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CHAPTER 14
Posted on Saturday, 7 January 2006
Charles awoke in the middle of the night, and didn’t go back to sleep. His eyelids refused to close; instead he devoured the sight of Jane, asleep in his arms, her long hair resting against his chest, her hands entwined with his in such harmony and familiarity that he had not dared to imagine or hope ever before.
The light of the dining room slipped through the half closed door of the bedroom. They had neglected to turn it off but it was better this way as it showed Jane to the best advantage; her slim figure seemed as if it radiated a glowing warmth. His lips reached her neck and placed a soft kiss there. She sighed and moved even closer to him. He wanted to wake her up and make love to her again; his passion and his wish to be part of her had not abated yet. Quite the contrary actually, it seemed as if it grew greater every minute, transforming into an elementary need for his survival. He was not frightened by the affect. He accepted it as inevitable; he welcomed it as a miracle.
He didn’t obey his inner voice, though. Instead he surrendered to the tenderness that invaded him and told him that at that moment he wanted nothing more than to admire his love in her sleep; his love that had met his passion again and again a few hours ago and who had evoked and shared such new feelings with him that he knew now he was not exactly the man he was earlier that day. He pondered on the changes with a smile on his face and relief in his heart. There was no denying it: he was happy.
The ringing of Jane’s phone made him startle. Though on such a night he was incapable of having any bad feelings or apprehensions, a phone call at such an hour sounded ominous even to his own ears. Jane clenched her fists and her face took a stubbornly angry expression but she remained fast asleep. The ringing persisted. He kissed her earlobe and whispered to her that she had to wake up. She resisted but the phone kept ringing and finally she gave in, woke up and before she could become too alarmed by the fact that someone was ringing her at the wee hours, Charles handed her the phone.
“Hello?” She asked with an unsteady voice. Then she gasped. “William? What happened? My sister… where is my sister?” Charles looked at her with increasing worry, as color left her face and tiny drops of sweat appeared on her brow. “Ok, I am listening.” He watched her trying not to panic, to retain her calmness with no great success. “You went out with her last night, William! What has Wickham to do with this? Yes? What? No, you will explain to me now!” She cried. Charles heard his friend’s voice, and recognized the tone Will used whenever he wanted to reassure the others although inwardly he was terrified. His hands moved to Jane’s back protectively. “Yes, Lizzy comes first… Yes, you’re right, not via the phone…But Lizzy, where is she? Doesn’t answer? Why didn’t you send someone to her apartment? Oh, yes, me… Of course. Yes, not five minutes walking. I’ll call you. Yes, Charles is here. Want to talk to him?” She handed him the phone.
“Charles, it’s me.” William spoke slowly and clearly. “Wickham is at it, again. He threatened Elizabeth and he has evidence against me. I have to move quickly, before noon today. But I can’t find Elizabeth and I want to know if she’s alright. Please, go with Jane, find her and do not leave her on any account. Make sure she’s ok…and that she stays ok… Can I count on you, Charles?”
Charles was not sure what this was all about, but he was convinced that he could not question his friend’s instructions. “I’ll be there for her, Will.”
“Thanks.”
“Will, take care. For your sake; for her sake.”
“I’ll try.”
Charles wished he could squeeze his friend’s hand in support but he sighed and got off the bed. Jane was already dressed and ready to leave.
“I’ll come with you, Jane.”
“Then make haste!” She shouted as she was heading for the door. Then she paused, turned her head and whispered: “I am so sorry, Charles. It’s just that…”
“It’s ok.” He dismissed her apologetic look quickly. “I’ll be ready in a minute.”
Georgiana felt a light caress on her face. Unwilling to give up her sleep, full of warmth and beautiful dreams she buried her head in the pillow as her hand tightened its grip on her covers. The caress persisted, slow but unyielding and she heard someone calling her name with the utmost tenderness. Reluctantly, she opened her eyes and looked at her brother, sitting at the corner of her bed, a sad smile marking his face. He was fully clothed.
“William, what are you doing here?” She asked, the sweet numbness of sleep not evading her yet.
“My darling sister,” He whispered and she was touched by the tenderness in his voice, the protectiveness that always made her feel safe when he was near. The reassurance that he was always there for her, loving her and defending her from all the dangers, real or imaginary, as he had done since their childhood. How could I have ever forgotten that? Without particular reason, the lapse of faith in him came to her mind, her anger and disappointment subconsciously directed towards him when the two men had broken her heart. She blinked her eyes to remove the memory. All was well now; she had the best of brothers with whom she had learnt to share everything. Most importantly she had found a true, strong love. Alex was everything her heart had ever craved. All was well. Or was it not?
Completely awake, Georgiana tossed off all the covers and in an instant she was sitting next to her brother, cupping his face in her hands to make him look directly into her eyes and meet her anxious gaze.
“William, what is wrong? Tell me, please, who…?” The words were cut short in her throat.
“No, no, calm down, my dear Anna. Everyone is alright.” He took her in his arms tightly and stroked her back. After long moments of suspense he pushed her back softly so he could see her face.
“Look, Anna.” He swallowed hard. “What I have to tell you relates with our family’s past. You were right to suppose there was more to the story, while I saw it all in a black-and-white way. It’s my fault, stupidly denying it all these years… And now we have a dilemma to face.”
She stopped him. “Will, I am sleepy, and you are not making sense. I am worried now.”
He smiled faintly. “Ok, let me see how to explain…”
“Will, I am not a baby. I won’t deny that the feeling of being protected by you is not unpleasant, but the truth won’t break me to pieces.”
William looked at his sister; he recognized the look of determination that marked her eyes and spread to all her features. It was his determination that he saw there; probably their mother’s as well. Yes, things had taken an ugly turn, it was true, but he was feeling more and more determined to face what was coming. He took a deep breath before speaking.
“Our father knew that John Wickham was a drug-dealer. He covered for him and supported him for many years.”
He paused, startled by how abruptly and clumsily he had let the truth come out. But now that he had decided to share everything with his sister, he wanted to get rid of the burden as soon as possible. He even believed that the feeling of betrayal and pain would be eliminated once he was done with his explanation to Georgiana.
Consideration for his sister prevailed however and he managed to suppress the sudden wish for his relief. William watched Georgiana intently. He recognized in her eyes the shock, the sudden wave of pain attacking her, despite her remarkable attempt to mask it. He was afraid that she would start crying. However she remained silent, breathing deeply, calming herself, warding off with a slight movement of her hand his attempt to take her into his arms, to comfort her. Her hand remained raised for a moment, and then it fell softly down. She nodded.
“I’m ok, Will. So, what happened to our mother?”
William told her the entire story, with no embellishments or attempts to sugarcoat the truth. He had no right to hide anything from his sister in the name of protecting her. It was her truth as well, her family, her fight. More than anything, he felt better this way. He was not alone; and he was stronger than ever.
As Pemberley’s CEO, Michael Fitzwilliam used to be the first to wake up and the last to go to bed in his family. Even after his retirement, he had continued his early awakening, enjoying the peace and solitude of the morning. Never had he imagined that there would be a day that his son, actor and party animal Richard would be up earlier than him; much less that he would come to wake him up too. However, on that fateful day he opened his eyes after hearing the tender urges to do so by his wife and son. He saw the false smiles on their faces, which were aimed at not worrying him no doubt, and then noticed Richard’s bodyguard in the corner of the room, her face invariably grave. He liked that girl very much; no hypocrisy, no useless disguise.
“Somebody died?” He asked, gaining a gasp from his wife and a resigned nod from his son.
Richard realized that neither concealment nor beating around the bush were options when dealing with his father.
“Dad, we’re afraid that you will have a heart attack when you hear the news.”
“Which is?” He was completely calm. At his age and with his experience he doubted that anything could surprise him.
“We learnt what really happened to Aunt Anne.” Richard offered carefully and watched his father intently.
