To Conquer Mr. Darcy

Four

There was no response when Darcy knocked at the door of Georgiana’s room. Suspecting that she was hiding, he said, “Georgiana, it is William. I know you are in there; please open the door.” A moment later his sister appeared and let him into her sitting room. She did not meet his eyes, and looked as if she was expecting a scolding.

“I wanted to see if you were well; you looked upset when you left,” he said awkwardly.

“I am well,” she responded quietly. “Are you angry with me?”

“Far from it. I was proud of you for speaking up to Miss Bingley.”

She did not reply. Darcy shifted in his chair uncomfortably, wondering what in the world to say to her. Elizabeth would know, he thought, and indulged in a brief fantasy of riding to Longbourn and telling Elizabeth he needed her to talk to Georgiana for him. Then, while he was bringing her back, he would take her in his arms and show her all the passion that he had been hiding. He pushed those thoughts away firmly.

“Why did you not say anything when she was being so horrible about Elizabeth?”

Darcy sighed. “That is a perfectly reasonable question. I imagine I would have said something sooner or later, but I have developed a tolerance Miss Bingley’s remarks, and I pay little attention to them. Also, the more jealous Miss Bingley becomes of my regard for Miss Bennet, the more offensively she treats her, so I protect her by saying nothing.”

“I never thought about that part. But did you really say that horrible thing about Elizabeth and her mother?”

He swore to himself that if he ever managed to convince Elizabeth to marry him, she would have to handle all the serious conversations with Georgiana. She had never before questioned his behavior, and certainly not in this manner. “Yes, I did, or something much like it. I have said a great many ill-judged things in my life that I regret, and that would be high on the list.”

Georgiana bit her lip, wondering if she truly dared to ask the question she most wanted the answer to. “Are you going to propose to Elizabeth?”

Darcy was back on solid ground now. “Miss Bennet and I are just friends.”

“There is no need to treat me like a child. I have seen how you look at her.”

“This is a private matter, Georgiana,” he said in a voice that declared the subject closed.

Georgiana subsided, not yet ready to openly defy him. Perhaps she would ask Elizabeth.

Darcy could not recall any instance in which he was as annoyed with his sister as he was when she began Elizabeth’s next visit by announcing that she was looking forward to visiting with Elizabeth alone, and promptly took her off to her rooms. He tried to console himself with the knowledge that he would have been unable to converse with her in private in any case, much less follow up on the delightful finish to their recent day together, but he was at the point of feeling such a degree of deprivation of her company that his irritation remained unchanged. It had been over a week since the day she had kissed him, and he had not been one minute alone with her since. It was enough to drive a man to distraction, or at least to contemplate kidnapping.

Elizabeth gave him a sympathetic glance in response to his obvious disgruntlement before she and Georgiana went out, but it provided little comfort. Darcy was obsessed with the many things he was denied at the moment: he longed for time alone with Elizabeth, he wanted the opportunity to kiss her again, he needed to know what she was feeling about him, and above all, he desired her love. He hated being so mystified by the state of her regard for him; she obviously felt something, but how much was attraction and how much was affection baffled him. At times, he thought he detected her concern for him, but then again, she never seemed particularly pleased to see him, and was more likely to greet Bingley or Georgiana with a warm smile than him. He had seen desire in her eyes, but not a look of tenderness or affection. It was ironic; when he proposed to her in Kent, he had not been particularly concerned about whether she cared about him—as long as she was willing to marry him, the reason was unimportant. Now it was the caring that concerned him most, and it would be a bitter ending indeed to win her for any reason but her love. He shook his head and decided that if he could not be with Elizabeth, he might as well be productive, and retreated to the room he was using as his study to tackle the enormous pile of papers his steward had sent him.

Elizabeth was not in the least confused about how Darcy was feeling at the moment, since he had done an abysmal job of hiding his frustration. She was inclined to sympathize, as she had missed his company as well, but she was also amused at Georgiana’s unusual assertiveness, and curious as to why she would not want Darcy present, especially as she was of the opinion that Georgiana wanted to throw the two of them together as much as possible. She suspected Georgiana wished to confide in her, but that was far from the truth.

