tall bushes were trimmed and shaped most intriguingly, and she walked into it, her heart full of thoughts of the owner of the great estate. While her gaze traversed flowers, pots, and statues along the many twists and turns, her thoughts reflected upon her life, reviewing the things she had done and discussed with this man.

  After half an hour in the maze, she decided to return to the house, but when she turned round, she soon discovered that she was lost, unable to find her way out. It seemed a wryly apt reflection of her life. Was she never to find a way out of the confusing situations into which she got herself? Would Mr. Darcy finally decide that his love for her was over? Would his ardent admiration fade away, just when she had at last found her love for him?

  She could not bear to face such a possibility. She must find a way for him to love her as he once had. She must.

  So decided, she ran from one lane to another, feeling more and more like a trapped animal in a cage. Soon, in her rush to find the way out, she twisted her recently injured ankle, which only made her remember how Mr. Darcy had carried her, a recollection that added to her state of melancholy. She berated herself for having fallen into such a panic as to hurt herself once again. Leaning gingerly against the bushes for support, she took a deep breath, commanding herself to calmness.

  Soon, although the thought pleased her not at all, she decided that she would have to call out for assistance while she slowly, painfully continued her search for the exit.

  “Help! Someone please help me! I am lost in this maze! Help!” Elizabeth yelled as she limped along the twisting paths, hoping that one of the gardeners might hear her.

  Suddenly she heard her name. “Elizabeth! Where are you?”

  The echoing voice of Mr. Darcy was sweet balm on her wounded soul. She limped toward the sound of his voice, turning around another set of bushes. “Mr. Darcy,” she called with renewed hope, "I am here.”

  “Elizabeth!” Finally, Mr. Darcy came to her vision. He looked thinner than when she had seen him last, with an air of distress and exhaustion. “Elizabeth, my lord! What happened to you?” He walked straight to her and wrapped his arms around her waist, taking much of the weight from her injured ankle.

  “Mr. Darcy, you are finally here!” She was overcome with emotion. The grief of the past six months, the uncertainty of not knowing whether she would see him again, the crazed worry of feeling forever trapped in the maze, all combined to overtake her. She rose on her tiptoes, wrapped her arms around his neck, pressed her face to his shoulder and began to cry.

  * * *

  Mr. Darcy, for his part, was still not completely recovered from the infected wound he had suffered. Added to his concerns, the emotional trauma of witnessing Wickham’s violent death and the gloomy sense of unrequited love from not knowing whether Elizabeth would forgive him had proven nearly too much for him to bear, through these long, lonely months of uncertainty. Indeed, at one time, he had wished to rest his body and mind forever.

  His sister had begged him to send word of his continued illness to Elizabeth, but he would have none of that. He could not bear to worry her when she was in mourning, and while her father was still sick. What constructive purpose could it serve to reveal to her that he, himself, was ill? She would not have been free to come to visit him, even if she desired to do so. It would have only added to her burden. He loved her too much to let her worry about him.

  In the end, he tried to stay resolved to the hope that she did not want him to be harmed.

  In the months that followed, his body slowly recovered, but his spirits were still uncertain. Once he was physically strong enough, he sought out Bingley, to correct his officious interference concerning Miss Bennet. Then he returned to Pemberley, determined to prepare for Elizabeth’s arrival. When six months had passed, a proper and respectful time period for those in mourning, he at last felt free to instruct Georgiana to extend an invitation to the Gardiners and Elizabeth, as originally planned. Moreover, Mr. Bingley was due to return to Netherfield, and Mr. Darcy knew that he would be doing a friend a service by asking him to deliver the message.

  In the event, Mr. Darcy was deeply frustrated not to be available to welcome Elizabeth to Pemberley on the day of her arrival. But even the best-laid plans could be derailed by unexpected events. In this case, a pressing tenant problem called him away, and he was not even able to be there when she spent the first night in his home. Thus he was robbed of witnessing her first impression when she viewed Pemberley. Did she approve of it? Her good opinion was so rarely bestowed that it would have been a wonder to see her fine eyes brighten when she first arrived.

  When he had finally ridden back to Pemberley this morning, he felt done in and frustrated. He came expecting to have a short rest before meeting the love of his life in pristine gentleman’s clothing and a calm and steady manner. But, purely by chance, he had walked past the maze and had heard her cry for help. His mind wheeled with worry. What had happened? Surely she could not come to any harm within the sanctuary of his home. He could not allow that to happen, now that they were to see each other again. Dismounting hastily, he rushed into the maze, only to be confronted by the sight of a distressed and limping Elizabeth.