The effect was immediate. Countless little wrinkles became visible on Michael’s face, rendering it suddenly old. His eyes, which used to resemble those of a hawk, narrowed and turned into two expressionless holes. His authoritative tone abandoned him, replaced by an amount of resignation his son had never witnessed before. His proud posture became rather defensive; he suddenly seemed like an old, tired man who wanted to be left in peace.
“It’s an old story, son. Don’t follow it. I tried to but stopped before I got too entangled. I don’t know and do not want to know what happened.” An angry growl was heard from Monika’s corner of the room and he raised his eyes to meet her disapproving gaze. “Anne is dead and we can’t do anything to bring her back.”
“Anne Darcy was killed. ” Monika said very pointedly, emphasizing the last word. Then, as Richard turned to look at her, she offered an apologetic gesture and added in a low voice. “So sorry. I didn’t mean to interfere, but…” She left her sentence unfinished.
“No, it’s ok.” Richard answered in a loud, clear voice. “It’s your sister we are talking about, father. Doesn’t she deserve this?”
“Deserve what?’ Michael met his wife’s fearful eyes and then his attention returned to his son.
“Justice.” Richard stated simply.
“Rick, you are too young to…” He started in his authoritative tone.
“No,” his son interrupted him. “You cannot lecture me on this, father. I have no delusions about angels ruling this world; I do not believe that good wins and evil is punished. But how can you be so insensitive to something that concerns your family? Something so appalling that happened to your sister? Your own sister!” Richard cried.
“How dare you speak to me in this way?” Michael felt a mixture of rage and fear that was clouding all his senses, his better judgment, every corner of his mind, spreading through his veins, in his blood, his body, poisoning him, suffocating him. He heard his wife’s silent sobs but they could do nothing to reassure them. Richard continued in the same, ruthless voice; determined. He would not relent now.
“You are going to tell the truth!”
“I have never lied!” Michael shouted in indignation, with all the strength he possessed.
“You have intentionally avoided facing the truth!” Richard accused him. “You are no better than a liar!”
“Richard, please, stop this, now!” His mother suddenly ordered, exceedingly worried by the red color of her husband’s face.
“You have to make up for what you did, Dad! You are going to help William reveal everything. Today. At noon. At the press conference.”
“What? Which press conference? What is he revealing?” Daggers were poking against his chest, a pain he had not felt before.
“Enough!” His wife cried suddenly. The tiny woman transformed into a tiger protecting what was important to her.
“Did you know, Dad?”
“I said that was enough!”
Michael felt suffocated; he could not breathe, he could not talk and he thought he was drifting in a state of semi-consciousness from which he could not come back. I am dying, he thought and the panic nearly stopped his heart. He made a strangled sound in a vain attempt to allow the breezy air back into his lungs. He began thinking of all the things that he wanted to do and had not have found time to; things that he had postponed for later; always thinking that there would be enough time. First a million of trifling things paraded in his mind and then came the facts that had changed his life, leaving their marks. The mystery that unveiled his sister’s disappearance and death had a prominent position between them. A desperate wish to find out invaded, even if it was the last thing he could do. But he felt so weak…
Minutes passed, as he was diving in the darkness. But he resisted, finding the strength to grasp somewhere, to hold on and re-emerge, slowly but surely. A cool hand on his forehead was the first thing he felt. He opened his eyes to meet his wife looking at him, drowned in tears. His gaze searched for his son but Richard and his companion had clearly left the room. He smiled faintly and tried to speak, but his wife silenced him, placing her palm on his mouth.
“Hush, Michael. It’s over.”
“What happened?”
“You were,” she bit her lip, “a little irritated, and it seems you fainted. It’s nothing, really.” His wife was a loving woman with the tenderest heart, but she was terrible at comforting. He could tell that she was terrified. He relished her affection but he knew he could never gain strength from her. However, the weakness that had previously paralyzed his limbs was now evaporating. He felt his body was at his command and his heart was unlikely to betray him.
Michael Fitzwilliam was nothing if not a practical man. Supernatural quests and beliefs had never been his style and he always mocked people who claimed to have returned from death or have a sixth sense or narrating any of these ‘fairy-tales-for-the–two-year-old’ as he called them dismissingly. However, that morning he felt as if he was given a second chance. A chance he could not ignore.
“Please, tell Richard to come in again.”
“No.” She stated as firmly as she could, fire in her eyes. Then resuming her tender look and handing him some pills, she whispered. “The doctor said to take these. He’s on his way here now.”
Michael accepted the pills, but he was not willing to forget his request.
“I want to talk to him.”
“Michael, no.” She seemed determined, but he had made his decision and he knew that his will was stronger than hers.
“Don’t be stubborn. You almost died five minutes ago.” As he seemed stronger by each passing moment, she let herself show how afraid she had been.
He stood up and took her hands into his.
“But now I am here, and I am not going anywhere. I promise I am not leaving you.”
“You…” she mumbled meekly.
“I am an old dog with a young heart. Call Richard.”
Richard stepped in a moment later. Michael noticed that Monika did not accompany him this time. His son had cast his eyes down, as mixed feelings tortured his heart. Richard could still not overcome the shock of watching his father fainting on his behalf; the fear was still making him tremble; his pulse had not yet returned to normal. Yet, he could not help being furious with his father, his stubbornness, his blindness that risked denying William an indispensable support. He could not bring himself to look at his father; and his mouth refused to speak.
“Richard, I am sorry.”
Richard almost jumped in surprise. His father never apologized to anyone, much less to him. It was the only reaction he did not expect to receive. He hardly knew how to feel. He stared at his father in surprise, words still refusing to come out of his lips.
“You were right. I believe I was so negative, because I knew that I was so wrong. My sister was always a little ‘wild,’ but I loved her and she deserved better than what she got. I am glad that you insisted, Rick. You reminded me what I ought to have done years ago.” He smiled nervously. “I guess it’s never too late?” Richard was speechless. “Well, it is late for Annie,” Richard witnessed a rare moment of pure sadness casting its shadows on Michael’s face, leaving it almost immediately, as his father continued, determined: “But if I can help to punish the rascals who killed her, I am in for it. It’s the least I can do.”
Richard shared his father’s practical beliefs. But on that particular morning, in his mind, nothing less than a miracle could account for his father’s complete metamorphosis.
“I can’t believe you didn’t wait for the doctor!” Michael gazed, almost amused, at his wife’s exasperated face.
“It is more than enough that he will come to Pemberley to examine me. I feel as good as new.” He answered smugly and then turned to Richard, saying: “Can you tell the chauffer to drive faster?”
“Don’t worry, Dad. I called Will; they won’t start before you arrive. Besides, for the moment, Monika is our best source of information.” Richard pointed at his bodyguard with genuine pride on his face.
“Do you have the tape with you?” Michael asked.
“No, I gave it to Darcy. Wickham admitted the truth, but gave no real evidence. Just indications of where to start searching.” Monika answered dryly.
“But how did this woman…”
“Elizabeth Bennet, Dad.”
“Yes, how did this Elizabeth make him say everything?”
“Well,” Monika thought, “it was a strange conversation, like a battle to hurt each other as much as possible. Dunno how to explain it… As if he intended to make her suffer by telling her how he punished Anne Darcy.” Monika shrugged her shoulders.
“William listened to the tape.” Richard said. “Elizabeth must have suffered a lot, for I heard him saying he wanted to strangle Wickham with his bare hands.”
“Suffering by a conversation? A bit oversensitive, this Elizabeth, isn’t she?”
Richard mouthed: “He doesn’t understand” to Monika, but she answered promptly.
“No, no, she was very brave last night. Very courageous.”
“But you,” Michael said. “How did you think of recording their conversation? Who told you to?”