Georgiana, tired of being left in the dark, was in fact preparing to interrogate Elizabeth, and her only uncertainty was how direct to be about her intentions. She eventually elected to be straightforward, mostly out of doubt in her own ability to be subtle, but also feeling that this might suit Elizabeth better. She felt it best, though, to start with the relatively simple questions. “Have you thought any further about coming to Pemberley?”

Elizabeth sighed. Every time she saw Georgiana, this subject arose again. Darcy, on the other hand, carefully avoided any mention of Pemberley with her. “There truly is nothing for me to think about, since, as I have said, the decision is not mine.”

“It seems as if you would prefer not to visit us,” she said somewhat plaintively.

“Georgiana, I would be delighted to visit you, but this particular visit is problematic. You have never met my aunt and uncle, and they move in very different circles than you. I think it would be preferable if we merely called on you.”

“I would like to meet them, and I am certain they would be more congenial company than Miss Bingley and the Hursts!”

“I confess that I would think them so, but that hardly matters.”

“Of course it does! I feel certain that William would enjoy their company as well.” She paused, then asked, “May I ask if you are promised to someone else?”

Elizabeth looked at her in great surprise. “No, I am not promised to anyone. Why do you ask?”

“It was just a thought. When my cousin, Colonel Fitzwilliam, wrote to me last, he said I should tell you the story of my parents’ courtship, and that made me wonder, because my mother had been promised to another man.”

“And what, pray, is the story of their courtship?” Elizabeth wondered what role the colonel might be playing, and whether he was speaking on Darcy’s behalf or his own.

“Well, I do not know all the details, because everyone stopped talking about it after my mother died, and it is much more amusing when my uncle tells it. So you should really ask William, or Richard, or my uncle.”

“But you must know the outlines of the story, at least.”

“Oh, yes. Well, when my father met my mother, he announced that he was going to marry her, and he proposed to her every day for a long time, and then somehow it was settled with her betrothed to end the engagement. It was more complicated than that, but as I said, I do not know the details.”

“An interesting tale,” said Elizabeth, amused by what she assumed to be the moral of the story regarding the persistence of men of the Darcy family. “Do you remember your mother well?”

“Only a little; I was five when she died, and she was ill all my life, or at least never well. She never completely recovered from my birth. She and William were close, though; it was hard for him when she died, I think.”

“It must have been hard for all of you.”

“I hardly understood what was happening, but I know that my father was devastated. He and William had some problems after that.”

“Oh?” Elizabeth found that she was very interested in hearing about Darcy’s earlier years.

“As I understand it, my father had a difficult time being around William for a while, because he reminded him so much of our mother. And then there was… a person, a favorite of my father’s, who tried to turn him against William for his own benefit. After that there was never the same trust between them, which grieved William, who wanted very much to please him. I believe that it was a little better at the end, when my father was dying, and William came home to take over the management of the estate, and he could see how serious William was about it.” Georgiana risked a glance at Elizabeth, wondering what she thought of this.

“I imagine he would be very serious about it.”

“Oh, yes, and after he died, William had no time for anything but managing Pemberley for the longest time. There had been some mismanagement in the last year of my father’s life, after his steward had died, and of course William had so much to learn. I remember that whenever I wanted to see him, he would either be out on the estate or buried behind a huge pile of paper in the study. But he always found time for me, anyway.”

“An ideal elder brother.”

“Oh, yes! There could not be a better one. Are you in love with him?”

Elizabeth could not help smiling at the abruptness and earnestness of the question. It reminded her of Darcy’s behavior, but what seemed demanding in him was more endearing in his sister. “That is a very personal question,” she said gently.

Georgiana looked crestfallen. “I apologize. I… it is so frustrating watching William, and not knowing what is happening, or why he doesn’t just propose to you… I am sorry, I should not have said that either.”

“It sounds as if you need to be asking him these questions, not me.”

Georgiana made a face. “Yes, and then he starts acting as if I were still eleven years old, and tells me that you are just friends in his ‘don’t ask any more questions’ voice. And I think that he is the reason you are avoiding coming to Pemberley, though I am at a loss as to why.”

