To Conquer Mr. Darcy

Seven

Their travels continued to the north, and the following week they reached the vicinity of Pemberley. Elizabeth, as they drove along, watched for the first appearance of Pemberley Woods with some perturbation, and when at length they turned in at the lodge, her spirits were in a high flutter. She had been envisioning the look that would be in his eyes when they met, and the image made her skin tingle. A flicker of anxiety underlay the thought; she could give no sensible reason, but there was a fear that he might not be pleased to see her. She tried to regard it as a manifestation of the general apprehension about their meeting, and not as further evidence of her vulnerability to him.

She had taken up pen and paper more than once during their travels to write to him, but found herself incapable of composing anything more than a mere travelogue, which would be trivial in comparison to his letter to her. She had spent endless hours pondering the dilemma of how to allow herself to love him while maintaining her independence and critical facilities, and was no closer to an answer than when she left Longbourn.

Her mind was too full for conversation, but she saw and admired every remarkable spot and point of view. The park was very large, and contained great variety of ground. They entered it in one of its lowest points, and drove for some time through a beautiful wood, stretching over a wide extent. They gradually ascended for half a mile, and then found themselves at the top of a considerable eminence, where the wood ceased, and the eye was instantly caught by Pemberley House, situated on the opposite side of a valley, into which the road with some abruptness wound. It was a large, handsome, stone building, standing well on rising ground, and backed by a ridge of high woody hills; in front, a stream of some natural importance was swelled into greater, but without any artificial appearance. Its banks were neither formal, nor falsely adorned. Elizabeth was delighted. She had never seen a place for which nature had done more, or where natural beauty had been so little counteracted by an awkward taste. They were all of them warm in their admiration.

They descended the hill, crossed the bridge, and drove to the door, where they found Darcy and Georgiana already outside to meet them. He must have had servants watching for us every minute! thought Elizabeth, and her spirits fluttered as she caught his gaze. His smile was barely perceptible, but the warmth in his eyes could not be missed as he stepped forward to hand her out of the carriage. Without releasing her for a moment, he raised her hand to his lips. “Miss Bennet,” he said softly. “Welcome to Pemberley.” Recalling his other guests, he turned to greet the Gardiners, but remained standing so close to Elizabeth that it was difficult for Georgiana to find room to give her a sisterly embrace.

Georgiana invited them inside and offered refreshments. As they entered, Elizabeth found that she could hardly spare a glance for a her future home; her attention was taken by the gentleman at her side, whose mere presence seemed to be sufficient to cause feelings of desire to course through her. They were shown through the hall into the saloon, whose northern aspect rendered it delightful for summer. Darcy led Elizabeth to its windows that, opening to the ground, admitted a most refreshing view of the high woody hills behind the house, and of the beautiful oaks and Spanish chestnuts that were scattered over the intermediate lawn. Under the guise of showing her the prospect, he whispered, “Dearest Elizabeth, I thought this day would never come. I cannot tell you how much I have missed you.”

She looked up at him, and the intensity of his gaze was such that for a moment she feared he would kiss her right there in front of their families, but he did not. “I am glad to be here,” she said breathlessly.

On their being seated, Darcy taking care to be next to Elizabeth, the discourse began immediately with discussion of the travels each party had undertaken. Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner had a great deal to say of Warwick, Birmingham, and Kenilworth, with Georgiana managing to interpose a shy question from time to time. If Darcy and Elizabeth, being more involved in exchanging glances, spoke less than the others, none saw fit to comment on it.

After they had an opportunity to take refreshment of cold meat, cake, and a variety of all the finest fruits in season, Georgiana, with a glance at her brother, gathered her courage and offered to show the Gardiners their rooms, a suggestion that they gratefully accepted, and an arrangement was made to reconvene in an hour. They had no sooner passed the door than Darcy with the greatest of relief took Elizabeth into his arms and kissed her with a fervor that confirmed how strongly he had felt her absence.