Richard cast another admiring look at her, as she answered:
“I found myself in that pub by pure luck.” She looked at Richard for a brief moment; then redirected her attention to Michael. “I recognized Elizabeth from a photo I had seen in Darcy’s house, and from descriptions. Anyone could see that she was terrified. I was amused in the beginning, but then I noticed her looking at me with such hostility that troubled me. Then Wickham entered…It was as if she had seen a ghost. I’ve done the job I do for many years; I’ve never seen anyone so despaired before. I knew that she was dating Darcy… And some suspicions have existed regarding this Wickham guy for years… Well, there were various rumors… Anyway, I heard him urging her to go to a secluded corner, threatening her in some way. I feigned going to the lady’s room. It took me only a moment to leave the microphone under the table Wickham was suggesting. I was lucky that Elizabeth detained him for some minutes. They left, one after the other hastily. No one suspected that everything was recorded.”
Michael and his wife listened to her without interruption.
“Isn’t she amazing?” Richard said as soon as she had finished, gaining a reproachful look from Monika.
“Yes.” Michael answered softly, almost non-audibly. “Yes, she is.”
Jane and Charles found Elizabeth lying on the floor, stains of tears mixed with blood on her cheeks. Her body seemed relaxed after a fight and for one horrible moment Jane believed that something final had happened. She ran to her and frantically tried to revive her, crying her name, grabbing her shoulders, lightly smacking her cheek until Elizabeth’s confused look met a very relieved one of her own. Jane watched her sister looking at the surroundings and then at her, not remembering what had transpired the night before. Her breath smelled of alcohol. Elizabeth was very drunk.
“Lizzy? Lizzy, can you hear me?” Jane said in a calmer tone.
Elizabeth only nodded.
“Lizzy, tell me. Did anyone hurt you?”
Elizabeth closed her eyes. Her head seemed ready to burst and she felt as if someone was poking screws into her skull. The tiniest effort to concentrate simply ached too much.
“Lizzy, did you do this to yourself?” Jane caressed the wound on her cheek. Elizabeth had dozed off again.
Charles moved closer. “Perhaps you shouldn’t ask for answers now. She’s had a bad night, obviously. We should let her rest.”
“But…”
“We’re here now. Nothing is going to happen to her. Darcy will tell us what caused this, no doubt.”
“Maybe she needs a doctor.” Jane protested.
“I doubt it. No harm is done.” His fingers ran over the wounds on Elizabeth’s cheek. “It is only on the surface, it doesn’t go deeply.”
“Maybe she’s had alcohol poisoning…”
“Jane, believe me, alcohol poisoning has far worse effects on someone.” There was no doubt that Charles Bingley had experienced each and every one of them. “Trust me. She only needs some rest. She must have been through a lot. Perhaps it will be better for her to wake up and learn that Will has taken care of everything.”
“Will caused this!” Jane cried emphatically.
“Don’t be unfair, Jane. Will loves her and he would never hurt her intentionally. Your sister trusts him. Trust him; and trust me too.”
Jane didn’t seem completely persuaded, but she drew back and let Charles carry Elizabeth into her room. She stayed there, gazing at her sister worryingly, as Charles withdrew to the adjoining room. Some time passed; she couldn’t tell how much. Then he appeared, holding his cell phone and whispering:
“Will wishes to speak to you.”
She grabbed the phone and went to the other room without even looking at Charles.
“Yes?” She used her most abrupt tone.
“How is Elizabeth?” William answered worried, but without betraying any guilt, much to Jane’s irritation.
“Alive, if that’s what you’re asking.”
“Jane!” He seemed shocked.
“What?”
He tried to calm himself. “Why are you mad at me?”
“You were with her last night. You tell me.”
“I am not responsible for this, Jane. At least not in the way you mean it.” He sighed.
“Who is it then?” She cried. “I am sick of your secretiveness!”
“Ok, I will tell you exactly what happened. But don’t interrupt me, because we haven’t got much time.”
Some minutes later Jane returned to Elizabeth’s room, where Charles had stayed during her absence. Wordlessly, she hugged him tightly, burying her face in his chest.
“Will you forgive me for being such a shrew before?”
“It was not that very bad.” He whispered reassuringly.
“Now you’ve seen the worst in me.” She lifted her face. “Do you still love me?”
“More than ever.” He stated simply, as she held him even tighter. “Besides, now we’re equal. You have seen the worst in me, and I have seen the worst in you. No more unpleasant surprises in our relationship.” He chuckled.
“I love you, Charles.”
“Good to know. Because I love you too. Very, very much.”
Jane looked at her sister, asking Charles a silent question.
“She will be fine.” He said “Will is going to make everything right, before she even wakes up.”
The ring of the doorbell made them start; and then alerted them to danger. They moved towards the hall, stopping a few steps before the door. Charles took her hand into his.
“Don’t be afraid.”
“I am not.”
“Have you any idea who it might be?” He took in a deep breath.
“I called dad to explain; and he said he would come, although I asked him not to. He accepted a compromise and agreed not to come before ten.” They looked at their watches simultaneously. Six thirty. “Why did he? Or perhaps it is not him?” Jane was not good at masking her panic.
“We’ll see, darling. Don’t worry, I am here.” Charles moved towards the door and spied the person who stood outside through the peephole.
“It’s a woman. Alone.” He whispered softly, trying not to alarm Jane. She opened her mouth to reply when a voice that betrayed genuine anguish was heard from outside.
“Jane, open the door! What has happened in there? Jane, open now!” The woman started banging on the door.
Jane was not sure if she should feel relived or horrified. She stood for a moment, fixed, but then perceived that Charles was still waiting for an explanation, she turned to him.
“My mother.”
Charles exhaled heavily. “But, how?”
Jane shook her head, resigned. “She called me at 5am asking me to bring Charlotte’s favorite cake to Hertfordshire.”
“Ah, the lunch.” Charles nodded knowingly. “But, 5 am?”
Jane smiled nervously and said: “My mother is the ‘when I remember it, I’ve got to say it’ type.” She opened the door and Fanny Lucas stormed in, like a hurricane.
“Lizzy,” she said breathlessly, not taking note of the fact that a strange and handsome man was standing next to her eldest daughter. “Where is Lizzy?”
“Mom, what are you doing here?”
“You thought you could trick me, Jane? I gave birth to you!” She cried. Jane shrugged. Her mother had always been melodramatic; unfortunately now there was good reason for her to be. Fanny walked past Jane and Charles, not even greeting him, heading for Elizabeth’s bedroom. “You think that I wouldn’t be alarmed when you told me that you had to be at Lizzy’s at 5 am? I am your mother, for God’s sake! Your damn mother!”
Charles was more than surprised. From Jane’s descriptions, he had pictured Fanny Lucas as a very different person than what she now appeared to be. But the truth was that Jane had never seen her mother in such a state either. She seemed like a wild animal; smelling the danger. She watched Fanny as she found the broken glass and the bloodstain on the carpet, waiting for the inevitable outburst. “Lizzy!” Fanny screamed before Jane could do anything to stop her.
“Hush, mother, she is fine. Just asleep.” Jane embraced her. “We’ll go to her room, but you won’t shout, ok? We must not wake her up.”
“But the blood?” Fanny protested.
“She scratched her cheek.” Charles said hastily. “We’ll explain everything later. For the moment, please don’t make noise.” Jane cast him a reproachful look but he shrugged his shoulders, mouthing a silent “What? Weren’t we supposed to tell her?” looking very innocently.
Fanny tiptoed into Elizabeth’s room, followed by Jane at arm’s length. She sat quietly at one side of the bed and watched carefully her daughter’s sleeping yet agitated and tortured face. Her palm touched her cheek, still stained from blood. “My Lizzy,” she sighed, “my baby, who hurt you like that?”
“Mum, no one attacked her. She did this to herself. She was…was…” Jane stammered.
“Despaired.” Charles offered softly.