Elizabeth could not help laughing at this characterization, which seemed very apt to her. She could well imagine how frustrating it must be for Georgiana—even more frustrating than Georgiana’s persistence on the question of Pemberley was becoming. “Your brother and I are both strong-willed, and this means we have a number of difficulties to work out between us before we could even begin to discuss marriage. We are also prone to rather explosive and hurtful quarreling. So you must not be too hard on him for not proposing; I am sure that he wishes it were that simple.”

“I do not see why he has to make everything so complicated!” she said petulantly.

Elizabeth laughed, feeling rather sorry for Darcy if his sister was faulting him for failing to propose to her. “Georgiana, dearest, did it ever occur to you that I might be the one who is creating difficulties?”

“You?” Georgiana said in disbelief. “Why in the world would you not want to marry him? There is no better man to be found anywhere!”

“Even if he still treats you like a child?” Elizabeth said with a smile.

“Elizabeth! That is not what I meant!”

“Well, as it happens, I do not like being treated like a child either. But have patience with us, my dear, and try not to be too hard on your brother.”

A knock came at the door, and in response to Georgiana’s call to enter, the door opened to reveal a roguishly determined-looking Darcy. “Miss Bennet, I have come to abduct you.”

“To abduct me! Where, pray tell, are you planning to take me, sir?”

“Almost anywhere will do,” responded Darcy in a mock growl.

“I have always wanted to see Italy,” Elizabeth said thoughtfully.

“‘Tempt not a desperate man,’ Miss Bennet.”

“‘Beware of desp’rate steps,’ Mr. Darcy!”

Darcy gave a wicked smile. “‘Peace! I will stop thy mouth.’”

Elizabeth opened her mouth to protest the obvious conclusion, but Darcy was too quick for her, and bent to press a firm kiss on her lips. Astonished at this behavior in front of his sister, Elizabeth fixed a stare on him that had little effect on his very satisfied look. “‘O, what men dare do!’” she retorted.

“Remember, Miss Bennet, that I am desperate.” He took her by the hand and tugged her toward the door. “Please excuse us, Georgiana,” he said to his stunned sister.

Elizabeth, amused by this unexpectedly playful and unrestrained side of him, followed cooperatively if not without apprehension of being observed. Fortunately, he managed to lead her as far as his study without interruption, and then released her only to close the door behind them and lock it. When he turned to face her, she allowed a raised eyebrow and a severely doubtful look to speak for her.

Darcy had the grace to look slightly guilty, and stood away from the door. “You are welcome to leave whenever you wish, Miss Bennet; but this house is full of people who seem determined to keep us apart, and I do not want to be interrupted.” He had not in fact planned beyond this point when the thought had occurred to him that his initial idea of kidnapping had some merit.

“Well, Mr. Darcy,” said Elizabeth, a smile lurking about her lips, “what is it that you want? No, wait, I withdraw that question; I shall ask instead whether there is a particular purpose to this abduction.”

“A purpose to this abduction? Perhaps I should start instead with your first question, which addressed what I want,” he said, fully aware that this was the first time he had been alone with her in a week, and of how simple it would be for him to take her into his arms, and damn the risk of being caught.

Elizabeth recognized the look in his eyes, and her own reaction was enough to give her doubts about the wisdom being behind a closed door with him. She was sufficiently sensitive to her desires after so long without his touch to respond to no more than a look, and realized the necessity of a distraction.

“I had an enlightening visit with your sister,” she said with a playful smile. “Since Georgiana usually says so little, I had not realized that, when she chooses, she can be almost as persistent as certain of her relations.”

“That she can,” he said, his eyes hungrily devouring her. “And what was she after today?”

“Among other things, she is persisting in her invitations to Pemberley.” She was beginning to find it difficult to think about anything apart from her body’s treacherous demands for his touch, her desire to run her fingers through his hair and find his lips with her own. In an effort to clear her mind, she walked to the window and stood looking out. Having her back to him was an improvement; she still felt tingly all over, but at least she could concentrate. “It is becoming difficult to continue to decline without risking hurting her feelings.”