  In that moment, he paid no mind to propriety. He called Elizabeth by her Christian name and wrapped his arms around her tiny waist, determined to take the weight from her injured leg. Even then, however, he had not anticipated that she would so far forget herself as to wrap her dear arms around his neck. Nor was he prepared for her tears, which made his heart ache.

  Overcome, he picked her up and walked a short distance to where a bench stood, at one of the turns in the maze. He settled her on his lap, still tightly embracing her as he rocked her, murmured comforting words for her e
ars only.

  After several minutes, Elizabeth was finally able to stop sobbing. Without regard to manner, she pulled his coat up to wipe her eyes. He silently found his handkerchief and placed it in her hand to dry her tears.

  Elizabeth felt as if she had needed those healing tears to release the suffering and grief of the last six months. Her spirit returned, fed by the knowledge that Mr. Darcy was embracing and comforting her in this moment of distress. But then she remembered his non-communication for the worst months of her life. She pouted, pushed herself away from him, and looked him squarely in the eyes. “Why did you not try to contact me, these past six months?”

  Mr. Darcy looked at her and replied, “I am afraid I was quite ill for a time.”

  “What! You were sick and did not tell me of it?”

  “What good could that have done? I could not send for you. You were in mourning. I knew that your father was also ill and still had need of you.”

  "What illness befell you?"

  “Not an illness, precisely. My wounds became infected. I was feverish for quite a while, and very weak after that. It took me a long while to regain my strength.”

  Elizabeth gasped, distraught that she had not been there to nurse him. “What if you had not recovered!” she exclaimed, horrified by the thought.

  He winced at the volume of her words.

  Seeing his expression, she traced his lean cheeks with her fingertips and said, in a much softer voice, “No wonder you look so thin and tired! And you had tenant problems, last night. Have you slept at all?”

  Wearily, he shook his head.

  “But that cannot be borne!” she protested in concern. “How can you not look after yourself? You have only recently recovered. We must get you inside, out of the cold.” She rose from his lap and took a limping step, but he stopped her with a touch.

  “Elizabeth, I am fine. Truly. I have not felt so well in quite some time. Right now, I want nothing more than to hold you for a little longer. As soon as we return to the house, I will have to pretend to be a gentleman, and sit as far from you as possible, when all I really want is to take you upon my lap and keep holding you.” He drew her down again and held her tightly, then said in an irritated tone, “And who are you to be taking such a tone with me? You have not taken proper care of yourself, either. I can see that you have hurt your ankle again. Am I to carry you around forever?”

  “I… I… got lost, here in the maze, and I felt trapped, like an animal in a cage. It was altogether too much like what I have been feeling for the past six months, tormenting myself over whether you still love me.” She looked up at him, her expression a peculiar blend of daring and entreaty. “Can you possibly still want me, after what happened to Lydia and Mr. Wickham?”

  He frowned pensively. “I might well ask the same of you.”

  She inhaled deeply, determined to bare her soul to him. “I… admire your courage in righting the wrong. I respect your character, which makes you such a responsible master. I think highly of your love for Georgiana. I most definitely do not want you to be harmed in any way. I want to take care of you when you are well, when you are drunk, when you are ill.” She lowered her head before whispering to him, “I… I love you! Indeed I do.”

  She held her breath, waiting for him to reply, and saw that, although he closed his eyes for a moment, his frown did not ease. Then he opened his eyes and asked slowly, again, “You do not blame me for your sister’s downfall?"

  “How could I blame you? I know that you did all that you could do to save my sister. I believe the Bible when it tells us, ‘As ye sow, so shall ye reap.’ As painful a truth as it may be, Lydia was responsible for her own demise.”

  He embraced her again, then pushing her far enough away so that he could see her eyes. “And… you… love me enough to… be willing to be… my mistress?”

  Elizabeth’s eyes widened. Does he mean to threaten or challenge me? She looked at him directly. He seemed to be scorched by her intense gaze and turned his head slightly away.

  She replied calmly, “Love is all about making the other person happy. If by becoming your mistress, it will make you happy, I shall do it.” She lowered her mouth to kiss him softly before asking, “And so, do you still love me?”

  He wanted to cling to her pleasing lips but he could not pretend anymore; whatever the risk, he felt that he must be honest with her or die. “Oh, Elizabeth! I loved you in the past, I love you now, and I will always love you! My wish is to make you the happiest woman in the world. I would never demean you by expecting you to be my mistress. I have never thought of asking you as my mistress, except as the mistress of Pemberley itself. Pray forgive me for testing you, when we first met again in London. Pray forgive me for challenging you again, just now. My self-confidence and my pride were painfully bruised by your refusal in Kent. I needed to be certain before I asked for your hand again. Elizabeth, dearest Elizabeth, will you do me the honour of becoming my wife?”

