To Conquer Mr. Darcy

Thirteen

Darcy came down to breakfast late the following morning with a spring in his step. If he had thought himself insatiable before, it was nothing compared to how he responded in the ambience of Netherfield and the memories it roused in him. It had been a long night of passion in which he had made love to Elizabeth again and again, intoxicated by her eagerness and her soft cries of pleasure.

When he entered the breakfast room, Bingley looked up at him from a plate of toast with a characteristic broad smile and said, “Darcy, you look to be in a fine mood this morning!”

Darcy placed his hands on the table and leaned across it toward his friend. “Bingley, I am married to the most astonishing woman in the world, and if her sister is anything like her, you will be a very happy man indeed.”

Bingley’s eyebrows shot up. “Oh, ho, my friend, is that how the land lies?”

Darcy gave a smug smile. “Indeed it is.”

“You lucky dog!” Bingley shook his head philosophically. “You are cruel to flaunt your happiness in front of me when I must wait for weeks yet for my angel! Our wedding has yet to be rescheduled. I wish I had a bishop for a godfather!”

Unaccustomed to the art of deception, Darcy experienced a moment of confusion before recalling the public version of their marriage. Recovering himself, he said, “I would not, in fact, recommend our route to the altar, although I admit that the results are very satisfactory indeed.”

“Darcy,” said Bingley suspiciously, “what are you failing to tell me? You are without question the worst liar I know!”

Darcy gave him a quelling stare, but his spirits were too high to hold it for long. He went about helping himself to breakfast with no further attention to Bingley’s comment. Bingley, realizing with glee that he had found one of those rare subjects on which his serious friend could be teased, closed in. “Come now, Darcy, confess. What happened? Did you deliberately put the idea in the bishop’s head?”

“Bingley,” Darcy said calmly, buttering his toast, “if I were to tell you why we married so quickly, you would feel obligated, as Elizabeth’s future brother, to thrash me within an inch of my life, and that hardly seems a good omen for our future.”

“Darcy! You didn’t!” Bingley’s voice contained elements of both shock and awe.

“And you, perhaps, could vouch for your own behavior if you were to accidentally meet Jane alone, wearing nothing more than a rather revealing dressing gown, in the middle of the night?”

“Well, if I could, it would be because of faith in Jane, rather than myself,” Bingley conceded. Could it be that Fitzwilliam Darcy was actually admitting a failing? With a smile on his face? “Well, given the extenuating circumstances, perhaps I will refrain from thrashing you, but only if Lizzy comes downstairs with a smile on her face as well.”

“In that case, I believe I have nothing to worry about,” Darcy said with a self-satisfied air.

“Are you enjoying tormenting me, Darcy, or is it just happenstance?” asked Bingley.

Darcy just smiled. “Your turn will come, my friend.”

Bingley rode to Longbourn after breakfast, leaving Elizabeth and Darcy to make their way to the Bennet house on their own. Darcy had nostalgically ordered the curricle readied, which produced an amused laugh from Elizabeth. He took her hand in his, giving her a warmly possessive look, as they drove off, those moments from his courtship of her very much alive in both their minds.

Elizabeth brought his hand up to her cheek, then pressed a kiss on it. “By the by, I never found a chance yesterday to ask you what was so amusing to you and my father yesterday in the library.”

“Why, does it strike you as odd that we should be amicable for more than ten minutes at a stretch?” he asked mockingly.

“I would say that ten minutes is quite generous for the two of you!”

“Well, he was entertaining me with stories of your childhood misadventures, and attempting to warn me that you can have moments of temper given sufficient provocation.” He gave her an amused look. “I admitted to having a certain degree of experience with that already.”

“What do you mean?” she said indignantly. “When have I lost my temper with you?”

He raised his eyebrows. “Hunsford.”

She colored. “Well, I try to think only of the past as its remembrance gives me pleasure, and that is one moment that I have tried hard to forget! And I do not believe that I was the only intemperate one that day.”

He gave her an indulgent look. “I never suggested otherwise, my love, and you may feel perfectly free to put it completely out of your mind if it pleases you.”

“I hope you did not tell my father about that!”

“Well, only selected moments,” he admitted. “He seemed to find them entertaining.”

“William!” she said indignantly. “I cannot believe you would do such a thing!”

“It did allow us to avoid fighting for over a quarter of an hour, which must be a record of sorts,” he said defensively. “And he told far more stories than I did.”

She looked at him through narrowed eyes. Her spirits were too high to allow her to be annoyed, however, and she could admit that it was precisely the kind of conversation that would have pleased Mr. Bennet immensely.

