If in the previous part of this chapter Bertha had a kind of revelation, in this she goes... urgh! What the heck!
What can we say to her? For every Darcy there's always a Collins, right? And a Lydia. And a Wickham. *wicked grin*
Since last week, I started to compose a crazy idea of making this story cross boundaries, don't know what goes in my head sometimes. Silly M!
Anyway, Bertha is completely, irrecocably in the hands of a charming strong-minded MP. Or is it Lizzy? Who knows at this point?...
Nine ways to live Pride and Prejudiciously
WIP, modern (mostly), adult (you know me...), fun, fluff, heart healing stuff.
read chapter 9- part I
or START from CHAPTER 1
read chapter 9- part I
or START from CHAPTER 1
CHAPTER 9
VI- Price is right _ PART II
‘Lizzy!’ He raised his voice. ‘Wait for me, prepare yourself for what is to come.’
Once her skirts had disappeared inside his house, he took a deep breath, ran a hand over his hair, pulled on his shirt and opened the door. ‘Yes?’
The two policemen stood up straighter. ‘Sir!’
‘Good morning.’
‘Good morning, Mr. Darcy.’
‘Why do you want to break into my home?’ He took a step aside and waved inviting the men to his hallway.
The policemen took off their hats, stepped inside and hid their batons behind their backs as if in a rehearsed movement. ‘I'm sorry, sir, but as you know, today is the day of the Pankhurst woman rally at Hyde Park and we have orders to clean the streets before they gather, the women activists.’
‘Even you, the Parliament police, were assigned for this diminishing job?’
‘For the surroundings of the MPs houses, sir. 10 Pemberley road is a very famous address. Some of the women might want to attack your windows or worse.’
‘Worse?’
‘They have started a fire last week.’
‘In a golf course.’ The thin older policemen spoke for the first time.
Darcy shot up his eyebrows. ‘I wasn't informed of that.’
‘But you should be careful, sir. You published a chronicle against them, have been known to speak the truth about the silliness of this idea, it is very likely you will be a target.’
‘Maybe one could pretend to be your friend but in reality, want to stab you on the back.’ The older one pressed his eyes.
‘We're not in Rome, sir, and I am not Cesar.’
‘We saw a woman enter your house.’
‘No, you didn't.’
‘Yes, we did!’ The older one took his baton out and held it against his chest.
‘We had been chasing her from the other corner, she is going to be sent to Holloway to learn about respect and rights!’
‘You didn't see because no woman entered my house today.’ Darcy insisted.
The policemen smiled. ‘Oh, I see. She is not a woman, but a bawd.’
‘What did you say?’ Darcy's raised voice mingled with a cat's meow.
‘Fitz?’ Lizzy called from inside the corridor. ‘Is everything ok, dear?’
The three man eyed each other with the most diverse reactions on their faces.
‘Fitz, you're taking so long to come back and I heard you speak with someone but there's so much noise outside-’ She stopped short at the doorway. ‘Oh.’ She blinked furiously. ‘I'm sorry, dear.’
‘It's fine, darling.’ Darcy extended his hand and she took it. ‘Meet the policemen in charge of guarding the street today.’
‘Churchill, m’am.’
Boston Daily Globe, 1912 - frick pittsburgh |
‘Gentlemen, meet Elizabeth Bennet, my fiancé.’ Darcy smiled at Lizzy. ‘We are engaged to be married soon, she comes from a family of good name. You never saw her in this house today.’
‘Of course, sir.’ Both policemen answered at the same time. ‘Never, sir.’
‘I can understand if you prefer to leave and care for your duties.’ Darcy waved to the door.
A policeman nodded. ‘At this moment.’
Another policeman waved. ‘Sorry to… errr... interrupt, sir.’
‘Good day, gentlemen.’
‘Actually!’ Lizzy gasped, the men turned to her. ‘I fear you policemen will go too far on the streets to tackle the, the…’
‘Activists, madam.’
‘Yes, activists. I'd feel safer if they posted guard at the door, Fitz. To make sure no harm comes our way.’