“Then why not accept the invitation?” he asked.

Her heart began to pound as she heard him moving closer. “Even if I had the right to make such plans, which I do not, I have doubts about the wisdom of bringing my aunt and uncle to Pemberley, as I have no desire to have my relatives be an embarrassment to you. Given that you have been silent on the subject of the visit, I suspect that you have reservations as well.”

“You would be far from correct in that supposition. I have strong feelings on the subject, and they are not reservations.”

“I am aware that such a visit would excite the scorn of many of those in your social circle, and your relatives would be appalled.” She could feel him close behind her, and she was beginning to find it difficult to breathe.

Unable to resist temptation, he put his hand on her shoulder. The nearness of his fingers to the uncovered skin of her neck made him almost dizzy. “If they feel that way, they are no loss to me.” Images of Elizabeth at Pemberley led him to those possessive and passionate feelings he tried so hard to keep in check—images of her face across the table from him, the warmth and softness of her in his arms as he made love to her, of her lying in his bed, her dark hair spread across the pillow, her inviting smile for him alone. His hand almost involuntarily slid the short distance across the neckline of her dress to caress the skin of her shoulder. She was even softer than he had imagined.

The touch of his hand on her sensitive skin ignited a fire in Elizabeth that was impossible to ignore. She found herself leaning her head away from his hand to allow him greater access. As he accepted the invitation by stroking his fingertips along the line of her shoulder to her neck where he continued his caresses, she felt flooded with sensations of excitement and pleasure. Slipping his free hand around her waist, he drew her back against him, and slid his other hand slowly down her arm to join it. She felt enthralled by the feeling of his strong body against her back, and she arched her head back to claim even more of him. The sensation of being enclosed by his arms was beyond her imaginings. It spoke both of safety and fierce desire, love and yearning.

He spoke softly in her ear. “Regardless of whether you choose to come to Pemberley, Pemberley already belongs to you, and has for many months now.” His lips grazed her neck, sending shivers through her. “Elizabeth Darcy has been gracing the halls and rooms of Pemberley since my first stay at Netherfield. While I have been passionately admiring Miss Elizabeth Bennet,” he paused to trail a line of kisses along her neck, “every night in my dreams she has been walking by my side at Pemberley, and she will always haunt me there, no matter what choice you make.” With every phrase he allowed himself to explore her softness further, placing kisses in the hollows of her shoulders, the sensitive skin behind her ear, and every point in between. “Yes, I want you to come to Pemberley; I want to show you every nook and cranny, to take you through every part of the grounds, until it means as much to you as it does to me.”

She was deeply moved by the intensity of feeling in his words even as she found herself almost unbearably aroused by his caresses, each touch causing such sensations of delight and desire to course through her that she felt she could hardly bear it. Needing more, she turned her head and sought his lips with a hunger that could not be disguised. The shock when their lips met stirred her further, and the kisses that followed, unlike the gentle and testing ones he had given her before, were filled with urgency and need. She wanted to relieve his distress, she yearned for his touch, and she longed to surrender herself completely to him.

“Will you come to Pemberley?” he asked against her lips, before exploring them again with a thoroughness that devastated her defenses, leaving her so aroused that she felt she could deny him nothing.

“Yes,” she whispered, as his fingers traced lines of fire along her sides, and she knew that, had he asked her at that moment to marry him, she would have agreed to that as well.

Darcy, intoxicated by the feel of her, the taste of her, and most of all by her response that was passionate beyond all his hopes, was risking losing himself in her as he had done so often in his dreams, but knew not how to stop himself from slaking his incredible thirst for her. He tried to focus on the thought of her anger at his behavior that was sure to follow, but as she pressed herself against him and sought more of his kisses, he lost all ability to care for anything beyond the moment.

Elizabeth felt equally lost, but as his lips traveled from hers down to the nape of her neck, where they wrought complete havoc on any remaining self-control that she might have, she opened her eyes for a moment and found herself looking through the window straight into the shocked face of Caroline Bingley.

