From Pemberley to Paradise, page 7
Chapter 9
Mr Watford’s estate greeted the Bennets with a blue sky and birds’ chirps; they found a bucolic atmosphere with people working in the fields along the road from St. Albans. Vast and well-kept it showed a diligent master who liked to have control of the works that were done, from the park to the fields he owned all around…and the deep woods that began in the backyard.
The change Mrs Bennet was hoping for, took place. After the first walk in the woods, with Mary in their footsteps as a chaperone, Elizabeth had her natural colours back, the paleness conquered by the fresh air and the excellent company.
Mrs Bennet would have preferred to find a Mrs Watford to have a companion during the lengthy discussions the men had, but in the end, it proved to be an ideal situation as she could arrange the walks in the woods how she wanted. The gentlemen held her in perfect confidence for all the matters regarding the young people. They were invited to pass their mornings in the spacious gazebo while the “children” walked. To keep an eye on them—as Mrs Bennet said with a gracious smile—but most of the time they forgot, deep down in a world of men, sharing their own stories and familiar memories.
“Mary and Elizabeth need long walks in the forest, according to the doctor’s prescription and I hope Mr Archibald will not find it inconvenient to accompany them.”
Young Watford wanted to hide his satisfaction trying not to smile but Mrs Bennet and her long experience saw the signs. He was more than glad to be alone with the two ladies, and he silently thanked Mrs Bennet for her way of arranging things.
“While you, young ladies,” Mrs Bennet said addressing Violet and Jane Watford, “for you I have some other plans!”
Only a day after their arrival, Mrs Bennet managed to fix new rules and make everybody happy in a household that suffered from the lack of a mistress.
Besides being well cared for, Mr Bennet and Mr Watford had the liberty to dispose of their time together while the Watford girls were excited spending their time in St Albans. Deprived of their mother a long time ago, they grew up not knowing the pleasure of choosing a dress or a hat. The old lady that took good care of them—since their mother’s death—was interested in piano lessons and not in the latest fashion.
Mrs Bennet’s plan—even if it looked fabricated—had a sole objective: Mrs Bennet wanted to have an engagement by the end of their stay.
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“We should prepare for another wedding, Mr Bennet!” she said with a happy voice, once alone in their apartment.
“I hope without a fire!” Mr Bennet said in his slightly sardonic way that made Mrs Bennet gently hit him on his arm and say:
“Keep a watch on your tongue, Mr Bennet! Your words might attract misfortune!” And she left the room in haste, to toss the words into the air as if they had not been spoken.
The woodland walks were a brilliant idea, for unlike Longbourn during their long walks Elizabeth, Archibald…and Mary did not meet a single person.
It was the first time in her life when Elizabeth allowed Mrs Bennet to intervene in such a dramatic way in her life. For once she sensed her mother was right: she had to overcome the anguish she had since the fire—to forget that night…and that kiss that tormented her so much as to make her sad and scared.
Educated and respectful, Archibald had a kind of innocence Elizabeth was not used to finding in people. Men around them—real gentlemen or fortune hunters—so often tried to conquer young ladies just for fun, a society game, while Archibald was truthful and dedicated.
Elizabeth liked him, she was even attracted to him as the very moment he was distracted from daily problems he was a wonderful person, the man she wanted in the end. Her decision was made, she would not wait for a blissful love or a flamboyant man but accept Archibald.
They strolled in silence from time to time, just listening to the woodland sounds; he told her about birds, while Elizabeth laughed as she was sure he did not know the birds from the forest but from books found in Oxford’s endless libraries. He was funny and ironic, but most important of all he was a man, not a boy. Not polished like Darcy or the colonel who could conceal their feelings Archibald was an open book, a message clear for everybody around; he wanted to marry.
He accidentally touched her from time to time when walking. It was not the first time when a man used that kind of ruse, but with him, she liked it every time. He gave her a beautiful violet flower and their fingers touched for less than an instant. Then she lost her shawl and he walked all the road back to search and bring it back like a trophy, yet he hesitated to put it on her shoulders and in the end he just handed it to her with a little smile.
“You have a solid education, Miss Elizabeth,” he said with a voice so sincere that Elizabeth blushed with pleasure. Coming from a man like Archibald this was a huge compliment and she realised that in her society she had received only compliments regarding her dress or her piano playing or singing. Even Darcy seldom told her that he admired her love for books or the instruction she had acquired mostly by herself out of her interest for the world. She was curious and perceptive, but nobody told her that…until Archibald. It was certain there would be many things missing from her life but being Archibald’s wife gained her others…
And then she arrived again at her mother’s recurrent theme, the one the Bennet girls had listened to since they approached the age for marriage: “It is important to have a husband with an income, but not less than 2000 a year.” In those times, she and Jane listened to their mother with an ironic attitude considering that only love mattered. She still wanted love to be a part of her future, but she was happy that Archibald’s family would not live only on his parish fees.
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“Papa promised we shall have a party on Friday,” Archibald said, looking at her from the corner of his eye. He liked how the wind coloured her cheeks and the smile on her face. He could not but observe she was so different from the young ladies he used to know. She was intelligent and independent, a partner in discussions and a good friend. Yet, after the fire, she had a look in her eyes that made his heart sad.