She finished in a whisper with pleading eyes that seduced even Darcy who imagined that ought to be some sort of scheme. ‘They can't neglect their orders, darling.’
‘Oh, how dreadful...’ She pouted.
‘We'll be glad to keep your house safe, sir.’ The policeman said. ‘Good morning.’ Both put their hats on and left.
As soon as the door was closed, she let go of his hand and dropped the cat. ‘Did they leave?’
‘You asked them to stay.’
‘Good! Two less mongrels attacking us today.’ Lizzy pivoted on her toes already opening the big dressing gown's sash.
‘You will stay as well.’
‘No, I'm not!’
‘I recall you recognizing the cost of this.’
Eye to eye, he silently demanded an answer.
‘Today is a very important day for the cause, Fitzwilliam. Mrs. Pankhurst will speak to all of us. Women's Social and Political Union need me and all women to show our force at Hyde Park.’ She pointed at the general direction of the place.
‘She can be married, but not you.’
Her fine eyes widened. ‘Your feelings and wishes are still what they were last April, you are unchanged!...’
‘You are too generous to trifle with my affections, Lizzy. When you knocked on this door searching shelter from the police force exposing me to a potential scandal, you could simply leave using my back door. But what did you do, Lizzy?’
His eyes roaming her figure made her feel naked, even though her white cotton princess slip handsomely designed with lace and silk drawstrings was covered with his richly colored dressing gown. ‘I only appeared in such a dishabille because I was afraid of you.’
‘Such a charming liar...’ He said in a mocking tone. ‘If you knew what moves me, this mode of dressing, or under dressing, wouldn't be what you would have chosen.’
Disregarding his cryptic words, she shook her head. ‘I feared you might turn me in. And as I know the policemen avoid manhandling activists, this seemed appropriate.’
‘Yes, that's what I would do.’ A sneer. ‘Give another my heart’s desire.’ He mumbled. ‘Quit the half-truths, darling.’ Darcy continued in his normal voice. ‘While I distracted the policemen, instead of an easy solution, you staged an intimate situation presenting yourself in such a manner to leave nothing to imagination.’ He paused. ‘At least their imagination is satisfied, Lizzy, because mine is full with what my life should have been since you refused me. One word from you would silence me on this subject for ever, instead, you do this.’ He gesticulated. ‘What is the order you keep shouting; actions are better than explanations?’
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‘Deeds not words.’
‘Perfectly said, perfectly done, my darling. Now these two policemen will spread the word that I had my unchaperoned fiancé in a very appealing situation.’
‘You misunderstood what I said, Fitzwilliam. When I mentioned the price, I admit that for you, a former liberal MP who is openly against the suffragists, to offer shelter to woman would show incongruous. I didn’t mean to offer myself in sacrifice.’
‘To you, marriage is a form of suicide? A great sacrifice to be taken, but too great for this cause so dear to your gender.’
‘Don’t try to be uncivil with me, Fitzwilliam. A woman is not to marry a man merely because she is asked, or because he is attached to her.’
‘Genuine attachment is the best, most trusted reason for a woman to accept a man.’ He pressed his eyes showing the feelings he mentioned but also… hurt. ‘And you had that.’
‘Oh, pray! The young man is determined not to lose anything for want of asking. He will connect himself well if he can-’
‘Your mother is very worried about your ideals.’ He interrupted her trifling with heavy artillery. ‘She fears you’ll decide to live alone even though this form of living will result in destitution for both of you.’
‘What you know about my mother?’ Her eyebrows knitted together.
‘Your cousin works for my aunt, have you forgotten that? When in London, you are hosted in his house. I know everything about you, darling.’
‘Am I being kept under surveillance?’ She shouted.
‘Shsh!’ He looked to the door as if the men outside the door could hear them. ‘Let’s go inside.’ With a hand on her back, Darcy pushed her towards the dining room where the windows faced the side garden giving them privacy. ‘What are your plans, Lizzy?’
‘For today I want to go to Hyde Park and join WSPU on the protest.’ She raised her nose defiantly, arms crossed under her boobs. ‘Then I’ll keep fighting in all manners possible to me.’
