Chapter Text
Fitzwilliam Darcy walked in through the front door of his London townhouse behind Elizabeth Bennet in a rush, trying to escape the unexpected rain that had forced a walk with his betrothed in the park to be cut short. But he didn't mind the rain or much of anything these days. The past two weeks might have been the happiest days of his life, ever since the woman standing a short distance away from him, laughing as a servant assisted her in wiping the rain off her hair and clothes, had accepted his hand.
Elizabeth turned to him and said “Haven't we had the most riveting of a walk today?”
Her face was flushed and a strand of wet hair was sticking to the side of her face. Darcy still hadn't grown used to the way she looked at him now, with an openness in her eyes that had not been there for most of their acquaintanceship. And he had thought her eyes couldn't have looked lovelier than after a three mile walk across the country to visit a sick sister.
Darcy responded a bit too late, “Indeed”.
Elizabeth just smiled at him and continued looking directly into his eyes. He had to look away. He still hadn't grown used to this. The openness. The eyes. The smiles. The love.
Coming back to himself, he ordered a fire to be lit and tea to be brought to the parlor where they could warm themselves up after the ruined walk. And taking Elizabeth's arm, he walked her to the parlor.
Soon after, he found himself sitting with a cup of hot tea in his hands and watching Elizabeth pouring out one for herself. Georgiana had gone to visit a friend and the rain had probably delayed her return. Elizabeth sat down on the other end of the sofa with her cup and started an easy conversation about a letter she had received from Jane. Bingley was staying at Netherfield for the moment and was dining at Longbourn every day. Her genuine happiness as she talked about some minor details regarding her sister's wedding plans almost brought on a pang of guilt to his heart. So close he had come to ruining it all, for himself, for Charles and for Jane. That life had given him an opportunity to redeem himself was greatly fortunate. Second chances are rare.
The conversation moved on from one topic to the next, flowing easily with a quick banter between the two that lit up both of their faces. As Elizabeth finally put her empty cup down on the table, Darcy leaned in to do the same. Their hands brushed against each other, they both looked up at the same time. Looking into her eyes, he suddenly became acutely aware of the fact that they were unchaperoned, the first time since the fateful morning when she had agreed to be his wife. It was Elizabeth who looked away this time, busying herself with putting away the tea things.
Forcing himself to be bolder than he was feeling, he took one of Elizabeth's hands in both of his own, gently pulling her away from the table and back to the sofa. “I must confess, I…” But he wasn't sure what he wanted to convey… how he could express his gratitude, his utter happiness, all the emotions that seemed to overwhelm him and make his heart feel like bursting every night when he went to bed.
He was staring at their hands now. Her soft hand entangled with both of his, how he wished to never let go. She gently put her other hand on the side of his face, and he couldn't help but lean into her touch. “You can tell me anything”, she spoke softly. Her words, spoken so intimately, just for him. He looked up and whispered, “I'm afraid, madam, that I'm even more in love than I was two weeks or even two months ago.”
Her smile in return was blinding, “I thought you were going to confess something terrible. About family secrets or past romances.”
He could hear her teasing him at the end there. He wasn't used to being teased, it was only her who ever dared. She always made him stumble, he didn't know how to respond. Past romances… as a boy, he may have fancied himself attracted to someone or the other, but with age, the amount of unwelcome attention he received from both women looking to make a “good match” and their mothers, had made him form a severe opinion of the whole sex. Would she think him a liar if he said that in his twenty eight years, no woman had ever come even close to capturing his attention the way she had from almost the beginning of their acquaintanceship. And once he started paying attention, there was no way to stop, to turn back. And he had tried, desperately so. What a fool he had been.
Elizabeth was still waiting for a reply, the smile still playing on her lips. He wanted to kiss those lips, he thought… not for the first time. Instead he bent down and kissed her hand.
“I'm sorry to disappoint. I'm not revealing anything of that nature. Yet.” He finally responded, trying to match the lightness of her mood.
“Yet!?” She immediately exclaimed. “So I should be worrying about such revelations coming my way some time in the future?”
“Most certainly. Once I have you tied down in holy matrimony with no possibility of deciding to break off our arrangement, can I even begin to consider telling you my secret history.”
“Now you certainly have piqued my interest and I can hardly wait for the day of the wedding so that I can begin nagging you about revealing this secret history.”
“Neither can I.”
He realized that they were smiling at each other quite foolishly, and in another time, Fitzwilliam Darcy would have scoffed at any couple wearing such expressions.
Elizabeth's smile slowly turned into a blush as they continued to stare at each other. His eyes eyes involuntary fell down to her lips again. And this time before he could distract his mind, he found himself leaning in towards her. And even more surprising was that Elizabeth instead of turning away from him, was leaning in towards him.
Their lips met in the softest of touches. He inhaled sharply. How many times had he imagined doing this. He slowly leaned in further, deepening the kiss, his arms coming to wrap around her waist. Her hands were on his chest now, pressed against him so surely. He was afraid that at any moment she might put a stop to this reckless behavior, given that the door to the parlor was kept ajar for propriety's sake and anybody could walk in at any moment. But blessedly, she continued to kiss him back as if she had been longing for this just as much as him. This thought made his lips even more urgent against hers, his grip around her waist tighter. Her arms had moved up to circle around his neck now. But he wanted her closer still. He didn't know how he had lost control of his senses so completely, but he was appalled at finding himself pulling her onto his lap. And he was even more appalled when she let him do it with no protest. Her hands had found their way into his hair and sitting above him, she truly was driving him mad.
But she broke away from him to catch her breath. They were both breathing hard, their foreheads touching. He was afraid of saying anything. He was also afraid that this was too good to be true, too good to be truly happening outside of his imagination. And if this was indeed yet another dream, pray that he never wakes up.
She cleared her throat and broke the silence with a whisper, “Fitzwilliam, I should...”
It was the first time she had called him Fitzwilliam.
“Elizabeth…”
She had begun to move, to probably get off his lap but the sound of his voice whispering her name made her stop.
They were looking at each other again, neither sure what to say or do. Maybe the emotion visible though their eyes was enough, but maybe it wasn't… their lips met once again.
Even before the kiss had really begun though, he felt her rapidly jumping out of his arms and as far away from him on the sofa as possible. He was just realizing what had happened when she was back next to him, hands in his hair. It took him a second to realise that she was trying to fix his hair, to make it look presentable again. And then he heard the approaching footsteps at the door.
Elizabeth was up in a second, walking to the door, happily greeting Georgiana, expressing her annoyance at the weather, asking about her visit to the friend. Darcy closed his eyes, taking two deep breaths, willing his heartbeat to slow down.
He then stood up and joined Elizabeth and Georgiana, though not much of his contribution was needed in the conversation. He had always known that two women he admired beyond all others would get along well. To see it confirmed before his eyes, brought great peace to his heart.
As they moved to get back to the sofa, Elizabeth grabbed a moment when Georgiana's back was to them to give his hand a gentle squeeze.
The short gesture was just for him, given secretly. As was the look in her eyes the numerous times he caught her eyes all through the evening. They were given just to him.
The smiles. The eyes. The stolen kisses. The caresses. The sighs. The love.
In the weeks until their wedding day, there were many things, small and not so small, that took Darcy by surprise. Because he wasn't used to them. But someday he will be… Or perhaps, they would always catch him a little by surprise.