Sudden Awakenings (The Other Paths Collection)

Chapter 34

At first, waking to the sensation of Elizabeth cuddled up in his arms was welcome, and Darcy selfishly allowed her to remain there. The pleasure of holding her, of knowing she had not rejected him, that she allowed him to be in her bed, stirred more than the feelings in his heart.

Then, when she began kissing him, it was almost like a dream. A fire lit within Darcy's belly, and he began kissing her back without even meaning to. He could not believe this woman, who had taken so firm a hold on his heart, would willingly kiss him with such passion. He wished it would never stop.

He became aware, however, almost as soon as she began, that she remained in a deep sleep and was not in possession of her full faculties. Though he could continue on– in fact, he had every right to as her husband– he could not, in good conscience as a gentleman, allow her to continue. He broke their kiss and gently pushed her from him, shaking her.

“Elizabeth, Elizabeth.” When this failed, he shook her a little harder, saying louder, “ELIZABETH!”

She woke with a start. “W-what? Mr. Darcy, what is the matter? Is the house on fire?” She leapt from the bed.

“No, my love, nothing of the sort.” The term slipped from his lips without a thought. “You were, well, how to say this…you em braced me in your sleep and you began…your lips…” Darcy found himself at a loss for words.

“Oh, dear. Do you mean to say that I kissed you?” Even in the darkness, Darcy could discern the embarrassment in her voice and posture as she put her hands to her lips. “I–I beg your pardon, I did not mean to…I had no idea! Forgive me for so forwardly accosting you in your sleep.”

“There is no fault. I am not offended by your actions. I am aware it was unconsciously done.” He could not admit to her how much he enjoyed it. Not when she was so obviously mortified, even horrified, over what she had done.

Elizabeth seemed cold, or perhaps simply overwhelmed by her sense of modesty, for despite the heavy woolen nightgown she wore, she grabbed her wrapper from where she had laid it on the bureau and wrapped it around herself.

“You are too generous, sir, for this is not the first time I have overstepped the bounds of propriety in my sleep where you are concerned.”

“If anyone is to blame, it is myself, for requiring you to remain chaperoned through the night.”

“No, it is mine, for insisting we share a bed, and for refusing to allow a maid to attend me.” She began pacing the floor. “You must think me wanton.”

“Not at all.” He shifted, grateful the darkness hid how pleased he was. Too pleased . Had my sense of honor not demanded that I wake her…

Elizabeth cleared her throat. “I shall wake Polly or one of the other housemaids and have them come up to me. You may retire to your own chambers, Mr. Darcy.”

“Are you…are you angry with me?” he asked.

“No! Goodness, no. I am angry with myself, to be sure, but not with you. You have done nothing wrong. In fact, I must thank you for being a gentleman. A lesser man than you might have taken advantage of me, in my state.”

“I shall wait until your maid comes to relieve me,” he said.

“That will not be necessary,” she said. “I am capable of remaining awake until someone arrives. You may leave now.”

Not knowing quite how to respond, he bowed to her. “I bid you goodnight.”

“Yes, goodnight to you as well.”

The informality of their farewell struck him as odd. Then again, this was between a husband and wife who had just been kissing in her bed! Darcy hurried to his own bedchamber. The memory of her lips against his and the feel of her small body within his arms kept him awake long after.

S

Elizabeth closed the door behind him and leaned her back against it. Of all the absurd things– for me to behave so wantonly towards Mr. Darcy in my sleep! She knew from experience that a person could do all sorts of things in their sleep, whether it be feeding the pig or eating up all the treats in the larder, but she did not know it was possible for acts of this nature! Her cheeks flushed harder. A strange sensation filled her belly, causing her knees to weaken.

What must Mr. Darcy think of me now?

She loathed that she must keep her promise to summon a servant, for it would surely raise questions she would rather not answer. She pulled the bell cord by her bedside, and soon a sleepy Polly arrived, confused, but ready to do her mistress’ bidding. The poor girl was tired enough that she asked no questions, but fell asleep on the cot straight away as directed. Her snores were as loud as she had warned they would be, and Elizabeth found no sleep the rest of the night. Even had Polly been a silent sleeper, Elizabeth doubted she would have slept a wink. She saw the dream in her mind again and again, especially the parts where she kissed Mr. Darcy.

