From Pemberley to Paradise, page 4
It was such a considerate thought that Elizabeth silently thanked him.
Finally, Darcy opened the door of a room, far away from the one she had just left.
“There is no danger for the fire to recommence but, anyway, here you are as far from that damned parlour as possible! It is my room!”
Astonished, Elizabeth wondered how that night had diminished, for a few hours, the prejudices and customs of the society they were living in. They were just human beings helping one another, sharing simple, relaxed and natural relationships, one could give a hand to a person in need and receive help.
“I shall need my things from the room,” she said, but she hardly was capable of going there alone. The room was not touched by the fire, yet a heavy smell persisted and ashes were all over the place as Elizabeth had been sleeping with open windows.
As he watched her taking her things from the chiffonier, he had a strange sensation of happiness, which was unreasonable viewing the destruction that took place only a short hour before. However, it was justifiable because he liked being in her company and more…he adored her…needing him.
He took the little bag from her hand, and she smiled again but once in her room—that was his— she had a moment of hesitation. A strange tremor enclosed her body while she could also feel his emotion. All the barriers between them were gone; they could be just two friends immensely enjoying being together, grateful that night did not end in tragedy. Reality did not matter anymore, the fear wholly transformed into a sensation of peace.
“Do not go, please!” she said and wondered at her own boldness.
“Are you afraid of being alone?” Darcy asked, looking at her. He lifted the candle to see her face and eyes. Her answer was there; she was not afraid, but she wanted that moment to last. He put down the luggage and the candle, and he took her into his arms.
“I shall sleep on the sofa,” he whispered in her ear, making her shiver while the last thing Elizabeth remembered before falling asleep was his lips touching hers.
The next clear image—yet so unusual—was her father sitting next to her bed watching her. It was morning.
Chapter 4
Elizabeth was one of the last to go down for breakfast. To her surprise she found Mrs Bennet in the dining room, acting as mistress of the house, giving orders to the servants. Aunt Gardiner was also in the room ready to help and assist the people still shocked by last night’s misfortune. Even Caroline and Louisa were silent, hardly eating, with huge circles around their eyes. Received with warm smiles and exclamations, she smiled as Georgina ran to embrace her with a sweet childish attitude. She looked for Jane, who was slowly coming towards them. She took Elizabeth in her arms—a gesture so unusual for their relationship as, in the past, it was always Elizabeth protecting Jane.
They were still appalled by the last night’s events, yet a friendly atmosphere persisted among them.
Elizabeth woke up in a world that seemed upside down, finding her father near the bed was the first shock. His worried face when looking at her made the memories come back. The fire was real, but that ballroom was nothing but a dream.
Seated across the table, Mr Watford made her blush with violence, remembering the whole dream. She had to sit as a sudden weakness invaded her body; she was so dizzy she could hardly keep from fainting as she sat on a chair. Since the time of the fire, she had difficulties in separating reality from dreams and then from nightmares. It was a disturbing sensation of floating amid events she could not control. Elizabeth had always been so proud of her rationality and composure, but the fire had played a weird trick on her, destroying those qualities she considered essential.
“Are you hurt, my dear?” Mrs Bennet asked with scrutinising eyes, obviously worried by the way Elizabeth behaved.
Elizabeth shook her head, “No, Mama! I am just exhausted. What are you doing here, Mama?”
He mother sat near her and put a slice of bread and one of meat on her plate, inviting her to eat. However, Elizabeth was not hungry. She looked from her mother to her sister, there were so many changes that morning that she could hardly understand.
“What is happening here?” she asked, and it was impossible not to see her disorientation.
Jane smiled and caressed her hand, frightened by Elizabeth’s state of mind, just wanting to reassure her she was out of danger.
“Mama and Papa heard about the fire and early in the morning they came, along with Aunt and Uncle Gardiner, to see what happened,” she said. “They found a disastrous situation, the guests had to wash and eat…we had to decide further …” Tears were pouring down her face, but she did not change her expression, she was like a marble statue crying.