Her gasp of horror and sudden stiffening caught Darcy’s attention even before she managed to speak his name, and he looked up, fearing to find that she was angry with his attentions. Only someone who knew him well would have recognized the slight shift in his face from desire to quiet fury when he met the eyes of the source of her distress, or recognized that he was acting on that anger when he followed the course of action that he knew would upset the interloper more than anything else, which was to resume scattering kisses across Elizabeth’s face and neck.

As Miss Bingley turned her back with an obvious sneer and walked off, Elizabeth pulled away from him and covered her hands over her face. When word of this reached Longbourn, her father would have no mercy; she would find herself married to Darcy before the end of the week. She should return home right away, and try to control the damage with a confession before the news arrived. But such an outcome would be the last thing that Miss Bingley would desire. No, she would keep her peace about what she had seen in order to keep her own options with Darcy open, rather than risk forcing him into a marriage with Elizabeth.

“I suppose that I should say thank heaven that was Caroline Bingley,” she said shakily, struggling to regain her equanimity. “She is the one person who has more to lose than we do if word of our behavior were to spread, so in this circumstance, there is no one on whom I would rather depend.”

Darcy gave a somewhat ragged laugh. “Do you know, I do not believe that I have ever heard anyone say that of her before.” I have nothing to lose, he thought, and I could only wish that you felt the same. He ached to embrace her again.

The shock and fear had initially driven all feelings of desire from Elizabeth, but as she looked at Darcy, she wished to be back in his arms. “We should find Georgiana,” she said determinedly.

“Perhaps so,” he acknowledged, reminding himself that it was a success that she did not appear angry with him. He unlocked the door and held it open for her, and as she walked past, he caught her by one hand and kissed her lightly, looking for some kind of reassurance. He was relieved to see that she smiled in return, albeit worriedly.

Darcy spent a long night alternately lost in recollections of how it felt to have Elizabeth in his arms, and worrying how she might react to what had occurred between them. There had been no further opportunity for them to speak privately, and although she had seemed calm enough, during dinner she seemed to become more withdrawn. When he walked her out to the carriage, she did not meet his eyes, although she was perfectly pleasant to him. Yet again he cursed his difficulty in ascertaining her feelings.

He resolved to call on her the next morning. She did not want any attention drawn to the time he spent with her, but he could not bear worrying about it for another day. Accordingly, he found Bingley before he managed to steal off to Longbourn, and engaged his cooperation to help him have a few minutes alone with Elizabeth.

The plan went smoothly; although Elizabeth seemed surprised to see him, she readily agreed to walk out with Jane, Bingley, and him, and Bingley was only too happy to take care that he and Jane lagged well behind the other two, and eventually struck off on a different path. Darcy lost no time in taking Elizabeth’s hand and drawing her to his side as they walked, and he smiled at her with a warm look.

She acknowledged him with a restrained smile of her own, but seemed disinclined to make conversation, leading Darcy to believe she was disturbed by the events of the previous evening. He debated how to begin, and finally said, “I owe you an apology for my behavior yesterday.”

Elizabeth colored. “I would prefer not to speak of it, sir.” Indeed, she had spent much of the previous night chastising herself for her failure to stop his advances and worrying about possible complications. She still agreed with her initial assessment that Miss Bingley would likely not expose them for her own reasons, but it had occurred to her that Miss Bingley was capable of seeking revenge in other ways. She was concerned how Darcy might have reacted to her shameless behavior. Would it not reinforce his concerns about the inappropriate conduct of members of the Bennet family?

Darcy was at a loss. How was he to beg her forgiveness if she would not hear his apology? “I have no desire to cause you any distress, so I shall say only that I would far rather hear your chastisement than have this come between us.”

“I am in no position to chastise anyone,” she replied in a low voice.

He looked at her sharply, then stopped and took her by both hands. “Are you concerned that I might be upset with you?” he said with incredulity.

She forced herself to look him in the eye. “My behavior was far from irreproachable.”

With a wordless exclamation he put his arms around her and held her tightly. “My dearest, when you give a man exactly what he has been longing to receive for many months, the last thing that would occur to him is to reproach you for your behavior!”