She had forgotten how powerfully his kisses could affect her, and had not the experience to recognize the degree to which her own desires had built up during their separation, and so was taken by surprise by the intensity of the sensations that overcame her as his lips met hers. Shivers of pleasure danced through her as he tasted the delights of her mouth, and she ran her fingers deep into his thick curls.

Darcy, intoxicated by the touch of her, the scent of her, the taste of her, could not quench his desire, and ran his hands demandingly down her back, then lifted her into his lap. He could not get enough of her, and he trailed kisses across her face as if he needed to stake a claim to every inch, but even more important than satiating his need to touch her and to kiss her was his desire to arouse her to the same level of passion that he was experiencing. Nothing in his life had the power to excite him so much as when he managed to evoke a passionate response in Elizabeth. Craving evidence of her desire, he continued to place kisses along the lines of her neck, seeking out each crevasse until he reached the sensitive hollow at the base of her neck. His wishes were fulfilled as she leaned her head back in encouragement of his exploration and moaned softly.

Emboldened and inflamed by her response, Darcy stroked his hand down her arm, and then slowly and seductively began to trace his fingers along her leg, first down the outside of her thigh, then exploring inward. The powerful and exquisite sensations this evoked in her caused her to turn her body towards his, craving more and closer contact, and he responded to her unspoken need by sliding his hand up over the curves of her hips until he encountered the temptation of her breast. Her softness aroused him fiercely, and his desire to make her his almost overpowered him. Impulsively he began to caress her through the cloth of her dress, causing her to shiver. The depth of the pleasure his touch gave her only made Elizabeth long for more, and she slid her hands down his back passionately. She felt that she could not bear it; she had missed him so much, had missed his touch so much, that now she could hardly control her need.

Darcy, aware that he was exceeding the limits of his self-control, but so stimulated by her arousal that he no longer cared, returned his mouth to hers, demanding and receiving a response that matched his own. He had to have more, and as his tantalizing touch on breast grew more demanding, he felt the involuntary movement of her hips against him in a way that magnified his desire yet further.

Clinging helplessly to his shoulders, Elizabeth felt the burning sensation of his mouth traveling across her jaw and down her neck, but this time as she leaned back, he did not stop at the base of her neck, but continued downward toward her neckline. As he reached the tender flesh that swelled there, she arched herself forward as if to demand even more. He was only too glad to oblige, and his other hand began to pull down the sleeve of her gown, gradually revealing her bare shoulder. The sight of it begged for his exploration, and he could not sate himself on the taste of her exposed skin. The fact that she was allowing him this degree of license, that she was making small and inarticulate sounds as he explored and surveyed her lovely body, that she seemed beyond the ability to ask him to cease what he was doing all combined to push him over the edge, and he began to run his fingers inside the neckline of her gown as he had promised himself he would not do, ready to plunge his hand in to explore the oft-imagined tenderness of her breasts. He knew that there would be no stopping then, that once he had gone that far, he would not rest until she was his in every way, and he knew he had no right to take such advantage of the reaction he had deliberately provoked in her.

“Elizabeth,” he groaned. “Merciful God, please stop me, Elizabeth!” He did not know whether he hoped that she would heed him or that she would not.

A debilitating sensation of longing ran through her as she took his meaning, and she wanted nothing more than for him to slake the desires that were racing through her, but she heard the desperation in his voice, and somehow was able to force herself to return to her senses. It was almost a physical blow to him as she moved out of his arms and away from him, straightening her gown with embarrassment, her body still trembling with the desires he had roused in her.

His arms felt bereft without her. He closed his eyes for a moment, struggling to regain command of himself. Looking into her lovely, passion-filled eyes, eyes he could easily drown in, he said incoherently, “God in heaven, Elizabeth, I never meant to let it go that far.” The remorse in his voice was unmistakable

“I…” she said, her mouth dry, shocked both by what had almost happened, and by how much she still wished that it had. She closed her eyes and took several deep breaths until she felt a modicum of calm within her. “I know you did not, nor did I, and perhaps it is best to leave it at that.”

“As you wish,” he said almost automatically, then added, “Elizabeth, I have always prided myself on my self-control, but the moment I am near you, one glance from you and it all vanishes as if it had never existed.”