“I thought an alumnus from Oxford might not enjoy such a frivolous distraction as a dance!” Elizabeth said, teasing him.
“And you would be wrong, Miss Elizabeth,” he said, “there were all kinds of parties at Oxford; however, the students longed for dances…”
“What parties could you possibly have at Oxford?” she asked full of astonishment. She imagined life in Colleges to be a perpetual quest for knowledge, uninterrupted by frivolous activities.
“May Morning in Magdalen College, for instance, offered a general revelry and festivities but the part we liked most was the all-night ball the night before.”
“Then you are also an accomplished dancer, Mr Archibald!” Elizabeth continued to tease him.
“I am, I hope we shall have the possibility to show you at the party,” he responded and made a large bow as if he was dancing with her and she smiled and responded by lending her hand. He did not touch her but bowed again and then they both laughed, making Mary wonder enough to raise her eyes from the book she was reading.
Chapter 10
The night of the ball—while standing on the terrace, waiting for the guests—Elizabeth admired, once again, the vast garden boarded by the woods she had begun to know. In the distance she could see her father and Mr Watford in the gazebo drinking a glass of wine, so happy to get back in touch after nearly 20 years of interruption.
She liked that moment of the early night when the flowers’ and trees’ smells melt into a perfect symphony, it was so quiet that she could not imagine that only in an hour or so, the music would start and the guests would hurry onto the dance floor.
Torn by the wish of keeping that moment and the anticipation of the party to come she did not hear Archibald approaching. Suddenly she sensed a presence near her, a breath, her whole body tingling. She hoped it was because of the night’s chill, but in truth, it was because of Archibald. She shivered, wondering if he had observed her emotional turmoil. She knew so little about men. They stood still for a long time, enjoying the sensation, long after it was permitted for a man and a woman to stay so close but both of them thought that it was just a matter of time until they would be together.
Elizabeth longed for the sensation the proximity a man gave her; she longed but at the same time she feared. It was unfair yet the man that stood behind her—so close she could feel his breath on her neck—reminded her of another one. She could feel Darcy’s kiss, the incredible pressure of his lips, the way she leaned on him and abandoned her body in his arms, hating she had that experience with Darcy but, secretly, enjoying it. Her intuition told her Darcy, as a man and husband, could have taken her on a fantastic journey unknown to Archibald.
Maybe knowing that secret she would be able to lead Archibald there in the future. But then the man behind her made a move, an imperceptible one. She sensed his breath near her ear, her name mumbling at the border of the words, and the next moment transported her from the ballroom in St Albans to the bedroom at Netherfield.
It took just a moment to remember, lightning engulfing her spirit and her body, thunder opening the past!
She was naked in bed, Darcy’s hands were all over her body, he was conquering her most secret parts, whispering at her ear like a maddening leitmotiv, “Are you sure Elizabeth?” on and on and her answer at the limit of the cry “Yes!” She sensed his hand on her body then the pain. How could that be possible in a dream? She had never dared to venture in that dream further away from the kiss. But the kiss was real and it forced her to enter the memory, not knowing anymore what was real and what was her dream. She felt pain and bliss, she could remember his body, his face just above her, his voice pleading for her to open her eyes and look at him. And again his body naked near hers, on top of hers…that huge shiver that took her by surprise and made her cry in pain and happiness, his hands covering her mouth, his smile and the love in his eyes, “Shush, my beloved, you are going to wake up the house, this time for another kind of fire.”
And Darcy again completed her in a way she could not imagine possible. It was not a dream, it was not likely to be a dream and be so real, so logical, so blissful at the same time. It had happened; she had been with Darcy that night. It was not a dream, but a reality that she forced to transform in a dream. She felt her blood climbing to her face and head and then complete darkness.
She woke up in her room, Mrs Bennet looking at her in a way she never had before, the worry and despair of a mother not knowing what was happening to her child. She was slightly tapping Elizabeth’s hand, her eyes on a stranger who was, most probably, the doctor. Elizabeth wanted to get up, to tell her nothing was wrong with her, or at least it was not a disease. Darcy’s hands on her naked body were real…him gently forcing into her…and she closed her eyes again, incapable of facing her mother.
“I cannot find something wrong with our young lady, please madam do not be worried, it happens, you know at that moment in the month…”
“But it has never happened to her, she was the strongest of all my five daughters, even when I was pregnant with her I did not know, while for all the others I had constant dizziness and nausea and I kept vomiting for weeks.”
At that very moment, Elizabeth stood up in haste and just arrived at the sink, vomiting long and painfully. Her mother helped her to bed while the doctor said almost joyfully, “And we have the explication, the little lady has a stomach problem, she has eaten something she did not like, this explains her fainting and the vomiting. Just make her eat toasted bread with butter and a good old-fashioned tea and tomorrow she will be on her feet again.”
Mrs Bennet came back to the room soon after the doctor’s departure with the same worried face. She stood by the bed, hardly spoking, somewhat encouraged by the doctor’s words.