His endearment and apparent assumption of an understanding between them was more than she could manage after a mostly sleepless night, and she found tears coming to her eyes. The harder she tried to suppress them, the more they threatened to overflow—just like my feelings about this man, she thought, and began to cry in earnest.

Darcy, who was quite enjoying holding Elizabeth in his arms, did not immediately realize she was in tears, and then experienced a moment of panic not dissimilar to what he had felt recently with Georgiana. He should somehow understand what was upsetting her, but had no idea what was the matter, having thought he just reassured her. Clearly it was his fault in some way, and his guilt for causing her distress was great. Unsure as to the best course of action, he tried to comfort her by whispering endearments in her ear and holding her close to him, which unbeknownst to him had the unfortunate effect of fueling the fire of her distress. If only she would share her feelings with him! “My sweetest, please tell me what is troubling you,” he pleaded.

Elizabeth was attempting desperately to think of nothing beyond that he was comforting her. She could never say what was disturbing her without hurting him deeply—how could she tell him how much against her better judgment her attraction to him was? Once she stopped crying, she would need to tell him to cease referring to her in the affectionate manner that he was using. Exhausted with both her constant inner struggle against her feelings for him and the more outward struggle not to accede to the liberties he tried to take, she wanted nothing more than to give up the battle and agree to be his simply to conclude the matter, but she knew full well how quickly she would come to rue such a cowardly decision. Finally she calmed herself enough to respond. “I am simply not ready for this.”

Darcy thought carefully before replying. He could not afford a misunderstanding now. “If I take your meaning correctly, this is happening too quickly for you. Is that it?”

She nodded, her face still buried in his chest.

He kissed her hair, savoring the softness and the sweet scent of roses in it. “We can go more slowly, then; we have all the time in the world before us. I will not rush you.”

She could not help laughing through her tears at his words. “Mr. Darcy, I do not mean to suggest that you are not a man of your word, but I strongly advise that you refrain from promising the impossible. I am afraid that I do not believe you constitutionally capable of not rushing me.”

Her characterization forced a smile from him. “There is perhaps some truth to that. Perhaps I should promise instead to do my best not to rush you, and to listen when you tell me otherwise.”

“That is more credible, sir.” As she calmed herself, she allowed herself to enjoy the feeling of resting her head against him and the comfort of his arms around her.

This lasted only a brief time, though, as Darcy, while far from wishing to give up his current desirable position, was cognizant that he had just agreed to slow down his demands, and forced himself to release her. He consoled himself with the thought that she had, by asking him not to rush her, implicitly acknowledged that she had accepted that they were headed toward further intimacy.

“I appreciate your understanding, Mr. Darcy,” Elizabeth said softly as they began walking again. He looked at her, and their eyes caught in a long gaze.

“I do not ever wish to distress you in any way,” he responded. After several minutes, he added, “There is one matter in which I will need your assistance, Miss Bennet.”

“And what is that, sir?”

“I do not wish to offend you, but in order to keep my word, I stand in need of your advice as to what constitutes rushing you, and what does not.”

Elizabeth blushed scarlet. It was a reasonable question, but she could think of no modest way to answer it, nor, even could she answer, could she have produced a consistent response. On some occasions, one of his intent gazes felt like more than she could bear, but at other times, her tolerance was quite different.

Darcy had to admit that she looked exceedingly appealing when she blushed. Recognizing the impossible position in which he had put her, he sought to obtain the needed information without forcing her to state directly which liberties she would accept. Thoughtfully, he took her hand in his as they continued to walk. “I believe that this is not rushing you; am I correct in that assessment?” She nodded. “Nor this?” He raised her hand to his lips and kissed it, then held it close to his chest, and she nodded again. “How about this?” he asked, placing a series of light kisses in the palm of her hand. She dropped her eyes, but still nodded infinitesimally. “Your pardon, Miss Bennet; I am afraid my question was not clear. Do you mean to say yes, that is rushing you, or yes, that is acceptable?”

“No, that is not too much,” she said quietly, though not without doubts about the accuracy of her answer, given the strength of her reaction.

