Page 7 of Until My Last Breath

“…think about you and the gift of being genuinely happy with a wife you can admire, and love.”

Darcy had not gone that far — yet. His main intention at the moment was to clarify her misunderstandings about his character.

Nothing more.

Well…

Perhaps that was not entirely true. Richard’s words kept echoing in his mind, his heart always skipping a beat.

Could it be possible?

He marrying Elizabeth?

As Darcy lost himself in that strange and conflicting contentment, prompting his horse into a gentle canter, he became aware of something he had never noticed before; Rosings Park was indeed a beautiful place. Far away from the great manor, where the surroundings had been artificially modified accordingly to his aunt’s particular taste, the beauty of the green meadows, spotted with different dots, were a feast for the eyes. Daffodils, dandelions and delicate primroses, daisies and violets covered the land up to where the horizon touched the sky.

Damned his perceptive cousin!

The sight of a pink silhouette wavering in the distance brought Darcy’s heart to a frenetic rhythm. He slowed his horse to a trot and drew closer.

Yes, it was her, her back turned to him. He looked around, searching for Mrs Collins, but did not find her. Was Elizabeth alone?

Darcy brought his horse to a halt, cogitating whether he should go and talk to her. After their reencounter a week ago, and despite his many struggles, he found himself enslaved by thoughts of her, of how it would be having her as his wife, mistress of Pemberley, having the right to hold her in his arms; kiss her…

He stopped his thoughts before they could go too far.

He could not deny it; he was infatuated with Elizabeth. He had tried, and failed, to forget her. It did not mean, however, that he could easilyforget his obligations to his name, or to his family, or her family circumstances. Even if he had the opportunity to explain what happened between him and Wickham, her family would still remain the same.

It would not do. Perhaps it had been for better their separation. During that time, he had been able to see things more clearly. Infatuated or not, her family was still a great disappointment. Despite coming from a traditional family from Hertfordshire, the Bennets had no important connections in the ton. But above all, the mother and the two younger sisters were too vulgar. It would be a nightmare to receive such a family in his townhouse. He began to imagine the reaction of his uncle, Lord Matlock, or even Lady Catherine, sharing refreshments in the drawing room with the boisterous Mrs Bennet and Miss Lydia.

Doubts. Doubts!

Darcy groaned, turning his horse to leave, shaking his head remembering his ungenerous thoughts about Bingley and his fickle nature. As it seemed, he was not much better after all. But unlike Bingley, he had his position in life to consider. In his case, the dismissal of an unsuitable spouse was not just reasonable; it was necessary. He would—

“Mr Darcy!” Elizabeth called out. “You have not yet dismounted and are already leaving? I hope you are not afraid of me.”

He looked back at her and frowned.

The minx!

Elizabeth had been standing at her easel, painting, when she heard a horse approaching. And there he was. Shoulders stiffened; lips and brows pressed together. But then, he was turning as if to go away. Before she knew what she was doing, she had shouted the challenging words, and his frown had only deepened.

A wave of heat rose from her stomach blushing all the way up to the roots of her hair, creating a huge blur of red. Too embarrassed for her own good, she returned to the painting and pretended to resume her work.

Darcy took a couple of deep breaths. She had shouted to him — challenged him. Why should she be so infuriatingly… enticing? Her impertinence and spontaneity, despite being considered unfitting for a lady, were strangely invigorating to him.

“I would say, sir, your hypothesis that women are not as intelligent as men — and for this reason we do not have many famous women in history — can be also used in the opposite way. Famous men are usually associated with war, destruction and death: Alexander the Great, Nero and Napoleon for instance… Is that what you are calling intellectual superiority?”

Yes, that discussion in Bingley’s library had been… enlightening. Miss Elizabeth, despite not coming from a fancy family of the ton, was surprisingly well educated and had no intention of keeping quiet. And yet, Darcy could not find fault in this. In fact, it was one of the things he really admired about her. His wealth had no consequence to her. Their verbal fencing had always been annoyingly refreshing, and that one, on the very first day, had not disappointed. It almost caused him to break out in a sweat.

He could only be truly mad. And then he smiled, looking back at the meadows.

Spring and daffodils.

Darcy dismounted, and as if working on their own volition, his feet took him to the lady who had disturbed his perfect life. He always had everything under control: finances, properties, schedule and thoughts.

Until her.

After meeting her, he had not been able to sleep well, and even his ledgers and estate affairs had become boring. His whole life had become dull and… monochromatic.

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