“But, why would she…?” Fanny left her question unfinished, looking suddenly completely resigned. “Lizzy, Lizzy, I could never understand you. You never let me understand you.” She heaved a sigh, before speaking to Jane. “Please, bring something to clean her face. I cannot see her like this.”
“But, mum, it’s better to let her rest…” Jane said.
“I am your mother. I know what is best for both of you. I’ve nursed you two since you were babies!” Fanny said decidedly.
Jane went to the kitchen to bring what she was asked, wondering what her sister would make of this if she were awake.
“This is a disaster. A disaster!”
Darcy didn’t pay any attention to the repeated exclamations of the group of lawyers and members of the board. They had not stopped declaring how horrible the situation was since he had announced what had happened. The sleepy and annoyed faces had turned into appalled and positively terrified ones in less than a minute. They were very quick at realizing what was at stake.
“Darcy, surely you can stop this woman who knows everything from revealing the truth. Wickham will do nothing unless she does.” One of his father’s closest colleagues said firmly.
“Stop her how? The same way Wickham stopped my mother?” Darcy said coolly. “No, Mr. Rogers, it seems that a lot of people in Pemberley can live without a clear conscience, but I am not one of them.”
“Darcy, we can’t afford to pay for your conscience. It’s too personal to concern us.”
“I am the CEO here. I own the largest part of Pemberley. My conscience is your conscience.” He replied firmly.
“This is absurd!”
“No, this is the way things are.” Darcy hissed.
“I am not obliged to follow you in your madness.”
“Don’t you dare insult my nephew like this ever again.” Michael Fitzwilliam spoke for the first tine that morning. He had not supported either side until that point and it was thought that Darcy would not have the blessing of his uncle and former CEO. Apparently everyone was mistaken. “He is doing what is right and you have no right to question his choice. We are not consulting you, gentlemen. We are informing you.” Under his reproachful glare, even the older members looked like schoolboys.
“Don’t you understand, Michael? This is the end of Pemberley!” One of them found the courage to protest. “And you ask us to prepare for this in…” he looked at his watch, “…less than five hours. We cannot possibly…”
“We’ve lost too much time.” Darcy said with such an ominous voice that even his uncle gazed at him in apprehension and surprise. “Everyone who doesn’t want to go through this is free to quit. NOW. Now, gentlemen! Do you hear me?” He shouted and the veins of his throat seemed ready to explode. “I am giving this damn press conference at noon and nothing will stop me. I don’t care if I will be left with only one colleague then, but the ones who will continue here will have to support my choice.” He paused and looked at every pair of eyes in the room separately, with a merciless, stealthy stare that left everyone feeling naked. It was clear to them whom the boss was and whom they all had to follow. “Your last chance, gentlemen.” He said in a low voice that made some of them shiver. “Who leaves and who stays?”
No one spoke; no one moved.
“I won’t repeat the question.” Darcy said as a tiny smile curved his lips. Silence persisted for a whole minute while almost everyone in the room had begun to pray that the meeting would finish soon.
“Fine.” Darcy said slowly after the minute was over. “I take it then that you will all sit next to me in five hours.”
At that moment a second group of lawyers entered, followed by three experts in computers, three people who worked in the archives, the director of human resources and Georgiana who had gone with them. They carried many thick folders that they left on the big oval table. Georgiana handed William five CD-ROMs.
“We won’t go to jail after all, brother.” She smiled at him weakly. “But you can start suing some of your faithful employees now.”
Elizabeth heard a voice calling her name from afar. She wanted it to stop, to leave her alone, but she could not find the energy to tell the voice to cease. She felt she was in a dark, quiet room; or rather at the ocean side; someone was dragging her outwards, but she didn’t want to submerge. The battle continued for some time; she couldn’t tell for how long until she finally gave in and opened her eyes. One of her mother’s rare, genuine smiles greeted her and behind her stood Jane and Charles. She blinked once or twice before she could force her mind to start working.
A little pang of fear hit her, for which she could not account. Then as realization slowly came to her, invaded her; shadows and successive waves of apprehension started their ruthless attack until she was left drained and panicked. The previous night, she drank and drank, wishing that she would die; that she would never have to wake up again to face reality. She didn’t want to live in the world as it had now become. But retreat was never her way. Deep inside her, even in the darkest minute of the night, she knew she would find the courage to wake up; the strength to go and tell the police everything; the strength to betray William and disappear from his life forever; resigned from any prospect of happiness, or at least peace, forever. She looked at the smiling faces with hostility; they could convey no feeling to her. They were strangers to her. She sat up on her bed. She wanted to be left alone, to be away from them as soon as possible.
Before she could make any other movement however, her mother’s hands were firm upon her shoulders, keeping her on the bed and Jane handed her a letter.
“Lizzy, all will be fine. This is from William.”
Elizabeth grabbed the paper with the intention of tearing it, but her mother stopped her again.
“Lots of things have happened while you were sleeping, my dear. Things are turning for the better, trust us.”
“No, no you don’t understand! I have to…” Elizabeth said in an anxious voice. “You don’t understand; there are things I know… and that… Please, leave me alone!” She shouted.
At this moment Paul Bennet and Teresa chose to walk in.
“Hey sleepy head, woke up finally?” Her father said with the utmost tenderness, gaining only an angry look from his beloved daughter.
“We have confused our girl, suffocating her like this and offering no explanation.” Teresa said, smiling encouragingly. “Elise, we are here because we know what happened last night. But you don’t have to do anything anymore. William decided to reveal everything himself.”
At this, Elizabeth stilled. She didn’t know what to make of it. Even though she had wished for a miracle, she had no expectation of salvation. How William had learnt the truth; how he had made such a decision was beyond her. Her slight hope soon turned into a certainty that her relatives were talking about something different than what was presently torturing her.
“You’ll know everything soon.” Teresa continued. “Read the letter and then come to the sitting room. There is something you must see. Now, shouldn’t we give our girl some space?”
Jane dreaded her mother’s reaction but instead she heard her saying, “You’re right Teresa. We must have made her feel dizzy. Janey, will you stay with her? We’ll be waiting for you in the sitting room.”
Jane nodded as Elizabeth watched silently. She believed that she was still sleeping, and going through one of those nightmares where everyone appears and talks to her but she cannot utter any answer.
“You feel ok?” Jane asked her as soon as they were alone.
“Yes, I do.” Elizabeth looked at her hands which were still holding the note tightly and she began to read it.
My dearest Elizabeth,I know what happened yesterday. I know the whole truth. Richard’s bodyguard happened to be at the pub and managed to record the whole conversation. My love, I can feel your pain now. Let me share it. It is mine too. Do not despair, do not mourn. We are together in this. I am not leaving you ever again.
My darling, you know that there is no need for a decision. There is only one way to deal with what we have learned and we both know which this is. You have not failed me; you could never betray me. I could never admire you more, respect you more or love you more than the moment I heard your talk with the monster.
As you are reading this, I am giving a press conference, telling all the truth. Don’t worry, my love, the traitors have been found and they cannot harm us anymore. As for Pemberley, my family and my father, I want justice, nothing more. It is time for this circle to close. This cannot give us any pain; it can only be an incentive for us to start something new; together.
I am not afraid of the “sharks ready to eat me” as you call some of your less favorite colleagues. I am doing the right thing and I know you are with me in this. I am not alone; nothing burdens my heart.
Nothing shadows my day. Because I know that this will soon be over and then our demons will stop hunting us forever. And I will finally be able to love you without any reserve, any impediment, giving every bit of my body and soul to you to take care of.
You have saved me, Elizabeth. Never doubt it. Never forget it.
I love you.
William
Elizabeth had not realized that she was crying until she felt Jane’s hand drying her tears.
“Oh Jane,” she said, not trying to stop the flood cascading down her cheeks, “never had I imagined that so much love could bring so much pain.”
“Read more carefully, sweetie.” Was Jane’s simple reply.
