Jump to new as of February 20, 1999
Jump to new as of February 24, 1999
Posted on Sunday, 29-Nov-98
"Oh, Fitzwilliam, where are you?" Whined Elizabeth, placing her head on the pillow. She was tossing in her bed for more than two hours. Morpheus didn't want to come. She was lying on her back, staring into the ceiling. Her bed seemed as uncomfortable and cold as never before, and she could not help it. About an hour earlier, she crawled out of bed and searched for another blanket, but it didn't help. She hid her head under the pillow and rubbed her face against the sheet. No change, her body wanted no rest. Her brain was calling for sleep. She wanted to sleep through the hours and forget, but in vain. She kept awake. If I get out of bed and cool off, so that my feet begin to freeze, I'll wrap in the sheets and fall asleep, she thought.
The house was silent. She went to the window and stared into the night. It was beautiful and starry. "Where are you Fitzwilliam Darcy? Why did you go away?" she whispered, breathed heavily and then scolded herself: "Stop thinking about it. Get on with your life." But she could not. He was in her thoughts, most inner and most private, intimate, she'd call them. She didn't even tell Jane about them, but she wondered how it would be if she found herself in Fitzwilliam's arms. Yes, in her thoughts, when she was alone, she called him Fitzwilliam. He wasn't Mr. Darcy or Fitzwilliam Darcy. He was Fitzwilliam or William. She closed her eyes and shivered. She imagined him approaching her from behind. Encircling her with his arms and placing a kiss on her neck, and her cheek, and murmuring: "My darling wife, come to me." But it was so impossible, now. He was away from her and he... No, she couldn't bear thinking about it. It was cold, her feet freezing, her arms clutched around her chest. She ran towards her bed. And wrapped herself in the sheets. The warmth of the bed made her eyes close slowly. She was drifting into land of sleep.
She tossed in bed. "Fitzwilliam, come, please." She was running after him. She was in a forest. It looked strange and then she realised she was being chased. She turned back. It was a huge cat, like the one Lady Catherine used to have at Rosings, but this one was even bigger. It was red-haired and ...there was something scary about it. She ran even faster. "Fitzwilliam." Suddenly, she found herself in a hall of a great house. It looked familiar. It was Pemberley. She ran across the hall and ... there he was. With his arms open, he was there to protect her from all the evil, and just as she was approaching him... she was sitting in her bed, at Longbourn and he was not with her... he was away... somewhere in London or on his way to Kent. He would never come back to her. Now that she has finally realised that she loved him like she loved no one on this world, he left for good and would not come back, not after what Lady Catherine had told him today. Now, he would not be back to disgrace himself by proposing for the second time.
Part II
Her head was so heavy, she could barely lift it up. The past three nights, she slept terribly. The same dream had been repeating itself. The big cat of Lady Catherine's chased her and just as she was to be saved by Fitzwilliam, by his arms, she woke up, cold and... alone. Every morning, going to breakfast, she half expected to hear Mr. Bingley say: "My friend Darcy apologizes, but he will not be coming back to Netherfield. Urgent business regretfully keeps him in London." But Bingley never said it, every day he readily assured that his friend sent him no word and is to come back as planned. Elizabeth didn't know what to think. She didn't want to live hoping and wishfully thinking. If he was not to come back, it would be better if he declared it openly and crushed all her hopes. Right now, she was dying for him, her soul her body, all of her. Why couldn't she just go to him and throw herself into his arms?
She was sitting on her bed. The day seemed to be lovely. It was her soul that wasn't happy. She closed her eyes, hid her face in her hands and then sprung out of bed, straight to the cold water she had in the bowl. She splashed it over her face. "A few more nights like that and I shall suffer from nerves." She imitated her mother.
Putting on her gown, she reflected on her fantasies about Fitzwilliam Darcy. He was strong, masculine, but also tender and... how he would kiss her... She looked out of the window... Were her eyes deceiving her? It was impossible... It was impossible for him... for him to be here... to come with Bingley... Maybe, maybe... maybe he did come back for her... maybe he loved her... maybe he would do what few men would do and ... and propose to the same woman for the second time.
She ran downstairs, light as she was never before.