Mrs Bennet gave her a handkerchief and ordered like a general, “Stop crying, girl; Mr Bingley promised you that the wedding would take place!”
She was more worried about Elizabeth’s health than Jane’s wedding, which was rather strange as the wedding was the most desired event of her life. But Elizabeth was acting strangely; she looked pale and ill, and she almost fainted when she entered the room. Mrs Bennet spoke in a gentle and loving voice while she caressed Elizabeth’s hand, “We were so scared, my dearest, a servant came in the morning, sent by Mr Bingley, to tell us what happened. We could not stay home one more minute. We came to find this place in a state of disorder hard to imagine, only Colonel Fitzwilliam was trying to reinstate some order. He asked us to help.”
Elizabeth imagined it was precisely what her mother dreamt of doing in her future son-in-law’s house. But then she was sorry for her mean thought. Her parents were always so kind, always thinking about their five daughters. Her mother’s contribution was essential as the servants were ready again to perform their duties and the house seemed to be in a sort of order.
“Where is Charles?” Elizabeth asked Jane when she just wanted to ask where Mr Darcy was.
“Charles and the colonel are making a tour of the house and Mr Darcy departed for London, some hours ago.”
She did not dare to look at Jane, wondering if her interest in Mr Darcy was evident or Jane just gave her information about the main characters of the past night’s misadventure.
The news of Mr Darcy’s departure brought both relief and pain. She remembered the kiss. That kiss was not a mistake but an instant during a difficult night of powerful emotions and unusual closeness that had nothing to do with the daylight. But at the same time, she was disappointed not to find him this morning.
“Why did he go to London?” she asked, trying to maintain a casual tone, so as not to let anyone—not even Jane, see her true feelings and constant turmoil.
“My dear, I almost forget, he gave me a message for you, I am so sorry, he asked me to send it to your room but with all that happened…”
Again Elizabeth wished her sister could not read the emotion that overwhelmed her. She took the letter, grateful Jane was so distracted, and read:
Dear Elizabeth,
My sentiments for you are the same and so is my proposal. I hope against all hopes that last night meant a change in your feelings. But I bend to your decision, whatever that might be!”
Yours truthfully.
Fitzwilliam Darcy
She wanted to hide the letter and then throw it away. She was furious at his departure while she understood why he left in such haste. One moment she missed him and the next she wanted to dismiss him. She was living a confusion never felt before. Nothing really happened between them; they kissed after such a dramatic situation that it could not be a proof of her sentiments, only her joy of being unharmed and tired after a dramatic night. Why did he consider that kiss to be a change in her attitude or sentiments?
She could hardly wait to arrive home, answer his message and assure him that nothing had changed and that she wished he could forget last night. As she wanted to forget, to regain her calm and go on with her life.
All the people at the table turned to Mr Bingley as he entered the room accompanied by Mr Bennet and Mr Gardiner. They looked calm, almost detached from last night’s events. However, the Charles who entered the dining room, was different from the man who, only last night, was laughing joyfully probably imagining his life with Jane like an eternal paradise. The fire and the danger had an irreversible influence on him; they obliged him to see life as it was, maybe for the first time in his life.
In many ways—Elizabeth thought—Charles had grown-up, he became an adult.
Jane flew near him and they held hands before everybody. It was clear they were together—man and wife—meant to be.
But then Elizabeth looked at her beloved sister and she could see a subtle change had taken place also in Jane. She was a woman near her man. Elizabeth remembered that moment, in the hall, just before entering Darcy’s room when he did not let her go to speak to Jane and Charles. They were in front of the master’s bedroom door and…they stepped in together. Elizabeth violently blushed, making her mother worry again but it was not the fear of the last night but the revelation that Jane was a woman.
