Page 24 of Searching for Elizabeth
Elizabethnodded, “My father was pretty frank about his favoritism. I did not quite know how to respond to his stated preference for me, because he insulted the others. He seemed to be teasing, but I knowthey felt disparaged.”
Darcywatched Elizabeth intently as shecontinued, “But I so appreciated his regard and care. I truly needed all the hours he allowed me to escape Mama,tosit in his book room and read. We also played chess together, and the most important thing was that my father would challenge me about whatever the newspapers were reporting about current events, and aboutthemes and settings in literature, and about authors’ biases in histories.”
Darcy gazed at her steadily, nodding as she wound down. “He was a substitute for the governess he never hired.”
“Yes,”Elizabethsaid. “But for me alone.”
“But still you have not told him about your writing?”
Elizabeth shrugged. “All of that teasing….He can be so sarcastic. So dismissive. I…I suppose I did not want to take a chance with what he would say about me sending off my work to strangers.”
Darcy felt a pang. He remembered being afraid of disappointing his own father a few times, and their relationship seemed rock steady compared to Elizabeth’s relationship to her indolent father.
“Well, I am sorry for it. I would say that I hope you would feel confident to tell your father someday soon, but…I imagine his defection now…his willingness to back your mother’s ideas that you should be forced to marry a man you cannot respect, his allowing her to banish you, hurt your relationship badly. Possibly dismantling even the chance that you would ever share your works with him?”
Darcy saw tears gather in her eyes. She said, “He demonstratedsuch preference for me, and then he just turned on me. It was…I saw him coming, and I knew he was going to defend me, and then he just sent me away. It was….”
A few ofElizabeth’stears finally escaped her eyes and trickled down her face. She turned her face upwards, apparently unwilling to relent to her emotions, butDarcy stepped closer and enfolded her in a comforting embrace. “You have been sostrong, Miss Elizabeth,” he said. “But you can let your feelings out. I think it might be healthier to do so.”
Having been given permission to cry,Elizabethsobbedinto his clothing. He had never seen her cry even a little bit, before, and now shecould not seem to stop.
When she was finally spent, Darcystill held her close. Henever wanted to let go. Her hands had been clutching the lapels of his coat but now moved to encircle his neck; she looked up into face, and he could not resistkissing her.
Elizabeth’s responses were tentative, and he wondered if his was her first kiss. As hislips moved over hers, shewent from holding her mouth still to moving it with his, and she seemed to learn very quickly. Still, when his tongue traced the seam between her lips, she paused, possibly shocked, before her mouth opened; his tongue entered her mouth, stroking hers, andhe tasted her as he had alluded to not long ago. Suddenly,Elizabeth seemed to catchfire,and her shyness wasoverwhelmed. She responded more than he could have imagined.
She moaned into his mouth, and Darcy moaned in response as he felt Elizabethpressing her body against his. He was aware that hisarousal must have become evident, pressing into her, but shedid not pull away or gasp in horror. Instead, she began toplay with his hair andstrokedhis cheeks and triedto touch the skin under his cravat.
Darcy had to stop. He broke the kiss and stepped back, breathing raggedly and watching her carefully.
Elizabeth’sbreathingwasquickanduneven, but it startedto slow. “Mr. Darcy…?” she whispered,as if she waspleading for something.
“Elizabeth,” he answered. “Are you well?”
“I am…happy?” she hazarded.
“I am ecstatic to hear that,” he replied. “I love you so.”
Shecaught her breath. “You called meElizabeth.”
“Apologies.”
“No, I liked it. I would like to call you something other thanMr. Darcy.”
“I should love that.”
“But I do not know your given name,” she said. Shegavea little hiccup,andhe smiled at her, realizing for the first time thata hiccupcould beadorable.
“My Christian name is Fitzwilliam,” he said. He lightly held her elbows, and he laughed when she pulled back in surprise.
“Fitzwilliam?” He nodded.Elizabethsaid, “Well,thatis a mouthful!”
He cocked an eyebrow and one corner of his mouth quirked upward as he reasoned, “It is four syllables, just like the four syllables ofElizabeth.”
“Oh,” she chuckled. “Isupposeyou are right.”
“People have called meFitzandFitzy,” he said, and she smiled, probably at the silliness of thenameFitzy. “But,” he continued, “I hate that. Could you call meWilliam?”
“I will do so, William.” Sheblushed and smiled, and he was elated that she looked so happy..