“I did tell him that you were completely justified,” he added.

“Well, I shall forgive you this time.”

“Pity,” he said lightly.

“Why is that a pity?” she asked suspiciously.

“If you would not forgive me, I would have to take you back to Netherfield and make love to you until you did.”

“You are incorrigible, William! To think I once thought you sober and restrained!”

“That was only to allow me to catch you off your guard,” he teased.

“Well, however you did it, you certainly did catch me.”

It was near dark when the Netherfield party returned home, Elizabeth still finding it odd to be included in that number. Once they had arrived, it was not long before she excused herself for the evening, having found it to be a rather emotional day on top of little sleep the night before. Darcy, waiting below to give her time to make her preparations before joining her, poured a glass of port for himself and one for Bingley, and settled himself to listen sympathetically to his friend’s woes over his delayed wedding.

When Darcy finally felt it appropriate to retire, Bingley looked at him with a gleam in his eye. “Yes, Bingley?” he said patiently.

“Darcy,” he said with an engaging grin, “Jane and I had a particularly lovely walk today. I do not know what Lizzy said to her yesterday, but if you would not mind convincing her to say a great deal more of it, I would be most appreciative.”

Darcy raised an eyebrow. “Am I to understand that my wife is encouraging your fiancée in improper behavior?”

“Apparently,” said Bingley, “and with our wedding delayed, Jane’s kisses may be my only hope of sanity!”

Bingley had convinced Jane to join them for dinner the next day, and had sent his carriage for her, as it seemed likely to rain. He had been pacing the floor of the sitting room ever since, waiting eagerly for her arrival, and when the sound of the carriage was finally heard, he practically dashed out to greet her. Elizabeth made to follow him, but Darcy caught her hand and held her back. “Let them have a few minutes together, my love,” he said with amusement.

“You just hope to keep me to yourself, sir!” she retorted playfully.

His arm snaked out and caught her around the waist, pulling her onto his lap. “Absolutely correct, my dearest.”

She wound her arms around his neck. “You, Mr. Darcy, are the most forward man of my acquaintance,” she said with an impudent smile.

He stole a breathtaking kiss. “I see that you are finally beginning to understand me, Mrs. Darcy.”

She nibbled playfully at his ear. “I must ask you, however, to release me, else Jane will be quite shocked by our behavior.”

“One kiss first, my love,” he said. With a smile, she met his demand, and, as he had hoped, one kiss turned into rather more. She was still in his arms when Bingley escorted Jane in, causing Elizabeth to scramble off his lap ungracefully.

It was obvious that restoring her dignity was a lost cause, so she gave a guilty smile as she went to embrace Jane. She whispered an apology for embarrassing her in Jane’s ear.

“No need for that, Lizzy,” Jane said with a smile. “I am becoming inured to it!”

This statement, coming from Jane, was quite a surprise, and Lizzy took a closer look at her sister, only to note that her delicate lips were ever so slightly swollen. Jane? she wondered to herself, and a look at the brightness of Bingley’s smile only added to her suspicions.

She did not have a chance to confirm her supposition, however, until after dinner when Darcy and Bingley were thoughtful enough to allow the two women to retire by themselves for a time. She turned to Jane with a look of mischief and said, “Dearest Jane, if I did not know better, I would think that you had been allowing Mr. Bingley to kiss you tonight!”

Jane blushed deeply. “Lizzy!” she exclaimed in deep embarrassment.

Elizabeth took her hand remorsefully. “I am sorry to tease, Jane. I will not raise the subject again.”

“No, dearest Lizzy, I am not afraid to speak of it, only embarrassed… it is my own fault, you see.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Mr. Bingley had nothing to do with it?”

“Oh, Lizzy, I have behaved dreadfully! It began the day after you arrived. I was telling him what a lovely talk you and I had, and how contented you seemed with marriage to Mr. Darcy. We had both been concerned, you know, after you fought on the day you became engaged—and then I just kissed him!” She looked amazed at her own temerity.

Elizabeth smiled knowingly. “Was he shocked?”

Jane colored. “For a moment, I believe he was, but he recovered quickly. He was… pleased; he made that evident.” She could not quite bring herself to meet Elizabeth’s eyes.

“He looks very happy tonight.”

“Well, to tell the truth, Lizzy, I confess I have allowed it to happen a number of times now.”

Elizabeth recalled the first times Darcy had kissed her, and how ambivalent she had felt. Of course, we were not yet engaged, she thought, but she would have been taken aback by her own response even had they been formally committed to one another. “It can be rather surprising in its effect, can it not?” she said sympathetically.

