it was not as
if she had been granted numerous opportunities to observe Mr. Darcy walking at
a pace as brisk as the one he was currently setting. Yet somehow she knew that
his normal gait was solid, each thickly booted foot planted confidently and
with the hint of arrogant domination present in his bearing. Today, however,
one would think he wore the lightest of house shoes or was seconds away from
dancing on a slickly polished floor. She half expected his mincing feet to
abruptly leave the ground in a balletic pirouette.
The vision was so ridiculous that
she burst out laughing.
“Lizzy? Is that you? Jane, go see
if that was Lizzy, and if so, bring her here. We have much to discuss!”
Lizzy’s laugh was replaced by a
groan at her mother’s query. She wanted to bask in her happiness, not be
subjected to an inquisition! She was already shaking her head and pleading with
her eyes when Jane’s face popped around the corner.
“No, Mama,” Jane finally said,
wincing at the untruth. “She must still be outside.”
Thank you , Lizzy mouthed.
She pantomimed climbing the stairs, pointed in the general direction of her
bedroom, and then pointed at her sister and back toward the ceiling. Jane
nodded, her face calm, as always, but Lizzy detected the confusion and
colliding questions within Jane’s blue eyes. Come up soon. I need to talk to
you. Jane nodded once again before turning into the parlor to distract Mrs.
Bennet so that Lizzy could dart past the doorway and escape to the stairs.
Once in the bedroom, Lizzy dashed
straight to the window. It was ridiculous, of course. The angle from this
corner of the house was inadequate to visualize the twisting pathway that led
to Netherfield. Additionally, even if realities of geometric space and
obstructing trees were not an issue, Mr. Darcy would have traveled beyond the
reach of her eyesight by now. None of that kept her from trying anyway and then
sighing forlornly when his figure was nowhere to be seen.
He still loves me! And we are to
be married!
At her youngest and silliest age,
Elizabeth Bennet had rarely been a girl known for flighty antics and addled brain.
Vivacious and buoyant in spirit, indeed she was, but with a controlled demeanor
differentiating her actions from those of foolish youths, such as Lydia and
Kitty. Now here she was, at the mature age of twenty, giggling aloud and
fighting an intense urge to twirl about the room or sprint down the trail until
she had caught up to Mr. Darcy. In truth, she wanted to twirl and then run insanely after Mr. Darcy!
It was absurd in the extreme and
should have embarrassed her into sobriety.
Instead, the ridiculous vision lead
her to imagining catching her betrothed on the trail, which in turn lead her to
imagining how pleased he would be and how he might express his pleasure, which
in turn lead her to imagining—vividly—his kisses.
Lizzy pressed her palms against her
flaming cheeks, closed her eyes, and inhaled several times. Finally, with a
modicum of control restored, she moved away from the window. Inadvertently, her
eyes opened to a reflection of her face in the vanity mirror.
The face staring back at her was a
revelation.
Lightness and gaiety burst from
within the chocolate depths of her eyes, startling her. It was a novel
expression yet instantly recognizable as what she had detected within Mr. Darcy’s
eyes while gazing at her in the garden. There were a number of alterations to
her mien that, if she were more her typical self and not overtaken by emotion, would
cause her to laugh mockingly. Had she not just yesterday teased Jane for lips
suspiciously plumper and ruddier than usual after her solitary walk with Mr.
Bingley to the stables? Lizzy’s lips were normally plump, but at the present,
they were on the verge of swallowing her face!
Love, it has to be, and perhaps
the residuals of physical desire.
This thought increased the warmth in
her already burning cheeks, and hysterical giggling again threatened