The kisses had been real! She recognized with a start, her heart suddenly torn between shame and enjoyment.

‘Tis no more than lust! she chided herself. A fantasy awakened by the presence of a man sleeping in my bedchamber.

And a handsome one, too. She could not deny she found herself immensely attracted to him; every feature of his person exactly suited her tastes of what a man should look like. But was there more than that?

Certainly, an examination of his character proved that he was not so coldhearted nor arrogant as she had once supposed. He had shown himself, time and again, to be an absolute gentleman, kind, and generous, willing to endure discomfort and risk to protect her. Did that mean she loved him? What’s more, did that mean he loved her?

Elizabeth was too much a stranger to love to be certain. Her parents' marriage lacked any sort of outward expressions of affection. They slept in the same bed, much for the same reasons Mr. Darcy had offered to sleep in hers, but other than that, Elizabeth had seen no clear signs that her parents loved each other any more than they loved George the pig.

Jane claimed to love Mr. Bingley, but it was becoming more and more clear that her love of him extended no further than his fortune, and Mr. Bingley’s love appeared equally shallow. To whom could she look for an example of matrimonial love?

Her aunt and uncle Gardiner came to mind. Yes, they were a couple who clearly loved each other, and whose outward affection reflected it. As soon as she was able, Elizabeth would pay another call to Mrs. Gardiner, to ask for her advice on the subject.

S

Elizabeth took her breakfast in her bed the following morning, and remained in her quarters until the afternoon meal. She avoided Darcy’s eye contact when they met, murmuring a small greeting before joining him at the table. Darcy wondered if she felt embarrassed after their encounter the previous night, and chose not to bring it up.

They were still dining whenMr. Bingley called. He burst into the room in apparent agitation.

“Bingley, good heavens! What is the matter?” Darcy rose from his seat.

“She has refused me!” Bingley answered, crushing his felt hat tightly with his fists as he paced the room.

“Jane refused you?” Elizabeth asked, incredulous.

“I cannot account for it! I did as you asked, Darcy, and went to Berkeley Street to request a private audience with Jane. Mrs. Jennings was presently entertaining Mr. Rushworth, which I thought odd, but she was happy to acquiesce. Jane accompanied me to another room, where I declared my intentions to her.

“However, she told me she could not countenance being wed to one so dear a friend as I, and though she held me in the highest regard, she could never view me with more than the deepest friendship. After flirting with me so openly, allowing me to court her all this time, I am outraged that she should treat me thusly!”

Angry tears were falling from his eyes now as he stormed about the room. Mr. Darcy urged him to calm himself, and soon entreated him to sit beside them on the sofa and contemplate what reasons Jane might have given for her refusal.

“Perhaps she feels you have toyed with her too long,” Darcy suggested. “Perhaps she fears you were not serious in your proposal, or that you only made your declaration after speculation was raised.”

“She should not have refused you!” Elizabeth said bitterly. “Not with her own reputation at stake. I, of all people, ought to know how quickly a woman’s reputation can be ruined. If she does not wed, she will be branded as a strumpet!”

Bingley shook his head. “I pleaded with her not to throw away the happiness we could share. My home, my life, my fortune, all would be hers. I thought she reciprocated my feelings. But her refusal of me was so cold, one would think the past months we have shared together meant nothing to her!”

“I shall bring her to reason,” Elizabeth said. “I shall enlist the help of my aunt and uncle. Together, we shall call upon her and make her see reason.”

“I would rather you did not,” Bingley said. “I would not have her compelled to marry me against her will. I have already witnessed the pain inflicted by such a union.” He glanced at Darcy and Elizabeth. “Forgive me,” he added. “I do not wish to remind you further. But as for me, I will never enter into such a union against the lady’s wishes. If she will not have me, then I shall do my part to make restitution for my actions towards her. I shall supply her with whatever is needed, and remove myself to another part of the country.”