“Have you read it as well?”
“No, Lizzy, but I have talked to William.”
“How is he?” Elizabeth asked quickly. Suddenly she felt an elementary need to see him, to talk to him, to read his heart in his eyes. To know if he suffered, if he was angry, if he had faced the news with surprise or hatred; and most of all, whether he still loved her. The letter’s reassurances seemed trifling; she lacked patience to read carefully. She didn’t need a piece of paper; she needed his eyes; she needed him!
“Determined. Calm. Not suffering anymore. I have seen him suffering, Lizzy. On Christmas day, when you disappeared and he thought that he had lost you. I can tell the difference. He is peaceful now. So, take a better look and find what he feels and what the letter makes you feel.” Jane winked.
While reading the letter for the second time, a smile accompanied and brightened Elizabeth’s tearful eyes; she could hear his voice whispering to her, she could feel his heart beating in sweet tandem with hers – she could feel his love. She trusted him; she trusted herself. The bond with him, so deep and strong made the deeper chords of her soul vibrate, flowing like medicine over the scars Wickham’s cruelty had left last night; healing.
“I am a very lucky woman.” She said to her sister.
“You are both lucky to have found each other.” Jane answered, lightly pushing back a lock of hair that fell on her sister’s brow. “Now, come admire your handsome man on TV.”
CHAPTER 15
Posted on Wednesday, 1 February 2006
Many times during William’s press conference, Elizabeth felt the urge to attack her TV screen. She could sense some journalists’ wish to trap him in any way possible: to unnerve him, to make him lose his patience, to take advantage of his weaknesses and ridicule him, humble him or both. The hostility that no one had dared to show when he was on the top, was now displayed in many former friends’ faces. She was disgusted and angry. But she also knew very well that these were the rules of the game.
William however stood dignified, strong as a rock and ready to repel all the ill-natured attacks. Elizabeth noticed his cool, detached countenance. He is wearing his armor, she thought and gained a little strength.
“Mr. Darcy, it is clear now that your father committed a crime for which he was never punished. How would you have reacted if he were still alive?”
Damn the stupid, insensitive rascal who asked this! Who was it? Oh yes, Gilson! The idiot who hated Darcy for not hiring him at Pemberley.
Her mother squeezed her hand and Teresa whispered to her.
“Have faith in him. He can make it.”
Elizabeth thought that it was somewhat surreal to see her mother forming an alliance with Teresa; she was grateful for the support all the same. She smiled faintly, as she waited anxiously for William’s reply.
“Mr. Gilson, my father is dead. I agree with you that he committed a crime, which causes the same degree of indignation to me as it does to you. As his son, I had the chance to witness that he did possess humanity, but obviously he was not strong enough. It is neither my intention nor my wish to attempt to justify him or his actions.”
“Have you forgiven him?”
The cad! He persisted!
“My forgiveness is of little importance. I was not the victim in this case.”
“Won’t the Darcy name be a heavy burden for you to carry?”
Elizabeth swore under her breath. All the journalists continued the questions in Gilson’s manner.
“I am not ashamed of who I am.”
“So, you’re still proud of the famous Darcy family tradition?”
“It depends on which aspects of this ‘tradition’ you are referring to. I am proud to be the son of Anne Darcy, who never changed her name. However, I admit to being shocked when I discovered the truth about my father – and I beg you to remember that this was only a few hours ago. However, if my feelings or my family’s ‘tradition,’ as you call it, were more important to me than the truth, I wouldn’t be standing here talking to you, ladies and gentlemen.”
“What are you planning to do with Pemberley, Mr. Darcy?”
“Pemberley is neither a man’s creation nor a man’s property. The fate of the corporation cannot be decided in a day, or solely by one person. I can talk only of my hopes. But I can assure you that the members of the board and I agree on values, aims, and priorities. I am proud of what Pemberley now represents. I am proud to be its CEO. I will continue to be, as long as I will not be asked to compromise my beliefs to keep my position.”
Fanny clapped instinctively and Elizabeth leaned over and kissed her spontaneously. Mother and daughter smiled at each other, acknowledging that they had at least one thing in common: their adoration for William Darcy.
“He is very, very handsome, Lizzy.” Fanny said with genuine admiration. Elizabeth nodded, feeling unexpectedly embarrassed. “Oh yes,” her mother continued, oblivious to Elizabeth’s slight discomfort. “Perfect face, perfect angles – such eyes! The chin, look at the chin!”
“Mother!” Elizabeth hissed.
“Oh, she is right.” Jane decided that her sister could bear a little more teasing. “And we can never forget the voice.” Charles coughed but Jane whispered to him. “There is only one face and one voice that I care about. I think you know whom they belong to.” Fanny, of course, had not heard Jane’s clarification and went on singing William’s praises.
“Oh, yes, the voice. Such a deep baritone. Like flowing honey, isn’t it?”
“Oh,” Elizabeth’s cheeks were crimson red, and she was torn between laughing, censuring, or ignoring her mother. She turned a pleading face to Teresa in hopes of finding some understanding, but her hopes were shattered by the amusement on her friend’s face. “You are not letting me hear what he’s saying.” She said sullenly in the end.
Charles’ cell phone started ringing and Elizabeth heaved a sigh of relief as she and her gorgeous man stopped being the center of attention. Charles, to his very bad luck, made the mistake of picking up the phone without looking at the ID.
“Hello? Oh Caroline…” Elizabeth rolled her eyes. “What? Can you lower your voice, please? Yes, I knew…don’t shout at me. No, nothing is over…What’s your concern anyway?”
“Her intended proved to be a bit too conscientious for her.” Elizabeth whispered to Jane and she giggled.
“No, Caroline, I did not warn him…No, I am supporting him in this. I don’t care what you think… Have an apoplexy if you like. I told you, I don’t care about your wretched plans. Are you trying to make me feel sorry for you? I don’t know…Don’t scream – go out and find another millionaire.” Then, looking at Elizabeth and regaining some of his good humor, Charles continued: “I had told you it was a waste of time, Caro.” He smirked. “No, I don’t think this will make Will suffer too much… He was never yours. Belonged elsewhere from the beginning… Thank you, I hate you too. Bye.” He hung up and winked at a pleasantly surprised Jane.
“Well, I must remember to announce Caroline’s decision to Will when I see him next…” He said feigning contrition.
“Which is?” Fanny was certain that she didn’t like this Caroline a bit.
“Let me recall the exact phrasing…She doesn’t want to have anything to do with a loser like him. – That’s what she said.”
Fanny felt very relieved that Caroline didn’t represent a danger. Jane wanted to ask Charles if there had ever anything between his sister and William, but was afraid to do so in Elizabeth’s presence. Charles however read the question in her eyes.
“Of course she never had anything with him… At least not in the real world… I am ashamed to think how many delusions my sister has.”
Jane, despite her innate goodness, discovered that she liked this harsh-but-just side of Charles’ personality quite well.
Elizabeth redirected her attention to the press conference.
“Did you have any suspicions about what was going on?”
“None at all, I am afraid. I owe everything to a journalist Pemberley has the honor to employ. She has insisted and persisted despite the discouragement and the threats she received. Without her efforts and her self-sacrifice nothing would have been achieved.” A small, private smile formed on his lips; few people among his audience were able to discern it and even fewer could decipher it. “Ladies and gentlemen, allow me to express my gratitude to Miss Elizabeth Bennet.”
Everyone in the sitting room simultaneously turned their gazes to Elizabeth, waiting for her reaction. However, she didn’t trust herself even to look at anyone, much less to speak. Her mother, naturally, could not bear to be passive for long, so she grasped her daughter’s shoulders almost violently and cried: “My Lizzy, you are famous! You are famous!”
“She has been a well-known and respected journalist for quite a long time.” Charles offered softly.