‘In the streets like nameless women suffering attacks and risking imprisonment?’
‘If it is necessary.’
‘Don’t say what you don’t mean, I know you and you’re better than empty words. You consider marriage a great sacrifice, but pretend facing a dirty jail, hunger strike and forced feeding a trifle risk? No, you don’t.’
She blinked repeatedly. ‘I can fight in other manners. My father has connections. Aunt Charlotte’s father, Sir Lucas, says he can lobby at the Parliament. Convince reasonable politicians that this is the right path of history; women have the right to vote. Men do not know what we suffer. We can produce life, we can speak for ourselves, choose who can rule over our lives.’
‘And you think nothing is being done?’
‘I know, we know. Mrs. Pankhurst says so.’ She took off his hat and rested it on the table. His cat, a big black feline with white spots jumped on the table and rested between the two of them to observe the spectacle.
‘We are discussing possibilities, but this is not to be decided in a month.’
‘You politicians say there are important questions being revised but in truth, you drown in hypocrisy. A few months ago you needed to leave the city in a hurry, wanted to take me with you, I can only imagine it had something to do with your dealings up North. The man you hire on your mines, do you consider them incapable of voting as well?’
He held the answer inside vowing to calm his nerves before speaking. It was necessary to spend a few moments observing the feline lick itself on the table or else he’d say awful words. ‘Those men work hard to provide comfort for your easy living, darling. The coal they extract provide your warm nights. Their labour sustain this nation and for that I fight in the parliament, to secure dignity and better life conditions to those who are not fortunate to work at Pemberley estate. There are far worse situations in Great Britain, far more pressing than women's right to choose rulers. Have you ever had any interest, have you ever investigated the ideals of the Eugenic Society breeding the working class as though they were cattle?’
She had no answer simply because she had no knowledge of what he was talking about. ‘Why would I believe in you, Fitzwilliam?’
‘You do not have reasons to mistrust me.’
‘I do! You proposed to me in such an offending and insulting manner that made it impossible for me to accept, even if I had the inclination of letting your handsomeness move me.’
He smiled in spite of his state of aggravation.
‘You spoke sense of my inferiority, of the supposed social degradation you would face because of the obstacles my family’s pecuniary estate, the will tying Longbourn to a mere servant of your aunt which would make you oddly connected to the help.’ She chuckled without humor. ‘The balls of the season last.’ She twirled on the dining room making the big dressing gown fly around her legs. ‘I danced here, dreamed about sweet romance, stupid me. Instead of speaking of love, you listed reasons which made your suit very unlikely.’ Lizzy pointed at him with hurt on her face. ‘How could any woman’s pride accept such humiliation?’
‘I was humiliating myself, Lizzy, sharing my fears with you and confessing I still didn’t know how to solve those doubts. But my adoration for you recommend this inclination, the warmth of my heart.’
In spite of her deeply-rooted dislike, a spot in her core ached for his touch, to feel his lips once more on hers in a sweet kiss such as the few they shared on the balls attended the previous season. ‘I never desired your good opinion, even though it much flattered me, I admit. You certainly bestowed this adoration most unwillingly, proposed a married life with so evident a desire of offending and insulting me as if you were obliged to it, moved against your will, reason, and even your character! I don’t want a husband I won’t be able to admire.’
Ire boiled inside the tall handsome man. ‘That is why you cannot vote!’ He pointed a long finger at her as if it were a weapon. ‘You are creatures of emotions; reasoning evades you whenever your pride is menaced.’
‘How am I wrong? You wanted to hurt the pride of the woman you adore?’
‘You would rather I lied to the woman I chose as companion of my life?’
‘Never!’ Bursting with altered nerves, she breathed in fast gasps, burned from her cheeks. ‘Many men prefer not to strange quality company, they recognize the importance of women’s opinion. Mr. Wickham, the assistant to the chief of staff-’
‘You take an eager interest in that gentleman's actions, to my deep disappointment in your intelligence.’ Darcy had almost totally lost his tranquility, face was colored and he felt warm.