“I need to go home, Mama!” Elizabeth said. She felt surprisingly well and lay on the bed looking at her mother, who just nodded. “I have a letter from Jane, Mama…”
“Yes, yes, my dear, I know, they are back from Bath, to their place in London and coming to Netherfield, most probably they have already arrived…yes, you are right we have to go home. Staying with Jane a few days might be good for you!”
Mrs Bennet for once had doubts, maybe she had decided for Elizabeth to meet the young Archibald too soon, or the woods had not been such a good idea.
“Where is everybody? Elizabeth asked, scared by the thought that the guests already knew her story. “Is the party cancelled?”
“No, of course not, Mr Archibald is saddened by your illness, but the last time I saw him he was dancing with Mary or another girl…Can you imagine I do not know for sure? So worried I am about you.”
“Do not be, Mama, please, I shall be fine, I promise, but I must go to Jane, to Netherfield. Please, for once, just do what I am asking you!”
Mrs Bennet did not understand, but she wanted so much for Elizabeth not to be ill that she was ready to do anything just to please her.
“We shall depart as soon as possible. But…” her mother hesitated, “what is going to happen with Mr Watford?”
Elizabeth wanted to know that answer for herself. In fact, she knew the answer, as sad as it was: she could not possibly go on with Archibald before speaking to Darcy. Tempted for an instant not to say anything to Archibald and just go on and continue their relationship, she knew she could not begin a marriage with a lie. Most probably, the dream was not a dream but reality. A frightening reality where she had been Darcy’s woman and by her own free will…and desire. Maybe it had been the smoke’s effect or the Laudanum’s but what she could not conceal was her desire and her state of bliss. She was ashamed with every fibre of her body, but at the same time, she longed for that incredible sensation.
“Mother, I fainted because I remembered something from the night of the fire. Before I continue with Archibald, I need to speak to Mr Darcy.” Her mother’s amazement was so great that Elizabeth feared she would faint herself. Mrs Bennet was strong enough, but she wanted to know more, “Did you do anything improper with Mr Archibald?”
Elizabeth blushed but also smiled as Mrs Bennet was asking her about a kiss or a virginal hand touch when she had been in bed with Darcy.
“No, mother, no! I did not promise him anything, either.”
“But…Mr Darcy?” her mother asked her after a long while.
She did not have the courage to ask Elizabeth more about Mr Darcy.
“Do you…at least like him?”
“Yes, I do!”
Elizabeth decided her mother knew enough, she just wanted to be sure Mrs Bennet would support her in any circumstances in future.
She needed to see Mr Darcy, it was so evident, and until then she had not the liberty to be involved with another man.
“He is a real gentleman and…he also has a substantial income…” Elizabeth said... but her mother’s reply was so different from what she used to say, “Leave the income aside, Elizabeth Bennet! Do you like him, can you imagine living with him? Marriage is not a trip to Bath…there are things you hardly imagine now and it is better to like the man you marry.”
It was a peculiar statement for Mrs Bennet, who all her life had judged people on their incomes and estates yet, for Elizabeth, she wanted love.
“I do not love him the way I could love Archibald but…”
She could not continue as again Darcy’s hands were on her body, she did not understand how it was possible not to feel love but to feel, instead…desire.
“…But I like him in some ways! Mama, I promise you I shall marry…Darcy or Archibald, I do not know now, but I promise nothing will happen and by autumn I shall be a wife.”
That news could calm her mother. Coming for the daughter she trusted more, it was a truth she could believe in. She needed that statement, even if it should prove to be a lie, to encourage her mother to be on her side.
“This is not a game, Elizabeth; sometimes I fear your intelligence and courage, they make you act too bold. Just do what you need to do…as for the marriage, I am sure you will make a decision you will not regret.”
Again Elizabeth was not sure. She could have married Darcy, but she declined his proposal…in such a horrible way. It was a memory she wanted to forget, yet what happened between her and Darcy she could not understand. Was it still love from his side or a kind of revenge? But she dismissed that thought in haste, for more than once during that night he whispered he loved her. It was not a furious act but a loving one. He was tender and attentive and guided her with a firm hand to bliss. The intensity of their action exploded in oblivion, the enormity of their night together made her forget it, transform it into a dream, but she needed to see that room to be absolutely sure. She still had some doubts, or maybe she just wished that night not to be real.
“I need to go to Netherfield as soon as possible.”
Chapter 11
They arrived at Netherfield happy to see Jane after almost two months of absence. And indeed the young lady who welcomed them on the steps of the mansion was a happy woman. She was resplendent.
“Did you put on weight?” Mrs Bennet asked, smiling at her eldest daughter.
“Maybe, a little!” Jane answered, embracing her sisters and mother.
“Papa,” she said as soon as the greetings were over, “Charles is with the architect, he is asking you to go and help him.”
Mr Bennet smiled; his ladies wanted to be alone. His skills in rebuilding were minimal but then neither did Charles seem to have exceptional talents in that direction. Indeed his son-in-law received him with a happy smile and a relieved face while the ladies went into a little parlour, far away from the one destroyed by the fire, to share the latest news.