Part III
Having noticed Darcy's silhouette approaching the house, Elizabeth grabbed her gown and hastily put it on. There was no time to call for Sarah, the maid. Anyway, who would care about the stays when Fitzwilliam Darcy was at the door. Having buttoned her dress, she looked in the mirror. Her hair was a mess and she had only five minutes to put it in order. Three strong pulls of her brush, a second of hesitation on what to do with it and she was busy knotting her curls at the back. One last glance at her reflection in the mirror and she was flying down the stairs. Down the corridor, she ran. He is here! He is here! sang in her head. One, two, three, one, two, three. Elizabeth ran down the stairs. Before the last turn, she stopped, breathed heavily, put a serene expression on her face and graciously went down, minding to show herself in the best of views. She concentrated on the steps she made, not paying attention to the rest of the surroundings. That proved... well...
She could not have known that Hill's tabby cat had a male visitor as well. Hill, who was very fond of her 'little girl', as she called the tabby, was chasing a huge tom, which had some definite plans concerning the tabby. The tom scampered out of broom range on the polished floor across the front of the staircase just as Elizabeth came down and was opening her mouth to greet both gentlemen. She did not see the cat, and her shoes connected with the tom's nether regions, causing him to yowl in agony and injured dignity. Darcy and Bingley gasped in male solidarity with the tom's predicament, and Elizabeth, confused, blushing and uncertain, lost her footing, falling into the surprised arms of Fitzwilliam Darcy.
Like in a dream, or rather unlike it, Darcy's arms saved her from a fateful rendez-vous with the floor. She imagined him kissing her hands - right now - the insides of her wrists and her arms, her neck, her face, holding her tight -oh God, I'm thinking about such things, even now, I'm sick, my mind is sick! - she cried silently - especially now whispered an inner voice, especially now, that he is holding you in his arms.
Lizzy's sensation of lightness, softness and her faint perfume mixed with his scent. Elizabeth pressed against him as she struggled to regain her balance. Her curls - knotted in haste - refused to hold to the ribbons and going loose, brushed his face. His hands on her waist made her shiver. Realising she had nothing under the top of her dress, knowing his hands were in fact touching her almost bare skin (ah! what is a dress of lightest cotton!), feeling his breath on her neck, she had to break free from his embrace in order not to untie his scarf and insinuate her hand under his shirt or pull his lips to hers.
"Pray...pray excuse me, sir." She began trying to sound as composed as possible. If only she could throw her arms around him! "Please excuse me. I need to..., I need... to go...to retie my ribbons! She sprang out as if she were a tabby chased by a tom.
Part IV
Calm yourself, girl. Calm yourself girl, repeated she as Bingley and Darcy came into the drawing room. She could hardly venture a glance at the man; she wouldn't mind staring him, if he only could not see her--he could see her though. But then she would have to know what his feelings towards her were, and because she didn't know what they were, it was better if he didn't stare, and if so, she couldn't stare either, and that meant... at that moment she heard Bingley propose a walk.
She was at a loss. There was no way she could avoid it and at the same time if she managed to do it somehow, she would be mad that she allowed Darcy go. If she went, she would be ashamed of her previous behaviour in front of Darcy, if she stayed, she would be sorry she was not with him. It was a viscous circle! Fortunately Kitty declared her willingness to accompany her two sisters.
As soon as the gates of Longbourn were passed, Jane and Bingley disappeared to occupy themselves with what soon-to-be-married usually do. Elizabeth was left with Darcy and Kitty. She couldn't determine whether she preferred her sister to be gone or where she was. If Kitty stayed, Darcy would say nothing, show no emotions or betray his thoughts, and then she wouldn't know if he still cared about her, well, even with Kitty gone, he could still say nothing, and she would be even more devastated because he didn't care for her... it was getting mad.
"Oh look," said Kitty. "There is Hill's tabby up there in that tree."
"And there is Morris." Added Elizabeth, pointing to the ginger tom, slowly heading toward the tree, eyes on the tabby.
"Let me get her down." Offered Darcy gallantly.
"I think it better if I do, sir." Why must it be a 'sir'? whined Elizabeth but continued: "She knows me, and will most likely let me take her down with no protest."