‘Insulting me won’t erase the misfortunes Mr. Wickham has been through trying to help suffragists, all because of the way you politicians insist on rendering the progress of times.’
‘His misfortunes!’ Repeated Darcy contemptuously. ‘You should first say the women’s misfortunes; the ones he harasses when they accept a meeting alone with him. I doubt any of them has ever given a true account of what happened after they were left alone with him.’
She gasped. ‘If that is true, how does he keep doing it?’
‘He can’t. Wickham is forbidden to enter the Parliament but still works against the suffragists, planting the seed of doubt. Mental violence is not something I condone and I will never take part in any practice of this sort.’
‘I…’ She paced. ‘I don’t know.’
‘More than hindering the cause, he is interested in his own pleasure alone. Wickham would have deflowered you if I hadn’t discovered his foul actions supposedly in behalf of his master.’
A chill ran down her spine, she tried to disguise her fright.
‘And this is your opinion of me; you doubt me but believes a low-live!’ Darcy shook his head. ‘I value your opinion; your help to solve the problem that is your mamma’s constant tirade about your particulars. She speaks of the children she could not bear before and after you, the male heirs not produced, the failures you have when all I see is perfection in a young Oxford lady graduate.’
Her mind in tumult, Lizzy held strongly the traitorous tears of gratitude that threatened to escape her eyes. It was a lovely compliment intertwined in a horrible account about her mother’s antics.
‘I am of the opinion, Lizzy, that you are only so interested in the suffragist movement because it is a manner to oppose your mother.’
‘Fitzwilliam!’ She balled her hands, his dressing gown already opened showed her curves with more accuracy than her maiden modesty allowed. ‘It is a fair fight; you know it is. Do not pretend to be a patronizing mongrel.’
‘I despise the spiral game being played, Lizzy.’ He twisted his index finger in the air. ‘Both in the Parliament and between us. As I told you, there are conversations in development, but nothing will be achieved from day to night with acts of violence or menaces to disrupt the daily life of every woman in the nation.’ He raised his finger so she’d allow him to speak. ‘We live in male aristocracy, my darling, we have a king and a prime minister.’
‘We could have a woman prime minister!’ She interrupted.
An actual shudder ran through him. ‘In our model of living, women of aristocracy’s job is to stay at home, bear children, care for the husband who adores her.’
‘You speak a man of century past.’
‘I speak my heart as a man in love offering you this life-’ He gesticulated around them. ‘My adoration and the possibility of lobbying in favor of your cause with insider privileges.’ One of his arms reached for her.
Tentatively she caught his hand. ‘Your soul would certainly find a place in heaven for saving my father’s estate with proper administration and investments. Also my mamma’s nerves. Mine too, for she would stop whining.’
‘If you must thank me let it be for yourself alone, and do it following Pankhurst.’ A smile and he pointed his lips.
She could deny, but a kiss was something she craved for months. So, she allowed his arm around her waist, went up her toes, held his neck, caressed his lips with hers. ‘Deeds not words.’
‘A genius that woman is.’
They chuckled.
‘How, Fitzwilliam, how can I be so seduced by a man who despises my family but adores me so?’
‘Be that man alive, I shall see to his demise. Adoration of your person is my attribution alone and your family does have my respect. If not for much, simply and specially because of my wish of giving happiness to you, I think only of you.’
‘That is something a lady wants to hear from a gentleman promised to her.’ She giggled. ‘Moments such as this teach me to hope as I scarcely allow myself to. A life such as my mother lives frightens me, Fitzwilliam, what if nothing changes in another half a century?’
‘I can only guarantee that I am of the disposition to make you happy. Had you been absolutely, irrevocably decided against me, you would never hear of me again. But I have been told that you talk of me with fervor, even if in despicable terms, with great frequency.’
‘You speak of me in your newspaper chronicles!’ She tried to leave his arms, he tightened his embrace.
‘A siren’s call, my darling. One day you would come to confront me about it.’
‘Insufferable, stupid man!’