Tread lightly, now! he cautioned himself. Stopping, he stepped closer to her and allowed his lips to caress her hair. “Is that too much?” She shook her head, eyes still downcast. Taking a deep breath and reminding himself of the necessity of self-control, Darcy tipped up her chin with one finger and permitted his lips to touch hers for the briefest moment.

She closed her eyes at the moment he kissed her, feeling the impossible sensations of pleasure lance through her, and then reopened them to look up at him. “Sometimes,” she said.

He raised an eyebrow. “Sometimes?”

“Sometimes,” she repeated with a smile, then added with an air of impudence, “I never said it would be simple.”

“No, it never is simple, is it? Very well, sometimes then.” He kissed her gently again, but more lingeringly this time, and allowed himself to taste the pleasure of her lips before pulling back. “Too much?”

She looked at him with some hesitancy. “Yes,” she said softly.

He inclined his head. “My apologies, Miss Bennet; I shall attempt to keep that in mind.”

Her hand crept up and touched his cheek. His response to her touch was instantaneous and electrifying. “But please do it again,” she whispered.

He searched her face trying to clarify this contradictory request. There was a look of tenderness in her eyes that had never been there in the past, and he could not resist it. “Elizabeth,” he whispered, and reclaimed her lips, struggling to keep his hunger in check, and as she responded, he drew her gently and slowly into his arms, prepared to release her if she hesitated in any way.

Elizabeth, trembling from the intimacy of hearing him use her name, found her hands stealing up around his neck, and she surrendered into the fullness of his embrace as his lips tantalized hers. But Darcy felt his control begin to slip. Determined not to go beyond the limit she had set, he stepped back. Her hands slid to his chest, where they paused a moment before dropping, only to be caught by his. She smiled at him tentatively, and he tugged on her hand and began to walk once more, knowing all too well what would likely happen if they remained as they were.

A change of subject seemed in order. “I am looking forward to meeting your aunt and uncle. Are they aware of my presence here?”

“Yes, I wrote my aunt and mentioned your interest in making her acquaintance, so she should not be surprised.” She smiled briefly. “I also told her that we were on rather more cordial terms than the last time that you were in Hertfordshire.” She decided against mentioning the friendly conversations that had taken place between her aunt and Mr. Wickham when the Gardiners had visited Longbourn last, but she had also written a warning regarding Wickham’s unreliability, lest Mrs. Gardiner be inclined to hold his information against Darcy.

“She knew something of your past opinions, then?”

“Yes, when they visited last December, Mr. Bingley was still a topic of conversation, and you were often mentioned in conjunction with him,” she prevaricated, since it had been Wickham who most frequently raised Darcy’s name. “But both my aunt and uncle are eminently sensible people, and unlikely to make judgments based on hearsay.”

They continued to talk pleasantly on what became a long ramble, since neither felt an inclination to lose the company of the other. As they finally approached Longbourn, Darcy, unable to help himself, asked, “May I have the privilege of seeing you tomorrow?”

She looked at him with a teasing smile. “I might be able to steal away for an early morning walk, if that would be of interest.”

“You know perfectly well it would be of great interest, madam,” he said, making no attempt to hide his pleasure that she had not only agreed, but had for the first time suggested a way to allow them to be alone.

Looking up, she saw the familiar intent look enter his eyes, and felt an immediate rush of desire for his touch, but their location on an open road prohibited any action. She gave an amused smile as she saw him reaching the same conclusion with a degree of annoyance.

“Tomorrow is a very long time away, Miss Bennet,” he said persuasively.

She gave him an arch look. “I suppose you will say next that no one has taken the time to show you the wildflowers that bloom behind the churchyard wall.”

“Are they very private wildflowers?”

“They never share their secrets with anyone,” she assured him gravely.

“Have I mentioned, Miss Bennet, that wildflowers are a particular passion of mine, and that I hope that they are very nearby?”

“I would not want to keep you from one of your particular passions, sir,” she said provocatively. Gesturing down a path by the church, she added, “They are this way, if you would care to see them.”

Afterwards, Darcy would have been hard pressed to recall anything at all of the wildflowers.