As she was approaching the tree, she thought: Oh, what possessed me to say it! What will he think of me now? That's so unlady-like to be climbing up the trees. But it was too late. Oh, God, he is looking at my calves! she almost screamed. Elizabeth was so tormented by that thought that she failed to hold the cat, and it tumbled from her grasp, claws extended, right into Darcy's lap.
Elizabeth gasped and put her hand to her mouth, partly in horror, partly in amusement. Not only did the tom miaow at Darcy's predicament, but she thought that Darcy got what he deserved for looking where he should not.
Kitty too was concerned. "You should take care that you don't get an inflammation there Mr. Darcy. That could be serious indeed."
"You look pained Mr. Darcy. Is there anything I can do for your present relief?" called Elizabeth, Say 'yes', she begged silently, let me touch you. Give me a pretence to do so! Please!
Under his breath Darcy replied, "Not until we are married, My Dear!"
"I beg your pardon sir, I did not quite hear that," said Elizabeth, convinced that she didn't hear him because she was concentrating on the possibility of touching him..
"Er, I think we have tarried too long, I fear. See, Jane and Bingley are almost a furlong hence."
"Ooh look at Morris and Hill's tabby!" cried Kitty.
There was Morris approaching the tabby from behind. This time, he was very slow, very cautious, step by step. She was again looking at him over her shoulder, making a little growling sound. Slowly, slowly Morris lifted his forepaw and touched her back, she didn't move.
Elizabeth looked at the tom with fascination, letting her thoughts and fantasy flow. If Fitzwilliam Darcy was that cat, she thought, I wouldn't mind being the tabby. she blushed and gave herself a reprimand: STOP IT, LIZZY!!!
At that moment Darcy cleared his throat. "I don't think he means her any harm, he seems to be quite gentlemanlike. I suggest we go on our way."
With that he rose, and they all continued toward Meryton. Elizabeth kept silent. She was rethinking the situation that took place just minutes ago. She just had to, she just had to speak to him and if it was necessary, she would get desperate, so desperate that she would throw herself into his arms. No, that she would do not! I curse the person who invented social barriers! she squeaked in her mind.
She would give everything... well maybe not everything, but surely a lot to know what Darcy was now thinking about. If I were him and would still care, I would ... I would... assault the girl, well not in a physical way, but I would wash her with my affection, would repeat that I love her and would look at her constantly, and he...he... he doesn't even look at me. I must give up all the hope. He doesn't care about me. I must go on with my life. Oh Fitzwilliam, you could have had me... Such thoughts were interrupted by Kitty's voice addressing her sister.
Chapter V
"Lizzy would you mind if I went to call on Maria Lucas?" asked Kitty.
Elizabeth stole a quick glance at Darcy. He was walking on as if he did not notice that Kitty spoke. She quickly nodded to her sister and returned to observe Darcy. He looked as if his mind was in turmoil, as if he did not know what to do next. Oh just come and kiss me! she whined silently. Her consciousness of the world was collapsing to the little part of Hertfordshire in a one foot radius from Fitzwilliam Darcy, a man who drove her senses apart.
"Are you all right? She asked hesitantly, trying to put her thoughts aside.
He suddenly came back to reality. Kitty was disappearing down a side lane.
"Yes. Yes. I am fine."
"You must think me a selfish creature..." she began. He looked at her strangely. She went on telling him how grateful she was to him and how indebted her family was to him. In her thoughts she prayed that he would silence her with a kiss and all the painful recollections will no longer matter. But he remained silent. Finally he spoke:
"But your family owe me nothing. Much as I respect them, I believe, I though only of you."
She breathed heavily and was to say something when she heard him.
"You are too generous to trifle with me. If your feelings are still what they were last April, tell me so at once. My affections and wishes are unchanged, but one word from you will silence me on this matter forever."
He gazed at her so intently that she hardly knew what to say. She mumbled something at first blushing furiously, her mind screaming: "Thank you, God. Thank you for listening to my prayers."
When she later recalled that moment, she couldn't remember what she said. All she remembered was a leap of joy and heartfelt delight she felt.