“Yes, but now her name is mentioned on TV!” Fanny exclaimed triumphantly, confirming that certain things about people never change.
The press conference was heading towards its end.
“What will happen to George Wickham?”
“I contacted the police as soon as I learned of this. I believe they are in search of him as we are speaking, if he has not been already arrested. I trust that the justice system will give him the punishment he deserves.”
“Don’t you personally feel a need for revenge?” Gilson asked again and Elizabeth imagined how he was planning to trap William.
“Mr. Gilson, I believe I was very clear in defining Pemberley’s present leading values as well as my beliefs. But I will repeat them for your benefit. Unlike my predecessors, I trust the institutions. I want nothing more than justice.”
“So, Mr. Darcy it seems that you are above the elementary human need for revenge.” The journalist’s tone was clearly ironic.
“I am very proud that I am above primitive instincts, Mr. Gilson. This incident is finished as far as I am concerned. I simply provided the police with all the clues I could find, not repeating my father’s omission – his crime as you rightly called it.”
“And now talk if you can, you ugly, evil, pig-headed ass!” Fanny exclaimed vengefully, and Elizabeth found her mother’s description of the annoying Mr. Gilson very accurate – and very much to her liking.
William sat amidst the buzz, the lights of the cameras, the cries and subdued whispers of the reporters, the photographers, the employees and stared at everything and nothing. He had finished, finally; he had found out and revealed all the secrets. His life’s mysteries had unraveled before his eyes and the questions that had tortured him for years had received answers.
What was his reaction to such an important transition? To these events that were taking his life and career to a whole new level? To the possibility that Pemberley could close forever? He had to force himself to think about all this seriously, because suddenly everything seemed very trifling and unimportant; almost ridiculous.
William Darcy had allowed his foolish pride and his foolish misconceptions to blind him, tangle him in a conspiracy that he had unwillingly supported all these years. He had thought that he was wise and held all the answers; that he could decide what was important and what was not; that he could judge and condemn; his father, his mother; people he didn’t really know and had never cared to learn more about.
He had remained in that detached ‘throne’ of his for years, above feeling, above weakness, above love. He had refused to say the word love, hadn’t he? Oh yes, he now recalled better. William Darcy did not believe in love. A chuckle escaped him; it was bitter. He had thought that he knew better than the rest, hadn’t he? The masses, the daft people who trust utopias and chimeras, hadn’t they always been his first object of contempt? Open, displayed, disgusting contempt. What kind of god did he think he was, inventing and exorcising thoughts and feelings?
Have you forgiven him?
Poor Gilson, he was trying to get a statement from him; to show the rest of the world how arrogant this Darcy was. Gilson knew it; everyone sensed it. No one had ever told him to his face, but that didn’t change the fact. What had William’s intelligence really served then? Making him appear a real fool. A haughty, cold fool. Gilson was so close to the truth that it hurt. The echo was screaming in William’s mind:
Who are you to forgive?
I don’t know! I don’t have the answers! I don’t know what happened; and I may never learn. My father could have been a scoundrel, a coward, a self centered husband or simply an indifferent man. I never cared to look better. And now he’s dead! Dead! Who was he? Who was my mother? Strangers… They are strangers to me; I never tried to change that.
Then it was clear; but this time was harder than he had expected.
You have to forgive yourself.
He had never faced such a task before. Maybe he was too busy condemning the others. Or perhaps…Could it be possible that he had spent thirty-four years of existence punishing himself? He had been refusing his own self-comfort and affection. He had lived alone in his cold kingdom, content with the belief that he knew better than the rest. Then he laughed again, at himself.
You won’t feign the martyr now, Darcy, will you?
It wasn’t easy. There were no simple answers; his favorite, when business was concerned, drastic measures were not at hand this time. He was disoriented; lost.
Then Elizabeth’s face appeared out of nowhere. It was teary, despaired and angry. He had seen that face in the past, if only he could recall when.... He gasped, as he realized where the vision came from. It was the day he proposed; the day he made one blunder after the other. The day he had been more horrible than ever in his failures, making her go. She had told him that they were over. But what had she said before?
“I love you Will. Make me stay.”
She had loved him, even then. He could not think of his behavior without shame or abhorrence on that night, but she loved him. Where had she found that strength? The courage to say the words, to look him in the eye, to fight a battle that was lost? When everything went wrong, when she felt betrayed, and insulted and hurt, she still made an effort to keep what she knew was precious to both. She could see the beauty when surrounded by ugliness. She could see the good in him, and bring it out. No, she didn’t hold all the answers. No, she was not simply a means of relief. Besides, at that moment something had broken in her; he had heard it in her voice. He had sensed her despair and he could feel her world as it was collapsing. Now she needed support and devotion, so she could learn once again to trust and love.
This time, however, it was not a fight she had to wage by herself. She needed him as much as he needed her. They had all the time they wanted to face the challenge.
Lost in thought, William had not realized that he was being accosted by his relatives. They still could not relax after what happened. So, they were trying to release the energy accumulated in them during the night by talking in a very lively manner. He heard Alex praising his sister, and then Richard’s laughter.
“Sweet to us, but to her enemies…She’s more like her brother than I had thought. Cousins, I don’t think anyone will ever try to harm you again. Especially you, Anna – you really surprised me. ”
“She’s not the only surprise of the day.” Monika said quietly. “I could swear that you were another person this morning when we visited your parents.”
Richard turned and looked at her in a way that made his cousins feel like intruders.
“Perhaps I have changed.” He said softly.
Monika was ready to answer, when Michael interrupted. “Yes, son, you have changed. I used to think you were completely incorrigible.” Richard choked. “Now I have changed my mind… About the completely part.”
William only nodded, barely registering parts of the discussion in his mind, which was occupied elsewhere. He decided to excuse himself. Georgina had been stronger than he would have imagined, proving one more time how much he had underestimated the woman his sister had become. He decided that he would not lie to himself any longer. It was evident that his little sister was not in need of him anymore. She could be a loyal friend to him, supporter, counselor; his equal and not the frightened, vulnerable little girl he always considered her. He looked forward to this development of their relationship.
It was not his sister who needed him by her side; it was Elizabeth. He wanted to get to her side as soon as possible. Before he could leave the group however, another man came close. It was the inspector who had been put in charge of the case. Fatigue was evident on his face, making him appear much older than he actually was. A great number of tiny wrinkles surrounded his eyes, and dark circles appeared underneath them, proving that, like almost everyone who had remained in the room, he had gotten very little sleep that night. However, a faint smile lit his face.
“We’ve got him.” He announced in a low voice. “Wickham is under arrest.”
No one spoke, and every hint of a smile disappeared from their faces. William’s eyes must have been darker than usual, Richard’s fists were perhaps clenched, and Georgiana did not manage to control the trembling of her jaw as successfully as she would have liked; but, otherwise, no one betrayed any real feeling to the news. Wickham’s arrest seemed to be the final act of the play. However, it was too soon to judge the outcome.
Alex first broke the silence, proposing to treat everyone with coffee. Only Georgiana accepted the offer, and they took leave of the rest, arm in arm, Georgiana’s head leaning slightly on his shoulders. The rest watched them go with a smile. Michael likewise departed, accompanied by his loving wife, whose anxious eyes had not left his face throughout the whole morning.
Richard turned his anxious eyes to Monika and said simply:
“You are exhausted.”
“I could use some sleep,” she answered, adding with something akin to tenderness, “So could you.”
“Go home, you two.” William said, trying not to smile too openly.
“Won’t you come with us, Will? You do not look very well, you know.”
“No, it’s ok. You know I won’t be able to relax until I have talked with Elizabeth. I’ll see you later. And, guys... Thanks. Thanks for everything.”
“He’s coming by.” Charles announced after hanging up the phone.
Elizabeth could hear her heart thumping.
“Why didn’t he call me? Is anything wrong? Oh, Charles, why didn’t you pass him to me?”