  Tears welled in her eyes again. She said decisively, “Yes, Fitzwilliam. I have hoped and waited for you to renew your proposal, for some months now. I love you most fervently and it shall be my honour to become your wife.”

  Her reply awoke a flame of joy within him. He wrapped his arms tightly around her body and bestowed upon her a tender kiss, one which lingered and grew more passionate.

  Finally, when they released each other in order to catch their breath, Elizabeth urged him to head back. She did not want him to stay in the cold air for long, and she had been out from the house for some time as well. She feared that her aunt and uncle would be worried for her.

  Like any young man violently in love, Mr. Darcy was in a jubilant mood. He could not wipe the smile from his face or the passionate glint from his eyes. In truth, he did not want to share her with anyone else, just yet. He wanted to stay here alone with her forever. But that, of course, could not be.

  He suddenly remembered some of his happy days here in the maze with his cousin, Colonel Fitzwilliam. Even now, he could not imagine how Richard had become a successful soldier for his cousin had the worst sense of direction. As a boy, he had often gotten lost in the maze. Mr. Darcy, as any carefree young lad would do, would take advantage of the situation and extract toys and promises from him, in return for revealing the way out. Remembering the mischief on his younger days, he flashed a devilish grin and told his new fiancée, “Well then, what reward do you offer me for leading you out of this maze?”

  The mention of a reward reminded her of an earlier bargain they had made, but Elizabeth loved his change of countenance, which made him appear wonderfully younger and more relaxed. Resolutely, she decided to forget the sad past and play along with his teasing. Raised her eyebrows archly, she stated, “I did not know that you had gone into trade. Still, with an injured ankle, I am at your mercy here, Sir! Pray, name your price.”

  “Very well. I want… an article of your clothing for each turn out of the maze.”

  “Scandalous! That is most ungentlemanly of you. Besides, what will the gardeners say when they find their future mistress, less formally attired than is her custom, emerging from the maze in the arms of their master? And may I remind you that we are outside in the cold autumn weather? What if I should catch a cold?”

  “Gardeners be damned! They had better get used to it, for I intend to explore every maze, bush and pond on Pemberley’s grounds with my wife, come summer. And if you catch a cold, I will lie in bed with you, to warm your whole body… and your heart.”

  Elizabeth’s face turned bright red, thinking back to their two nights together, but she would not allow him to win the argument so easily. “You are determined to keep my articles of clothing as souvenirs? Tell me, how many turns are there before we get out of this bothersome maze? And how would I know you do not detour on purpose? I do not have all that many articles of clothing upon me, today. No, I think we need to discuss another form of reward, lest we scandalise the whole of Pemberley.”

  Darcy swallowed, th
inking about stripping her of all of the items that she wore, one by one. He remembered her gorgeous, naked bosom. How he wished the weather were warmer, and that they were alone in some secluded Eden. But he conceded the reality of their present situation, and so his thoughts whirled until he came up with another, equally satisfying bargain to present to his beloved.

  “Well, it is tiring to carry you around. I deserve to be handsomely rewarded for sustaining such a heavy task. How about … a kiss for every turn of the maze?”

  “Me, heavy! Never!” Elizabeth smacked him lightly on the shoulder. Then she looked at him bravely and said, “But how difficult can a kiss be? Hmmm? I believe, Sir, that we have struck a bargain.”

  He lowered his mouth immediately, ready to reap his reward, but he did not kiss her mouth. Instead, he licked and bit her neck, just where it met her shoulder.

  She gasped and protested, “You said a kiss, sir!”

  Darcy grinned. “I did not specify your lips alone. There are many places on your body which I wish and dare to kiss. And I plan to teach you where each and every one of them is, during the coming days and years we will have together, my dearest, loveliest Elizabeth." His intense declaration caused Elizabeth’s body to flush with heat. He carried her in his arms and walked purposely along the next track before turning right, then stopped, ready to claim his second kiss. “Uhm, where shall I kiss you, this time?”

  Elizabeth’s body trembled with anticipation. “My eyes, sir?”

  “Oh, a kiss for two locations? It bodes well that you are so generous, my love.”

  He lowered his head but, rather than bestowing kisses upon her eyes, he kissed each of her breasts, through the fabric of the thick spencer.

  Elizabeth felt as if her heart were jumping out of her chest. She could feel the warmth from his mouth stimulating her nipples, promising future pleasures. Then, after what seemed like endless minutes, he raised his head and walked on. Only then did she object breathlessly, “You are not doing what you said!”