The Secrets of Darcy and Elizabeth

Elizabeth glanced up at the dark and foreboding clouds hovering over them. “Oh my, it might storm. It would be a shame if the roads were too dangerous for us to return to Longbourn tonight.

Darcy regarded the sky and then Elizabeth with a sly smile. “Yes, that would be shame.”

“Which room are you staying in here at Netherfield?” She asked.

“I believe they refer to it as the blue room,” he replied. “Why?”

Elizabeth smiled, “I was just wondering.”

At that moment, Miss Bingley, having ridded herself of the housekeeper at last, rushed up to them and attached herself to Darcy’s other arm, so all sensible conversation was at an end.

The three of them were returning to the house when Bingley called to them and they joined him in an out-of-the-way corner of the garden. Jane was sitting on a bench and Bingley was holding her foot, examining it. Jane was obviously in pain, but trying to conceal it. Elizabeth rushed over to her sister. “What happened?”

“Oh, it was silly. I was hurrying to keep up with Charles, but my shoe slipped on some loose stones and I took a fall. Do not trouble yourself. It is nothing.” Watching her sister’s drawn face, Elizabeth was quite sure it was something indeed.

“I beg to differ with your sister,” Bingley said, an anxious expression on his face. “She took a bad fall and has certainly turned her ankle and perhaps wrenched her knee as well. She can barely put weight on her foot.”

As she struggled to a standing position, Jane was shaking her head. “Charles, it is not—” But even as she said this, she stood on the foot and involuntarily winced with pain.

“That is quite enough!” Bingley said, with a determination that Elizabeth had never seen before. “I am sending for the doctor!” Without so much as a glance at Jane for her permission, he swept her up into his arms and carried her into the house.

So it was that Elizabeth did not need a thunderstorm to keep her at Netherfield. Bingley would not hear of Jane’s removal to Longbourn, despite the doctor’s assurance that her injuries were not severe. The doctor bound up her ankle and knee and told her to stay off her feet for a week. Jane protested that she could rest her leg just as easily at her home, but Bingley could not bear to have her leave that night. Elizabeth mused that his insistence might stem, in part, from a desire to spend more time with Jane – but she was far from objecting.

Naturally, he asked Elizabeth to stay and keep her sister company. Although Elizabeth was certain she could do little for Jane under these circumstances, she readily consented to remain. The deeply content on Darcy’s face was the all the persuasion she required. A messenger was dispatched to Longbourn with the news and returned with extra clothing for the two women.

Darcy dismissed his valet for the night and finished donning his robe; his thoughts – as always – turned to Elizabeth. Reclining on his room’s large four-poster bed, he pondered his next step. Although he had longed for them to be under the same roof, he was not sure how they could act on their unexpected good fortune. Her bedroom was several doors down and visiting her would create the risk of his being seen traversing the hallway. He had noticed that the floors of Netherfield were noisy, creaking with every step. Even if he waited until everyone was abed, a light sleeper might hear his footsteps, but it was too great an opportunity to ignore. It had been too long since their interlude in the copse of trees and he longed to hold her in his arms again. Just knowing how near she was made him want to throw caution to the wind and race to her door.

Sternly he reminded himself that he would do her no favors by compromising her reputation, especially in the eyes of Caroline Bingley. They were no closer to revealing their marital status to her father – and therefore they must be above suspicion. Mr. Bennet must be unhappy enough that the two of them were spending the night under one roof. He punched his pillow in frustration. He must see her somehow! Walking to the window, he pressed his hands on the cool glass – wondering for the thousandth time how he had ended up in such a bizarre and frustrating situation.

Then he heard a slight noise behind him and turned to behold Elizabeth in the corner of the room near the bed! “My love!” He gasped. Crossing the room in two strides, he enfolded her in his embrace. “But, how did you come to be here?”

Clad only in her nightgown and dressing gown, she smiled impudently. “You forget that I know Netherfield quite well. The Staunton sisters were friends of our when their family owned this house and I spent many happy hours playing in its corridors. There is a secret passage between this room and the rose room, where I am staying.” She indicated a small doorway, designed to resemble a section of the wall, which was almost invisible when closed.

He buried his hands in her loose curls and kissed her soundly. “You, my dear, are a marvel!” he murmured against her lips. “But, how was it that you happened to be assigned the rose room?”

She batted her lashes in mock innocence. “I told Bingley’s housekeeper this afternoon that I had fond memories of the rose room from my childhood. Since no one was using the room, she was more than happy to accommodate my wishes.”

He ran his arms up and down her body, wanting to touch every inch of her. “I cannot tell you how happy I am.”

She regarded him through her eyelashes. “So, would you care to visit the rose room and see if it meets with your approval?”

His smile was fond and indulgent. “I would, but I am already quite certain I will approve of it.” She turned toward the door, but he clung to her hand, unwilling to break contact with her for one moment. Tugging softly on his hand, she led him through the concealed door.

Much later, Darcy was lying in the rose room’s bed gazing at Elizabeth, fast asleep in the crook of his arm, thinking how pleasant it was just to watch his wife sleep. She was so angelically beautiful, her dark lashes vivid against her pale skin. He, however, fought sleep, knowing that, above all, he could not be in Elizabeth’s room come the morning. As much as he longed to lie beside her all night, he knew he needed to return to his own room soon. Already a sense of yearning gripped him at the thought of leaving her.

He had taken th

e precaution of locking the door so that if he inadvertently fell asleep, they would not be surprised by one of Bingley’s maids in the morning. But Darcy’s valet might visit his room and wonder where he was. In addition, he had noticed that the lock on Elizabeth’s door was old and had not latched well. He could not be certain that it would keep the maid out – or even that she would realize the door was supposed to be locked.

Steeling himself against the pain of separation, he sat up in the bed. Elizabeth sighed and reached for him. “Shhh, my love,” he whispered. “I need to return to my room, but I will see you in the morning.”

She settled back on the bed and he pulled the blanket up around her shoulder. As he shrugged on his robe, he enjoyed one last lingering glance at her.

Suddenly he heard at footfall outside the door and a quick knock. “Elizabeth? Elizabeth?” Bingley! Darcy thought in a panic and rushed to the concealed door. Bingley was now fumbling with the room’s door knob. “Elizabeth? Forgive the intrusion, but Jane’s ankle is paining her and she was hoping you – “

The door sprang open even as Bingley was talking. Bingley stood framed in the doorway, staring right at Darcy, who was mere inches from the secret door. “Darcy!” Bingley exclaimed, completely bewildered. “I thought this was Elizabeth’s – “

He glanced toward the bed, where Elizabeth was just beginning to sit up, rubbing sleep from her eyes. Then Bingley turned back to Darcy, his look of astonishment rapidly evolving into anger.