He chuckled against her ear. ‘I adore you, have dreamt of having you here with me for so long.’ In a simple movement, he turned to sit her on the table and shamelessly eased himself between her legs. ‘You insinuated to the policemen we were intimate…’ a kiss on her neck.
‘And you said we were engaged to be married soon.’ Her voice was little over a whisper. Her insides melted in such a manner that only happened when that man commanded. Lizzy was colored in the face and had an easy laugh on her lips.
‘My frankness to speak my wish, my belief of seeing us capable of that.’ His hands roamed her shoulders, she winced. His anger boiled for the attack she suffered, the risk she had put herself into. Carefully he caressed her arms, sides of cleavage. ‘There is something you ought to see in my study.’
‘Can’t I see it here?’ On fire, she imagined he wanted to initiate her on the art of love. The prospect was curious. She had left the house decided to experience great emotions in a suffragist rally but, maybe, would live them in the privacy of a liberal MP’s arms.
‘Before abusing you so abominably, I could have scruples and see to our relations, my darling.’ His big hand reached her thigh, squeezed, she moaned. ‘Please, do come.’
She nodded, he left the shelter of her legs, pulled her to her feet.
‘The cat?’
‘We don't really need him.’ Darcy gave the animal a side glance.
‘The poor thing… It's your cat!’
‘It's supposed to be yours. I only bought it because I heard overheard you say that you dreamt that a happy home has to have a handsome man and an adorable pet.’
She bit her lip. ‘When?…’
‘Once your aunt Charlotte urged you to take a turn around the gardens of my aunt's. I happened to be walking along a parallel path, had close enough distance to notice your melodic laughs.’
‘Oh, Fitzwilliam, you mock me!…’
‘As soon as I arrived back home, I bought this cat hoping to attract you.’ Hands caressed her hair off her shoulder, she winced, he kissed the sore area, then her neck. Next he asked for her lips.
They shared a passionate kiss, the kind that communicated more than physical promises. But he needed to maintain his focus, couldn’t allow her loveliness seduce him. Yet.
And hurried her to his study. For a moment, he feared the noise from the riot on the street could distract her, but all was quiet outside the window. The policemen turned when they noticed movement, waved to Darcy avoiding to look closely because it was clear by the man’s estate of undress that he had been involved in pleasurable activities.
Curtains closed, Darcy first held Lizzy by her neck with both hands for a big kiss, one that put her again in warm anticipation, and then opened the cupboard adorned with his family’s crest. From inside he took a leather file case and a jewel box. ‘This one you refused, this one you haven’t seen yet.’
The ring, a beautiful jewel that resembled a crown of sticks holding small diamonds, she remembered. Sometimes even regretted not feeling it weight on her finger. But the document…
‘A marriage license?’
‘Your father gave me permission to procure it.’
‘Against my will?’
‘Awaiting your decision.’
ancestor's hunt |
His voice came from behind her, in her ear, invading her sensibilities, making it impossible to reconcile with her former self of ignoring the fire burning her chest.
‘What did you say of me that made him believe in you more than in me?’
‘I spoke of my love.’ His hands found her chest, from behind as he was, over the fine silk of his dressing gown. ‘Allow me repeat all of it for you, my darling, for I shall say more.’
She nodded, speechless. Had had so many words minutes before when he fought her in equal terms; once in love battlefield, she was a willing apprentice.
‘But first.’ He leaned aside, big hand on her waist, chest on her back, and put pen to paper.
I, Fitzwilliam Darcy, accept freely, the terms of this marriage certificate that shall be signed in a proper ceremony in the near future.
Then he gave her the pen.
‘Can’t we sign the license?’
‘We would only make it null. Declare your inclinations, my darling, so I can take you as my own now.’
I, Elizabeth Bennet, accept freely the terms, with a few minor changes, of this marriage certificate that shall be signed in a proper ceremony in the near future.
‘Which changes?’ He complained.
‘I cannot say now because your handsomeness around me is a big distraction. Once I can control the riot inside me, I shall say.’
‘Riot?’ He smiled sideways.