“Calm down, Elizabeth.” Charles said reassuringly. “Nothing is wrong; you will see that for yourself. He didn’t know if you had woken up yet and he will be here in a few minutes. Which reminds me, the rest of us are leaving.”
Paul opened his mouth to protest, but one meaningful look from Teresa and he changed his mind. Jane started collecting her things, but Fanny remained rooted to the spot.
“Mum,” came Jane’s pleading voice.
“Just give me two minutes with Lizzy. Wait for me in the car, please.”
Strangely, her earnest tone convinced the others who relented to her request. As Paul was leaving, he spoke again, hesitatingly :
“In case you need anything, Elise…”
“She will be fine, Paul, let’s go.” Teresa stopped him from turning back.
Elizabeth sat staring at her mother.
“A good woman, Teresa, isn’t she? I like her very much.” Fanny commented nervously. She probably noticed Elizabeth’s astonishment, because she added, almost apologetically, “She will make your father very happy.”
“Sorry?”
“To think that I wanted you to marry Collins!” Fanny exclaimed afterwards.
“Mum, are you ok?”
“Yes, yes, quite alright. Look, Lizzy, we haven’t that much of time, and there are so many things I want to say…”
“We can talk another time...” Elizabeth offered.
“Would you like that? To have a long talk with me sometime?” Fanny sounded anxious.
“I’d love that, mum.” Elizabeth smiled.
“You are a good girl, Lizzy. I always wanted all that was best for you. But you were so…different… I never had any idea what was best for you.” She looked at her hands. “I thought marriage would be good. That’s why I insisted, but…” She paused, unable to continue for some moments. “Never mind, just promise me that you will forget that I ever suggested Collins to you, ok?”
Elizabeth nodded; bewildered, amused, touched.
“However, and even though I know that ‘the mother’s instinct’ was not very… right in your case, I do think that this man is the best for you. He is rich, of course…”
“Mother!” Elizabeth sighed.
“No, I didn’t mean that. It’s good to be rich, of course; however…The best part is that he loves you. He has done everything to… to… save you.”
Elizabeth opened her mouth to speak but closed it again.
“Too cliché, the saving part, right Lizzy?” Her mother smiled knowingly. “Anyway, he called at least twenty times and even asked to speak to me. Can you believe that, Lizzy? He wanted to ask me if I, as your mother, thought that you were sleeping peacefully.”
Elizabeth had a really hard time imagining that conversation; but she would not doubt her mother’s words now. There was tenderness and sincerity in her voice. It whispered to her heart, easing her fears, making her feel cared for and loved. As for William, her whole soul was craving him now; she couldn’t wait for the moment she could see him again, and tell him everything that had been pent up deep with within her.
“So, Lizzy, I guess we’ll talk another time. But I wanted you to know all this. Call me when you feel like it, ok?”
“I will, mum.”
“We’ll be at Jane’s now. I called Charlotte; she’ll join us there. We’ll… No, you are probably not interested in our lunch plans.”
Elizabeth silently agreed. Fanny opened the door, but before she left, she turned back.
“Oh, Lizzy, I almost forgot. He must be exhausted. You know you must take care of him, right?”
“I will, mum.”
Elizabeth had not enough time to ponder over the whole exchange with her mother, as her doorbell rang again less than five minutes later. Her initial anxiety, which the conversation with Fanny had temporarily sent away, came back full force, making her heart beat faster and faster. Her mind seemed ready to explode and it felt like she had lost the ability to command her limbs. Her fingers had a moment’s trouble with the handle before she managed to finally push the door wide open.
He stood there, well dressed, clean-shaven, and as charming as he had appeared in the interview. However, the seemingly confident but detached look she had witnessed on the screen was now replaced by a darker, more intense gaze, intended for her only. He watched her carefully, not even smiling, not coming close; he was giving her time, space and the chance to decide what she wanted, what would be the best for her.
The accentuated corners of her face worried him; she had clearly not recovered from the ordeal of the previous night. He knew that this time, he had to be strong for both of them. He had to start; he had to be wise for her sake. He wished with all his heart that he knew how he could take care of her best; how he could make her move past the event that had marked her; how he could convince her to trust herself and make a new beginning, with him.
But suddenly she was there, in his arms, clinging to him as if her life depended on him, burying her face in his shoulders. He needed no more strength; no more reassurance. Elizabeth in his arms was all the incentive and all the reward he ever wanted, for all the fights of his life. He stood still, just holding her, as she tightened her grip on him. The feel of her body against his was heavenly; it worked its unique effect on him, answering his needs but giving birth to more urgent desire; sweetness that turned to fire, fire transforming to tenderness and then fireworks: that was what Elizabeth was. He felt he could stay there, with her, forever. A few moments later, however, he forced his mind to work and he picked her up, placing her decidedly on the couch, where he sat by her. Her face was still hidden in his shoulder and her voice came muffled, but his ears could never fail to distinguish her words.
“I thought I would lose you; lose you, Will.”
“I am not going anywhere. I am here, Elizabeth. With you, always.” He kept repeating. The moment that he heard Elizabeth’s voice, still holding the echo of insecurity and despair, all his doubts and fears vanished. He knew what he had to do; he knew what was best for her. Embracing her even more tightly, he whispered words of love and reassurance in her ear; words, sounds and caresses invented for her, special and unique; a profession of perfect devotion that only she could hear and understand.
His confidence had its affect on Elizabeth. She felt everything finally fall in place. Despite her exhaustion, physical and mental, she could feel the hope for a new life that was taking shape that very moment. What Wickham had killed inside her was slowly coming back to life. A tormented spirit, shattered beliefs, trust and love, everything that used to give meaning to her existence were now waking up again. Slowly, but surely.
William loosened their embrace and pushed her back slightly, so that he could look into her eyes.
“Let it go, my love. Let it go. Cry. I am here.” His hand moved across her face and then dove into her hair adoringly. His eyes were soft upon her, watching the flow of tears in her eyes which would not stop. His movements were unhurried; his face was telling her that she would have as much time as she needed to heal.
She made an effort to check herself, but to no avail. Sobs overtook her as she attempted to speak. William’s hand moved to her lips, silencing her. “I understand, Liz. Don’t rush yourself. We have all the time in the world.” Her eyes met his instantly; it was the first time he had called her Liz. It felt familiar; once more, it felt right. Each moment that passed, the bond between them became stronger. She surrendered to her emotions; with William she was free to be herself, he helped her find and understand herself. She was not afraid that she would be swept away in the flood of feelings; Will was her anchor, which brought steadiness to her life and at the same moment took her to the skies.
“It’s ridiculous.” She finally managed to say, smiling through her teary eyes. “I am weeping here while I am… happy,” she said simply.
His lips curved a little, and then more. A smile formed slowly on his mouth, then spread to his eyes, giving them light and removing the traces of fatigue.
“Are you?” The smile was evident in his voice too.
“Yes. You are here, and you know the truth and I don’t have to…to do what I had to.”
“Decide?” He suggested.
Her face suddenly turned grim. “Will, only the truth between us, right?”
“Only the truth, my love.” His hand resumed stroking her hair.
“My decision, Will, was…”
Once more his fingers were on her lips.
“Hush, Elizabeth. I know what it was. There is only one way the woman I love above my own life would react to such information. You wouldn’t be my Elizabeth if you decided not to reveal the truth.”
“And now?”
“Now, you are my Elizabeth and I certainly hope that you consider me your William.”
She moved her face closer to his, until she could feel his warm breath on her cheeks. His eyes were not leaving hers, inquiring, as her lips lingered upon his. They were ever so soft, but teasing, tantalizing; barely touching him and then making an attempt to leave. However, he moved fast, and he captured her before she could withdraw. Nipping her lower lip, tenderly at first but then more and more passionately he worked hard to make her lose herself. And, exactly at the moment when she wanted him to invade her, to taste her until she had memorized each and every small part of his mouth again, he drew back and smiled wickedly.