Elizabeth did not know what all he meant by this, but she could speak no further. Her heart was too choked by Jane’s refusal to know what to say or how to act. She feared for Jane’s reputation, and that of their sisters.

“I have told you what I came to tell, and now have nothing further to say,” Bingley said. “I suspect after my treatment of your sister, you shall not wish to associate with me further, so I shall bid you farewell.”

Darcy protested such nonsense, declaring their friendship would endure, but Bingley would not hear him and departed.

S

Despite Bingley’s protests that he would not wish Jane persuaded to marry him, Elizabeth could not sit by and do nothing. She went to Berkeley Street, but was told that Jane and Mrs. Jennings were dining out at the home of Mr. Rushworth and his mother. Elizabeth declared she would wait for them to return. However, after some hours had passed, she developed a headache, which she attributed to her lack of sleep and nourishment. Discontent, but unable to wait any longer, she returned home, where a pot of warm broth enabled her to fall into a dreamless sleep that night.

The following morning, still desirous to see Jane and ascertain what could have caused her sudden change of heart, Elizabeth was preparing to go out, when the butler announced visitors.

“Mr. and Mrs. Rushworth to see you, ma’am.”

“Oh, Bixby, tell them I am not at home, please,” Elizabeth hastily replied.

“Mrs. Rushworth, being the former Miss Bennet, she desired me to tell you,” Bixby added.

Elizabeth halted tying her bonnet and turned to him with a startled look. “Show them in, please, Bixby.” The words fell from her lips in a dead tone of voice.

Removing her bonnet altogether, she left it on the side table and went to the drawing room, where presently, Jane and Mr. Rushworth made their appearance.

“Jane!” Elizabeth exclaimed.

Jane rushed to her sister’s arms.“Oh Lizzy! I know this must seem sudden to you. I have come to tell you that Mr. Rushworth and I are married.”

The grin on the happy fellow’s face told her it was no jest. He bobbed his head. “We obtained the license yesterday and were married this morning, at St. George’s, Mrs. Darcy. I can scarcely believe this lovely lady consented to be my wife, but here we are!”

Elizabeth blinked, unable to keep her mouth from hanging ajar .

“You are surprised, to be sure,” Jane continued, “but will you not congratulate us, sister?”

Elizabeth recollected herself. “Yes, of course, my heartfelt congratulations, but do tell me, how did this all come about?”

Inside, she felt sickened. After all the attention Mr. Bingley had paid her, and Jane’s public display of affection towards him, it was he whom Jane ought to have married! When she thought about the heartbreak he had borne after her refusal– she could not countenance such behavior from Jane. Yet she could not scold her in the presence of Mr. Rushworth. She forced herself to smile.

“It was all quite sudden. Mr. Rushworth and I spent much time together these past few weeks, but it was not until the opera the other night that we realized we could not live without each other. Mr. Rushworth came the very next morning to propose to me, and I accepted.”

“But, but Mr. Bingley–” Elizabeth burst.

“Is a dear friend to me, but I realized that is all he ever would be,” Jane interrupted. “When he proposed, less than an hour after Mr. Rushworth did– it is all right Lizzy, he knows about it, for we have no secrets from each other– well, you can hardly blame me for refusing him.”

Mr. Rushworth, suspecting the two sisters wished to discuss matters between themselves, rose from his seat and busied himself by helping himself to the pastries and coffee set out on the breakfast sideboard in the adjoining room, which had yet to be cleared away after the interruption to the morning meal.

“You could have told him there was another, that you had already given Mr. Rushworth your hand,” Elizabeth chastised.

“I did try, Lizzy, only he was in too great a despair to listen to me. The shock of my refusal to him was great. However, I do not think he shall mourn the loss of me for long. We have enjoyed each other’s company these past months, but without a hint of marriage from him, so I do not think his request was in too great an earnest.”

“Nevertheless, do you not think you owed him an explanation, at least, after your behavior at the opera?”

