His response to her action had overwhelmed his attention to their conversation, and it was only with effort that he was able to recollect what she had been saying. “I admit that worrying is one of my failings. Does it come as a surprise to you, then?” He congratulated himself on having constructed an articulate sentence under these circumstances.
A smile crossed her lips. “I confess that I was beginning to catch an intimation of it, sir.” Ironically, she was at that point doing an excellent job of worrying herself, wondering what capricious impulse had prompted her to lay her head against him, at a time when she knew full well that she should be avoiding even the appearance of encouraging him. How could she blame him for presuming too much when she persisted in behaving as if she wished for and encouraged his advances? He had caught her off-guard by expressing his insecurities about his behavior, so different from his usual aggravating high-handedness, but there was no excuse for her improper behavior.
It was past time for her to admit that her physical reaction to Darcy’s company had gone beyond her control, a thought that both frightened and appalled her, since it went against her longstanding belief in her own ability to restrain herself. Yet it could not be denied; so small a cause as his caresses of her palm created such an ache inside her that she knew that, were he to try to kiss her again, she would put up no resistance, and would against her will welcome his touch. The realization that she was at risk of permitting sufficient liberties to feel obliged to marry was sufficiently alarming to override the temptation to continue to enjoy his attentions.
Without any outward sign of her distress, Elizabeth suggested it was time for them to return to Netherfield, and Darcy, though quite reluctant to end the enchanting interlude, managed to agree in an appropriately gentlemanly manner so as to allow them to begin the walk back in a harmonious manner that they managed to maintain until reaching their destination.
At Netherfield, Elizabeth expressed a desire to enquire after Georgiana’s health before her departure for Longbourn, a request to which Darcy readily acceded, as he was happy for any excuse to prolong their contact. The patient turned out to have improved substantially in their absence, and was in fact out of bed and enjoying the sunlight through the sitting room window. Darcy warmly expressed his pleasure in her recovery, a sentiment that Elizabeth echoed with a bit more reservation, her suspicions being raised that Georgiana’s illness might have been a ruse to put her brother and her friend alone together for an extended period of time.
“Georgiana, Miss Bennet revealed a most interesting piece of news to me today. It turns out that her forthcoming travels will be taking her to Derbyshire, and that she will be spending some time in Lambton,” said Darcy.
“Really?” cried Georgiana, her eyes alight with enthusiasm. “You must come to Pemberley, then! I would much prefer to go to Pemberley than London; we have not been there since December. Could we not do that, William?”
“If that is your wish, we certainly may; I had not made a decision between Pemberley and London as yet, and we had originally planned to journey thither later this summer,” Darcy said indulgently.
Elizabeth eyed him with amusement, thinking how neatly he had put that decision on his sister, knowing full well what she would suggest. She had known the subject of Derbyshire would not be dropped so easily as it had been on their walk, but she had not been expecting an ambush on the subject quite so quickly. “I must urge you not to base your plans on mine; I will be at the disposal of my aunt and uncle during our tour, and they have a busy itinerary planned already.”
“Oh, but Pemberley would be an excellent location from which to visit so many of the sights of Derbyshire! Please, you must allow us to invite your aunt and uncle; I would so love to have you at Pemberley,” said Georgiana.
This was rather stronger than Elizabeth had expected; she had thought they would be invited to call at Pemberley, not to stay there. She suspected that Georgiana did not understand about her connections—Darcy himself had learned to be polite to her family, but having some of them to stay at Pemberley was likely to be a different question. “Your invitation is very gracious, and I would certainly be delighted if the opportunity arose to see you while I was in Lambton, but I must insist that I have no say over the planning of our journey.”
Georgiana, however, was not to be easily dismissed, and pleaded with Elizabeth to consider the possibility until Darcy, who had managed to stay out of the discussion, rescued her by offering to drive her home.
They set off in their usual manner, and as they drove off Elizabeth, following their ritual, slipped her hand into his. Darcy looked down at her with a smile that warmed his features becomingly. “Do you have any idea how much pleasure you give me by doing that?” he asked quietly.
Elizabeth, who had much rather not hear about it at all, especially when her insides seemed to give a very peculiar lurch at his words, tried to avoid serious discussion by responding playfully, “Hopefully enough to compensate for a small fraction of the trouble I cause you!”
He looked at her seriously. “I would not wish to be anyplace else.”
Her cheeks warm, Elizabeth dropped her eyes. “Mr. Darcy, I would prefer not to enter into this discussion at this point,” she said in a voice barely above a whisper.
“As you wish, then,” he said, as neutrally as he could. He wondered if she had any idea what this was like for him, waiting for days for nothing more than the chance of a few hours with her, and then only a little time alone. How was he to stay sane when he was forced to hope for her to allow him to hold her hand, when what he wanted was to take her in his arms and kiss her in such a way that would brand her forever his—what it was like to love her so desperately, to dream each night of taking her in his bed, and to need her affection and approval so badly, yet to receive only ambiguous signals regarding her feelings about his attentions. She had taught him the hard way about humility, and, by God, now she was doing the same thing with patience, and he hated this lesson just as much as the one before it.
Perhaps this was becoming too intense. Perhaps he needed to remember he had other responsibilities in life besides wooing Elizabeth Bennet. A little perspective might help him through this. If she held to her usual pattern, it would be two, or more likely three days until he saw her again. Perhaps a night or two in London was what he needed. Certainly he had enough business piling up there that required his attention. And then, if he could get her to Pemberley, even for only a few days, where he could see her every day, every morning over breakfast, every evening, where he could take her for walks through the gardens and the park, without having to worry about what her parents would think, or who would see them… If you do not stop thinking this way instantly, he told himself sternly, you will end up doing something rash that you are certain to regret later. Think about London. Think about anything else at all.
Elizabeth had noted his withdrawal following their earlier conversation. She was initially glad he had heeded her request to discontinue the discussion, but was now less happy with the result, as his behavior was no longer what she expected under these circumstances. They never spoke much on these rides, but he had always used this brief time alone to look at her with a warmth that was hidden at other times, and to take every possible advantage in caressing her hand. Now he seemed more withdrawn, but perhaps that was only because they had already had a great deal of time together that day. She was beginning to have enough of a sense of him, though, to suspect that this was not the case, and she wondered what the cause might be.