“I had no idea, Lizzy!” she exclaimed. “It does make it a bit easier for me to understand how you and Mr. Darcy came to be caught in such compromising positions.”

Elizabeth laughed. “Yes, well, a great deal of that was my fault, but Mr. Darcy was also rather more… demanding than your Mr. Bingley seems to have been.” The look in Jane’s eyes suggested that Bingley was perhaps not now quite as undemanding as he might once have been. Elizabeth took her hand and pressed it affectionately. “Do you regret kissing him, Jane?”

There was a pause as Jane considered this. “No, I do not. I cannot think that Charles and I should ever be near so daring as you and Mr. Darcy, though, Lizzy! You would think us quite dull, I am sure.”

“If you are happy, then I am happy, dearest Jane.”

“I confess that I am less worried about the wedding night now!” admitted Jane with a laugh.

“You will find that it comes quite naturally, I have no doubt!” They smiled at one another affectionately.

Bingley rejoined them on his own, a broad smile on his face as he spotted Jane. After a brief greeting, he turned to Elizabeth. “Lizzy, Darcy is quite the changed man these days! I have no idea how you may have accomplished it!”

“I am not certain to what you refer, Mr. Bingley,” Elizabeth said cautiously.

“He just confessed to me that there was a letter he needed to finish to his steward that should have gone in yesterday’s post! Unbelievable!”

“And this is so extraordinary, Mr. Bingley?” Elizabeth asked with amusement.

“Why, Darcy has always done his work promptly. He has never delayed to the last minute like this,” said Bingley. “It is quite delightful to see him engaging in some of the same sins as the rest of us mere mortals.”

“I have noticed that he smiles a great deal more than I ever saw in the past,” added Jane.

“I will grant you that he does smile more,” said Elizabeth with a laugh.

“Do you know what I find the most astonishing, though?” asked Bingley. “His tale of the events in London! Do you realize how shocking it is that Darcy let his cousin deal with Wickham? Darcy always does everything himself. I have never known him to accept help, nor share a responsibility. I believe he would have thought it a weakness to need anyone’s assistance.”

Elizabeth had not considered this. She thought back on all the time she had known him, and could not find a counter-example. Of course, it was a trait that they shared, and she had learned as well to rely on his support and assistance. “One of William’s most redeeming characteristics is his willingness to change,” she said lightly.

“For your sake, at least!” said Bingley with a broad smile.

“Of course, I cannot claim to be completely unchanged myself,” Elizabeth said slowly.

Bingley and Jane exchanged a glance that suggested to Elizabeth that this topic had been raised between them before. She looked at them in mock reproach until Jane could not help laughing. “Yes, Lizzy, you are different as well. I daresay that you and Mr. Darcy are good influences on one another.”

Elizabeth was not regretful when the time came to return to London. Although she had enjoyed her time with Jane and her father, the need to shield Darcy from the notice of those of her family whose vulgarity would be mortifying to him had taken its toll on her. Leaving her former home caused little distress when she would be returning there in only two months’ time for Jane’s wedding. Although the reason for their return to London was not a pleasant one, she was content being with Darcy.

Georgiana was delighted to see them on their arrival in Brook Street; she had missed her new sister dearly, and was anxious to tell them both of her activities in town since they had left. Colonel Fitzwilliam was unexpectedly off to Newcastle again—“the better to keep an eye on Wickham when he arrives there,” said Darcy darkly. Lydia’s wedding was scheduled for the following day, and a note from Mr. Gardiner awaited them with the details of the arrangements.

Elizabeth could practically see Darcy’s mood deteriorating in front of her as the evening progressed, and was concerned as to the cause of it. Not wishing to raise the question in front of Georgiana, she bided her time until they retired for the night. When they finally went upstairs, Darcy stopped her before she entered her room. “Elizabeth,” he said in a serious manner, “my disposition tonight is not pleasant. You might prefer your own company to mine.”

She looked at him gravely, troubled by his implication that he should perhaps keep his troubles to himself. Perhaps, she thought, he wishes some time to himself, and is seeking a courteous way to say that. She suspected, however, that it was his tendency to withdraw when he was troubled, and she certainly did not wish to set a precedent in that regard. “I think that I should prefer your company, regardless of your disposition, and would hope that my company might ease your spirits. You need not pretend to a cheer that you lack.”

She thought that he looked relieved, and he kissed her forehead before going to his room. “I shall join you shortly, then, my love,” he said. She smiled slightly, pleased that she seemed to have made the correct decision.

After Lucy had assisted her into her nightclothes, Elizabeth sat brushing out her hair as she wondered what might be troubling Darcy. It seemed an encouraging step that he did not attempt to hide his feelings from her. She could not expect their marriage to be always without difficulties, but it was important that they face them in concert. His knock came at the adjoining door, and she bade him enter.