Jane lowered her voice. “I do not know why you are so shocked. I did little more than flirt for a moment with my arm around Mr. Bingley, and give him a peck on the cheek, to tease him, and to make Mr. Rushworth jealous enough that he might act.”

“For shame, Jane!” Elizabeth hissed.

“It worked, did it not? As Mamma has told me, ‘some men need a little motivation to inspire them to make the necessary declaration to the lady.’ Did you not employ even further measures in order to entreat Mr. Darcy to marry you?”

“My ‘measures’ as you call them, were not adopted, but entirely unconscious,” Elizabeth retorted.

Jane merely shrugged.

“What’s more,” Elizabeth went on, casting a glance to ensure that Mr. Rushworth was still occupied in the next room, “Mr. Darcy told me of your behavior at Netherfield, the night of our ball. I would not have believed it, had I not just witnessed you at the opera. Jane, Jane, this is so unlike you!” She shook her head in disapproval.

Jane stiffened. “How would you know what I am like? You have barely paid any attention to me these past few months. I am not like you, Lizzy. I am not clever. Nor am I accomplished, like Mary, and I have no fortune. I have only my looks to rely upon, and as Mamma constantly reminds me, these shall fade away in time. If I do not secure a match now, while I am in the prime of my beauty, I shall become destitute.”

“But Mr. Bingley!” Elizabeth protested. “I thought you were in love with him. Did you not follow him to London for that very reason?”

“I did follow him, according to my mother’s advice. I did all that I could to entrance him. And for what? For months, he strung me along, without a whisper of a proposal, until I began to despair of his ever offering for me. Then I had the occasion to meet Mr. Rushworth, whose worth, I must say, is as much greater than Mr. Bingley’s as his fortune is more than twice his. It was a small matter to transfer my affections over from Mr. Bingley to Mr. Rushworth, whose ardor for me was increasing daily. Mr. Bingley was too late in his declaration, and not merely by an hour, Lizzy.”

“But at the opera! You clearly looked to be enamored with Mr. Bingley. Do you not think it wrong to toy with him so? To play these games with him, all to make the other man jealous?”

“I can feel no guilt or remorse over a man who, for months, has toyed with me, and only proposed thanks to his friend’s urging. And I do wish you would come off your high horse, Lizzy. For all your claims to innocence, you made precious few squawks when forced to marry Mr. Darcy. You could have retired to another county until any gossip died down, rather than go through with your wedding to him.”

“That is enough!” Elizabeth said, accidentally raising her voice. Lowering it again, she said, “I will brook no further insults from you, Jane. I confess, I do not know you any longer. You are a stranger to me.” She rose from her seat, just as Mr. Rushworth reentered the room.

“I thank you kindly for calling on us, Mr. Rushworth,” Elizabeth said to him. “I wish you and Mrs. Rushworth well in your new life.”

“Thank you kindly! We depart this afternoon to break the news at Longbourn, then journey on to Sotherton, so I may introduce my bride to my mother and acquaint her with her new home.”

Elizabeth nodded, then bid them both farewell.

S

Mr. Darcy had been out that morning, tending to some business matters. When he returned, Elizabeth communicated with him about her sister’s marriage.

“I cannot believe it! Of all the things!” He exclaimed.

“I was as incredulous as you are,” Elizabeth said. “But Jane appears to have made her choice. Poor Mr. Bingley! Will you call on him to tell him, or shall you write?”

“I will call on him. It will not do for him to learn of this through the papers or someone else. I hope this incident shall teach him not to delay, where matters of the heart are concerned.”

Elizabeth felt a grip on her own heart. The night time incident, coupled with the brewing sensation she felt within her, made her yearn to speak, but she did not know whether she should. Suppose I am wrong about my feelings? Suppose I have merely awakened my carnal desires? Suppose I declare myself, only for him to reject me?

These fears were enough to silence her for the present.

For now, she had business to conduct. Letters must be written, to her family, and to the Gardiners. A visit to them would also be in order, but she had not the emotional wherewithal for such a call that day. Not after all she had heard and endured that morning.