After a few moments, they continued on making polite, yet increasingly familiar conversation. Yet in Elizabeth's mind there was one longing: "Kiss me." She wanted to feel his lips upon hers. Like in her dreams. She wanted it to be like in her dreams about him. "How am I to provoke him into kissing me?" she though desperately but nothing came to her mind. Her mind was so preoccupied with thinking about inducing him into kissing her that she hadn't noticed a small rock on the road and she stumbled slightly falling against him. His hand came up automatically, and supported her arm.
"Why, thank you Fitzwilliam dearest." She said, not letting go of his arm, her fingers seeking his. She turned to face him, still holding on, and looked him in the eyes with a strange intensity, her chin tilted upward, lips slightly parted. "He must kiss me now," darted through her head. "God has been very good to me. I must have been a good girl." She contented herself with it and at that moment she felt his lips touching hers slightly, brushing against hers...
Chapter VI
This last part stays in connection to Marks' "Tormented Darcy Part VI", so please read it after the latter one.
Two Months Later
Elizabeth always thought that her torment would end once Fitzwilliam would ask her to marry him. Yet, two months after her engagement to him, the torment came back in full strength. This time a different thing tormented her and it was called the 'wedding night'. Lizzy was by no means stupid and it was long ago when she stopped believing in children coming out of cabbage or being brought by storks. She knew women gave birth to them and that it was related to the wedding night and marital duties but she wanted to know more about what exactly and how exactly it all occurred.
There were only five days left until the wedding and although Fitzwilliam already taught her a thing or two about marital relations but they confined themselves to... Lizzy always blushed when she thought of the intimate moments between herself and her fiancé. It's enough to say that they did nothing terribly compromising.
Mr. Bennet was gone to London where he was settling some affairs with his Brother Gardiner. Mrs. Bennet with Jane, Kitty and Mary were in Meryton. Lizzy found pretence to stay behind and as soon as she was sure her family was gone, she sneaked into her father's library. Many years ago, when she was but a 14 year old lass, she found a strange book in her father's library which scared her but left a mark in her mind. One thing she did remember well about it was that it was very descriptive.
Trying to cause as little noise as possible, she sneaked inside and went to the shelf, se remembered the book was lying. With trembling hands she touched one volume by one but it was not to be found. She moved o the next shelf but it was also not there. She was beginning to panic. She knew that her mother would have a talk with her and Jane about marital duties but she preferred to have gained some knowledge herself as she did not believe her mother telling the absolute truth.
Lizzy was going through the shelves but she couldn't find what she was looking for and with every shelf checked there were less where the book could have been placed.
Some ten minutes later, she was done with all the shelves but the book was nowhere to be found. Lizzy looked around the room in disappointment before her eyes were fixed on her father's desk. To her utter amazement, the book she was looking for was lying on the desk. She took it greedily and began going through.
Indeed the book was very descriptive and Lizzy's cheeks flushed in red as she watched the pictures. There was another feeling growing within her as she watched the drawings. It was warmth inside her that she could not express in words. Half way through the book she began imagining if Darcy would to it to her on their wedding night and the feeling even increased. She knew he was passionate. Her lips pained her sometimes, especially after long, solitary walks which were long mostly due to the passion they shared.
Suddenly she heard a doorbell and hastily putting the book away wanted to sneak out of the library before the visitor would enter. However before she managed to leave the room, Hill came in saying:
"Mr. Darcy, miss."
"Thank you." Lizzy blushed furiously.
"Dear, are you all right?" asked Darcy anxiously.
"Yes. I am fine. Darling, how good to see you!" exclaimed she, running to him and hugging him.
"How did I deserve such a warm greeting?" he asked mockingly.
"You shall be always warmly greeted by me." She laughed nervously, thinking about something not entirely proper for a young unmarried lady. For a second, she wondered if he knew what she really meant.
"That's my girl." He laughed.
"Fitzwilliam, kiss me, please." He looked at her archly. It was the first time she expressed such a wish.
"Your wish is my command. A sweet one, I must say."
Four Days Later
Lizzy was passing her father's library door when she heard her father comment to Uncle Gardiner:
"I'm glad you gave the boys the book. I would have no courage. And you know how I care for my daughters' satisfaction in marriage."
The End