She turned in his arms and put her lips to his. ‘You signed, cannot revert your word, even if my behavior to you deserves the severest reproof.’ He raised his brows, she bit his lip. ‘Be it unpardonable, impossibly curious, impertinent, full of abhorrence.’
‘Mrs. Darcy shall not see her husband complain of such abuse of his person.’
‘We will not quarrel for this.’
‘Absolutely.’ Chuckling, he grabbed her buttocks to bring it to his frame so there was no space between them.
A moan and a gasp, together. ‘That felt… Good.’
He had dreamed and planned how and when to deflower his wife, the woman he adored and refused him because he had had the misfortune to overlook her independent manner of thinking and intelligence. When finally, in his arms in an impromptu marriage, the bed should it be, his bachelor bed.
But to his bedchamber there were over twenty steps and Lizzy already dropped his dressing gown. Her lovely bare shoulders’ skin marred by an angry reddish bruise extended to arms long and thin with fingers that caressed his face giving him a glimpse inside her décolletage. Breasts he dreamed were offered in a hide-and-seek between lace and cotton as she breathed, a curve, a nipple, a curve. He drooled. His arm moved for its own, his hand reached the lovely feminine form, fingers closed around a breast. She gasped. ‘Open your buttons.’ He commanded, she complied. Sweet, lovely, adored, beautiful Lizzy opened all the buttons showing him all of her chest, her waist, her drawers. The bedchamber was suddenly too far away, impossibly far, he needed to sit her on his desk, over the marriage license, stand between her legs, hear her moans, imagine what went through her thoughts. ‘Tell me, darling, say what you feel.’ His fingers caressed a nipple with adoration but facing what the drawers presented, moved down and in a hurry, knocked a cup forgotten between books. ‘Oh, damn, our marriage license!...’
Bertha was even irritated to lose that dream at that point. Oh, what a pity, the moment she was about to be invaded by a loving man obviously entranced on her person.
What did she remember about her first time? Not much. Second boyfriend, where they were, the care he had with her, pain – of course. But no particulars. At that moment, how appealing would it be to feel it all again, now having the knowledge of all she had lived so far.
‘Shit, why did the Belladama had to wear off so quickly?’
Wait, was it quick? It did feel like fifteen minutes. She rolled over and checked her phone. A little less than eleven hours. A quick ride that was… Wow, suffragist.
Still in bed she researched the activists’ history on the net until voices reached her.
‘The storm is finally giving in; Junior will be able to come get us in the morning or at lunch time.’
‘You know you don’t have to leave so early, Gia. We love to have you here.’
‘You’re a dear, but we only feel at home when at home, right?’
A shared chuckle.
‘Would your daughter want a ride with us? She mentioned her worry at being late for work, the storm caught us all by surprise. Junior can take her home.’
‘I bet she’d like that. She’s always keen to save a few bucks.’
‘Good.’
Silence.
‘She’s single, right?’
‘Oh, yes… Single for a long while now.’
‘Junior too. He told his sister there was a girl he wanted to ask out on a date, but she is just a waitress. My daughter told him to think twice, he is a DDS after all!’
‘I thought your son was a dentist like Darrygh.’
‘Yes, Doctor of Dental Surgery.’
‘Ah!’ There was a pause. ‘Well, truth be told, a doctor dating an uneducated waitress is suspicious.’
‘Exactly what my daughter told my son.’
‘Twins have this connection, don't they?’
‘Yes, they are very close.’ Pause. ‘Imagine if Bertha and Junior…’
Giggle.
‘Bertha has a degree. Unfortunately, she also has a head full of ideas…’
‘Children keep us worried even when grown up.’
‘One minute of pleasure worth thirty years of worrying!’
Chuckles.
dreamstime |
Long pause.
Bertha hid her face on her pillow. ‘Damn, here I go.’
~ continues ~
A. N. This is a fun little P&P madness, as we well know and love, right? That's why HERE we let men think they won over us in this particular question. Women's space in society and ruling is something very important, much abused here in Brazil lately. I just want to make it clear that I do not take it lightly. See ya next week. M.
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