His expression was warm as she set down the brush and walked into his arms. He held her close to him, burying his face in her hair, letting the softness and the sweet scent of it soothe him.

As she felt him relax in her embrace, she tilted her head back to look up at him. “Can you tell me what is distressing you, my dearest?” she asked softly.

He could see her concern, and felt warmed by it; warmed, and also pleased in other ways as well. He lowered his lips to hers in a lingering kiss. “Let me lose myself in you first, my beloved, and then, if you wish, we can speak further,” he said.

There are many forms of comfort, thought Elizabeth, and she was more than happy to provide relief in that form, responding as ever to the feeling of his body against hers and the pleasures of his kisses. She arched herself against him seductively, and was rewarded by an immediate response.

Their lovemaking was sweet and tender, and when Elizabeth lay in his arms afterwards, she could sense that it had lightened his humor somewhat. She stroked his cheek affectionately, and he turned his face to her. “You do not intend to forget anything for a minute, do you, my love?” he asked lightly.

“I do not wish to forget anything that relates to you. You have made it clear that when I am in distress, you wish to know about it; likewise, I would like to share in any troubles you face.”

“Trapped in my own net,” he said affectionately. “Very well, my love, you may do your worst, though this is not as large a matter as you seem to believe, just that the prospect of seeing George Wickham tomorrow is an unpleasant one for me.”

“I can hardly fault you for that, William. It is distressing to think that anyone can care so little for the harm he does to others, and be so impudent as to suppose that he shall always escape unscathed.”

Darcy sighed deeply. “It is the more distressing when he is someone you have counted as a friend.”

She considered his words. Certainly, she had experienced a sense of betrayal when she realized Wickham’s true character after reading Darcy’s letter, and a sense of self-disgust that she had allowed herself to admire and be attracted by such a man. Her acquaintance with him, though, had been but a few short months; Darcy had known him his entire life, and by his own report they had been companions in their youth. How much greater must be the pain of his treachery under those circumstances! Having some sense as to the depth of her husband’s personal loyalties, she could only imagine what it must have cost him to dissolve a friendship that had begun so early, and with someone with such strong ties to his family. “That must be very difficult indeed,” she said.

“He knows my vulnerabilities so well. If it were only money, or even dishonor, that he sought, it would be less painful. But no, he understands how much more pain he can cause me by injuring those I love. I will not be able to look at him without seeing the hurt that he has dealt first to Georgiana, now to you. It is well-nigh unbearable.”

Elizabeth knew that she would have to word her next question carefully. “I have never understood why he wishes to injure you in the first place.”

Darcy grimaced. “It is not as if he spends his time searching for ways to get his revenge on me; it is more that he cannot resist an opportunity when he sees one, and he can see opportunities where no one else can. As to why… I have always assumed that he never surmounted his jealousy about the differences in our prospects. When we were young it meant nothing, but as we grew older, he resented it more. I believe it gives him some sense of power to get the better of me in one way or another, so he continues his tricks to this day.”

She nestled close to him. “I am so sorry. I do not believe that I can imagine what it would feel like to have a friend turn on you in that way. And, William…” she trailed off.

“Yes, my love?” He tangled his fingers in her long curls.

“Thank you for undertaking the mortification of dealing with him, for Lydia’s sake.”

“Sweet Elizabeth, you hardly need thank me for remedying a situation that would not have existed but for me.”

“No,” she said determinedly, “it exists because of Wickham’s amorality, and if you play any role in it at all, it is because he knows that in a cause of compassion and honor, you will be able to get the better of yourself and work for a solution with a man you despise. I am proud of you.”

He gathered her even closer to him. “My dearest love, you are very good to me, and I do not deserve such praise.”

She sat up abruptly and fixed a look of mock disapproval on her face. “Are you arguing with me, Mr. Darcy?” she said, in tones that would not have been out of place for Lady Catherine de Bourgh.

She was pleased to see him laugh. “I would never dream of it, madam.”

“I am glad to hear it,” she replied briskly. “Otherwise I should have to punish you.”

“And how, pray tell, would you accomplish that, Mrs. Darcy?” he inquired.

She took advantage of her position over him to give him a very good sense of how she intended to punish him, running her hands lightly along the lines of his body. With a wicked smile, she began to stroke and caress him in the ways she knew he found most arousing.

He reached up and drew her down on top of him. “In that case, madam,” he said, between kisses, “I feel it only appropriate to warn you that I am feeling quite argumentative tonight.”