“You pass, sir.” She said with mock graveness. “You are truly my Will. No one toys with me like this and gets away with it.” Her hands slipped around his neck and then moved to his back, pressing him tightly against her.
“I am very relieved to hear it.” He did not return her teasing tone; he seemed very serious and Elizabeth could detect the slightest hints of insecurity.
“Did you ever doubt it?” She moved back and gazed at him with such tenderness he thought his heart would stop.
“You know, I am not such a good catch anymore. My influence is by now non-existent, I guess; Pemberley may close soon and my name is almost disgraced. I think that you would be very much justified to reject me now.” He said with a smile, trying to make light of it, but she still had the impression that something was hurting him, so she replied very earnestly.
“I was a fool to ever hurt you, Will. But I was never enough of a fool to stop loving you. I can safely promise that I will never be so stupid as to let you go.”
His hands cupped her face, bringing it to the same eye level as hers. “Good,” he said almost inaudibly, “because I have no intention of moving from your side.” His lips brushed hers lightly. She felt a completely irrational embarrassment, as if they were starting anew. She giggled nervously and he chuckled. “Is it tears or laughter, Miss Bennet? Can I cause no other feeling?” He lifted an eyebrow. She felt completely free to surrender to him and then reciprocate; assaulting his senses with a passion she had always checked before. There was no more reserve, no questions, no reasons why she should step back, why she should not show him what he meant to her; what importance he had obtained in her life. There were no more impediments. They had faced the maliciousness of the world and had learnt to trust themselves and each other.
His hands moved across her cheeks, every finger a spring of liquid fire. Suddenly, they located the wound, still so fresh. There was a battle inside him, reason against surrendering to passion. But his reason, supported by his worry for her prevailed. With a final groan, he retreated. They sat facing each other, taking deep breaths. They had completely neglected the need for air in the haze they had abandoned themselves to.
His attention returned to the wound on her cheek. He looked at it carefully for a moment, seemingly puzzled; then he understood.
“My love, how much pain…” She didn’t let him finish.
“It doesn’t matter anymore, Will.”
“Yes, it does. My mark on you… It was I who tortured you last night, Elizabeth.”
“No, it was the fear that I would lose you,” she answered simply.
“It’s my fault. I didn’t make you feel…” Her lips placed a feathery kiss on his and again, she stopped him.
“No, no. Listen to me, Will.” Her palm stroked his cheeks. “You changed my world so completely, so irrevocably, so magically that I have never deemed possible. Yes, I was devastated at the prospect of being parted from you. But even at that hour of utter, absolute despair your mark was there.” His fingers were still on her wounded cheek. Her palm covered his, pressing it against her face even harder. “I tried to remove it, scratch it. I couldn’t do it Will, for you’re far deeper in me than a mark on my skin. Stupidly I have denied it, but it is true. There is nothing I can do about it, but… There is nothing I want to do about it.”
His lips were everywhere at the same moment; her brow, her cheeks, her nose, her earlobes, her own lips, her jaw, her neck, brushing every part of her in kisses, whispering I love you against every molecule of her skin, until she was all burning with his marked professions. She surrendered to the wonderful sensation he evoked, thinking that nothing in her life had ever felt as right as her love for William.
His lips returned to hers again. Before taking them on yet another wonderful journey, he whispered:
“You make me happy.”
She lost herself in his kiss again, the echo of that simple phrase playing again and again in her mind, making her heart want to smile. Tangled in the passionate vein, she could not speak. Her hands caressed his shoulders and then, with the uppermost tenderness, moved up to his neck and massaged it softly before they attacked his hair, earning another low moan from him. She drew back to look deeply into his eyes, before saying:
“I love you, William. Above anyone and anything.”
“How can I return such a gift, my precious girl?” He whispered, caressing her shoulders.
“Love me back.”
“You know I love you; more than life, Elizabeth.” His answer should not have shocked her, but his earnestness sent shivers down her spine. She regarded him closely, to remember exactly how he looked on one of the happier moments of their lives. Their beginning. Only then did she notice that his eyes were almost red, and the dark circles underneath them became more evident. The passion was there too, and he was probably trying too hard to be strong. Elizabeth remembered her mother’s advice about taking care of him and, for the first time in her life, marveled at its wisdom.
“Alright, Will, you have won me.” She smiled at him.
“And what a prize you are…” He mumbled as he leaned in to kiss her again. His passion was creating more and more desire in her. Her body was aching for him; was begging to be his, to belong to him, forever. Her hands, out of their own will, moved to caress the nape of his neck, then they loosened his tie and undid the upper button of his shirt. A groan escaped him as he felt her fingers invade the flesh of his torso. They were losing control, again. And this was not what she was aiming at. With great effort, she pulled back and commanded her hands to obey her and leave his perfect chest. To reward them, she allowed her fingers to entwine with his. Their contact filled them both with warmth, a short preview of all the glorious paths of intimacy they could explore together. She smiled.
“The prize has a request of its beholder.”
“The beholder could never deny his prize anything.” He answered gallantly, stroking her thumb with his, creating such intense feelings with such a simple move that she feared she would become distracted again. She wanted him, at that moment. But this was special, she could feel it. And her instinct told her to wait. She looked at his tired face and saw the tiny wrinkles behind his dark gaze. Tenderness for him became the only feeling she was aware of. Her decision was not difficult anymore.
“Sleep in my lap.”
“I beg your pardon?” Clearly, he had not expected this.
“Will, loving someone is also about knowing what they need – better than they know themselves.”
He smiled knowingly. “Do I look that exhausted?” A trace of guilt appeared on his face.
“Yes, you do. I want to take good care of you. Mum’s orders.”
He chuckled. “I thought you never listened to your mother.”
“That was before we found a very strong, common point.”
“What is it?”
“That we both adore you.”
“Have I told you how much I like your family, Liz?”
She was not sure if he was speaking in jest or not.
“Really,” he continued, “all of them. Even Jane, who, let’s face it, has rather hostile tendencies towards me.” They both burst out laughing.
“Ok, you are not getting away with jokes, clever boy,” she said as soon as her mirth would let her. “Sleep, and I will be here when you will wake up. I won’t stir.”
“And no… attempts to persuade you to change your mind will work?”
“Oh, believe me. It will take very little effort to convince me to do anything if you look at me like this.” He leaned in to kiss her, but she moved her head and his lips caressed the line of her jaw. It was enough to make her voice tremble slightly as she added: “But you love me too much to oppose my will.”
He smiled resignedly. “That’s not playing fair.”
“And the way you kiss is fair?”
“I could say the same of you.” She pouted and he chuckled. “Alright, alright, I’ll do as you wish. But I warn you, Liz. When I wake up, I will be a very rested man.”
Elizabeth’s heart started beating wildly at the implication, but she chose not to show it. However the smug look on his face proved that he could read her feelings far too well. They adjusted their position and he lay encircled by her body and arms. His features relaxed; the tiny wrinkles vanished and the lines on his face showed to their best advantage. But suddenly, his jaw tensed and Elizabeth noticed that he had clenched his fists. He opened his eyes and spoke.
“You do know that I lied during the press conference, don’t you, Liz?”
“You lied?” Her voice came strained.
“Yes.” He stated firmly. “About Wickham. The truth is that I will beat him to death if I have a chance.”
She made no reply; the wounds were still too fresh and she didn’t want to go back to that memory – not yet. She was tired of this circle of pain and revenge, but strangely, his words did not upset her. On the contrary, she found shelter in the very madness of the idea.
“I will never, never let anyone hurt you as much as he did, Elizabeth.”
“I know, Will. Now sleep,” she whispered.
As he closed his eyes, a small smile remained on his face. It was the same smile she wore as she watched him until she fell asleep as well.