“What is happening to you, dear?” Mrs Bennet asked while Elizabeth tapped her hand, asking her to be silent as Charles was speaking:
“My dears, I cannot tell you how sorry I am for the last night incident. I was completely devastated, but this morning my dear friends Darcy and the colonel obliged me to forget my concern and anxieties and find a solution. Then Darcy gave me a splendid idea while my future father-in-law and Mr Gardiner endorsed it with all their hearts. I promised this wonderful and courageous lady I shall marry her next week and it is what I intend to do!”
Astonishment took the place of the sadness that had dominated the room from the first hours of the morning. Around the table, people were looking at each other; suddenly someone clapped his hands and all the others followed. These were the words they needed to hear.
Charles smiled and kissed Jane’s hand, and although the tears kept streaming down her porcelain face, she was no longer desperate. Indeed, if it were possible she was even more in love with her future husband than a second before.
“We shall hold the marriage ceremony in London!”
A murmur passed through the entire room—it was hope. Some of them smiled, other wanted to know more. That brilliant idea made the last night destruction and distress a bad memory that could not influence the future.
“Darcy left early this morning for London to make the preparations, he will inform our vicar about the ceremony—our houses are in the same parish—and decide about the reception. I am sure you are ready to depart for London. We shall have numerous houses at our disposal, mine, Darcy’s, Caroline’s…
“And ours,” said Mrs Gardiner with a smile on her face.
“Yes, thank you, Mrs Gardiner! In just one minute we shall discuss with Louisa and Georgina how we intend to host you, and in two hours the carriages will be here to take you to London. We shall use today to rest, but the next evening I propose you meet and party just one more time before the wedding!”
The gathering wholeheartedly applauded Charles; while in a corner, the colonel just smiled at the new state of mind that dominated a room that only minutes ago was deeply distressed.
The colonel approached Elizabeth, looking at her with a kind and friendly face, tired but smiling. He kissed her hand and sat near her, “I need to eat something, I am starving,” he said and Mrs Bennet—just as she did in her household—clapped the hands and a maid appeared to serve the colonel.
As he ate in silence, Elizabeth wondered if he ever slept that night; he was hungry, but surprisingly in shape for a man who had mastered yesterday’s fire with tactics borrowed from the battlefield. Colonel Fitzwilliam was a force of nature!
They had shared such an excellent relationship in the past, no angry words or frustrations like she had with Darcy. She wondered why she did not ever consider him as a potential husband. He had so many good qualities. She tried to imagine herself at his side, but all she achieved was thinking—You are mad Elizabeth Bennet! What is wrong with you finding a husband in every man around?
All her body was in pain. She remembered the heavy buckets that in regular times she could not lift from the ground yet last night they seemed to be toys.
She tried remembering the fire, the destruction, every step she made on the lawn, but in the end, she had to admit those memories were meant to chase away the kiss and the dream she had after that kiss—so similar to the one she had before the fire, so improper for a young lady. She was ashamed and wondered how it was possible to wish for something she did not entirely understand.
The colonel touched her elbow. He was eating and speaking with everybody around, not attentive to anyone in particular yet that accidental touch triggered a splendid sensation in her. Suddenly she could imagine a life with the man near her, his powerful arms around her...I have to stop—she thought while the colonel looked at her.
“Come, Miss Elizabeth,” he said in his powerful yet gentle voice, “I received orders from your mother to take you and your sister home and then come back…under her command!”
Chapter 5
The two sisters were in the carriage again, but what a difference from yesterday’s ride to Netherfield. They did not speak; for once Jane was holding Elizabeth in her arms. The colonel was riding alongside the carriage; however the silence was not because of him, they only wished to forget and be ready for the wedding.
As in childhood, they got into the bed hiding under the blanket, in the familiar and safe place where they could finally talk.
“I…I am married!” Jane cried making Elizabeth almost jump from the bed, they forgot about the blanket and stood still leaning on the bed headboard, hand in hand. They did not look at each other, but it was so important to be together in such a delicate moment. Yesterday her sister was a timid girl incapable of speaking about her first experiences of love and today she was a woman and she wanted to share everything.
“How, why…” Elizabeth, for once was searching for words, remembering Jane and Charles the instant they entered his room.
“How?” laughed her sister. “Very simple, I did not imagine that it was so simple, so wonderful, so magnificent…so everything! We heard only lies about that from women who did not understand or accept pleasure. As for ‘why’ it is so simple—we were terrified we could lose each other and not be together. It was so intense that nothing else mattered. I wanted him and also I felt how much Charles wanted me. If I do not marry Charles next week…”
“Do not speak nonsense, Jane Bennet!” Elizabeth interrupted her, but Jane made a gesture with her hand, one her sister remembered from their childhood, it was the way a shy girl asked to speak.
“I understood last night how fragile we are…at any minute something might happen. I am now the woman of the man I love and always will and I hope he will be my husband soon!”
“He will, my sweet, sweet sister, he will!”
They hugged rocking and comforting each other.
“Did it…hurt?” hesitantly asked Elizabeth.
But Jane laughed with all her heart.
“Yes!...No! It was beyond pain, a splendid sensation. It did not matter that it hurt in the beginning. My body was ready for him; it is such a crime not to let every woman know that pleasure. We are taught it is some sort of sin when it is a blissful state. I cannot stand not to have Charles near me.”
“And?” asked Elizabeth still wanting to discover all that happened but at the same time fearing to know all the truth.
“And…he taught me all that was necessary and then I knew how to do it…!”
They sat in silence for a long time, then Jane spoke again.
“You know what convinced me—even before the fire—to go into his room?” She did not wait for an answer, continuing, “Charles told me the sad story of Marchioness Alexandra living near Mr Darcy, the one who lost her husband during their honeymoon.”
My rival—Elizabeth thought, but the next second she scolded that inner voice that spoke nonsense, Mr Darcy was a stranger to her and she intended to keep him that way. If he found happiness, she could only be happy for him.
“What a sad story, indeed! But I wonder why Charles told you such a story before your wedding.”
“You see? This is exactly the question I was wondering about…and when the fire started, suddenly it seemed to me that his story was perhaps a premonition of a tragedy to come!”
“Stop!” Elizabeth said and she put her hand over her sister’s mouth. “You are forbidden from now on to imagine such tragedies! Let’s find Mary and Kitty and prepare for London and the wedding.”
“Wait!” Jane said. “Just a little longer for the two us; tell me quickly if you had the chance to speak to Mr Darcy.”
Elizabeth was so happy her sister could not understand her violently blushing; she had the urge to hide her cheeks, but she resisted, hoping it would pass away unnoticed. It was not only her face that reddened, but she felt her whole body burst into flames.
“I did not, you remember he was not present at the dinner and then…”
“I remember, it was he who saved you and I supposed you had the time afterwards.” But then Jane remembered the chaos and disorientation of the people involved in the fire and understood there was not time for leisurely discussions.
“You did not have the time, of course! Poor you, it must have been awful nearly trapped in that room. I wanted to go up myself, but Charles stopped me at the very moment Mr Darcy arrived searching for you. He was shouting your name like a madman…That man loves you, Elizabeth!”
Jane said no more, no matter what she wanted to add it was not for her to decide what Elizabeth intended to do. She knew that her sister was wise enough to manage her life thoughtfully. She wanted her to be married. Among their acquaintance, there were some men interested in her…but it was for her to choose. There was Mr Darcy, by far the most suited for her but unfortunately, she did not like him as a man; then the colonel, she had seen him in the morning sitting near her sister at breakfast. He seemed interested in his meal…when, in fact, he looked so often at her. But then the colonel needed a wealthy woman to marry being the second son…What a waste—Jane thought. And then even Mr Watford, a fine gentleman from a very respectable family. They had already met him in the past but hardly had spoken while last evening Elizabeth spent almost all the time after dinner in his company, making Caroline again show her well-known wickedness towards Elizabeth.