Elizabeth’s mouth curved in an amused smile. “It is a good thing, then, that we plan to marry!”

He was momentarily taken aback by her humor, then saw the value of it. “Indeed, madam, it is a very good thing.” He forced himself to stand and to ring for a servant. “I shall have someone show you to your room. I dare not take you there myself at the moment,” he said dryly.

“I think that is wise.”

A young woman came to the door and bobbed a curtsey. Darcy said, “Please show Miss Bennet to her room, Nan.”

“Yes, sir,” she responded. “Right this way, miss.”

“Miss Bennet,” he said as she was walking out the door. When she turned to look at him, he added, “I am pleased to have you here.”

She gave him an impish smile. “Thank you, sir. I had somehow managed to receive that impression already. Until later, then, Mr. Darcy.”

It took Elizabeth some time to restore her fraught spirits to their normal state after her encounter with Darcy. She could not believe it; she had been at Pemberley not even an hour, and already matters with him were running out of her control. Her vulnerability to him had not lessened with time or distance—if anything, it had increased. How was she to retain any sense of herself when her attraction to him ran unchecked? She needed to recall that despite their obvious physical compatibility, they were prone to virulent disagreements in other areas. It was critical that she retain her independence, or she would find herself being dominated by his forceful personality in all regards. She needed to retain more of a reserve with him, and to keep in the forefront of her mind that her response to his touch need not govern her behavior toward him. How to balance this restraint with her love for him and their eventual marriage was more confusing; now that they were engaged, she could no longer reasonably draw back from him or refuse to be alone with him as she had in the past. She vowed to herself she would find a way, and thus fortified in spirit and resolve, she felt at least capable of rejoining the others.

On her return downstairs, she was met by Georgiana, who informed her that there would be time to take a tour of the house before dinner if she so desired. In easy agreement with the idea, the Gardiners joined them as well. They found Darcy ensconced in his study where he was engaging himself in some business to take his mind from thoughts that were best suppressed. Elizabeth surprised herself by blushing when she saw him, and having some difficulty meeting his eyes, but fortunately the tour offered her sources of neutral conversation to help her past her initial embarrassment.

Elizabeth took great pleasure in discovering the admirable taste of her future husband as she viewed his home. The rooms were lofty and handsome, and their furniture suitable to the fortune of their proprietor, but they were neither gaudy nor uselessly fine, with less of splendor and more real elegance than the furniture of Rosings. She was delighted to discover that from every window there were beauties of nature to be seen. Every disposition of the ground was good; the hill, crowned with wood, from which they had descended, receiving increased abruptness from the distance, was a beautiful object. She looked on the whole scene, the river, the trees scattered on its banks, and the winding of the valley, as far as she could trace it, with delight. She could not have been better pleased, and could barely credit that she would someday be mistress of all this.

She was interested to notice that Darcy, in his interactions with the servants, showed none of the pride or reserve that she had observed at Netherfield, and seemed overall to be of a gentler disposition than had been the case in the past. Never in her life had she seen his manners so little dignified, and when he introduced her to his housekeeper, a respectable-looking, elderly woman by the name of Mrs. Reynolds, the affection between the two was apparent. His attentions to her aunt and uncle were all that was civil, and they clearly enjoyed his conversation. All in all, she felt that she had never before been so pleased with his behavior in company. She hardly knew what to make of the change, which made it all the more difficult to maintain her reserve as she tried to demonstrate her pleasure in his conduct through the warmth of her manner.

After dinner Darcy suggested a twilight stroll through the gardens, an idea that appealed to Elizabeth very much. She had seen enough of the beauty of the park through the windows to make her anxious for a chance to explore it, but she was willing to settle for the gardens for today. The Gardiners and Georgiana considerately declined the invitation, so the two set off on their own. Elizabeth was of two minds about being alone with him again, finding that she both desired and feared it.

“So, what think you of Pemberley, my love?” he asked.

“It is everything that is delightful and charming, and lives up to all the praise it has received. I cannot make a single complaint so far,” she said warmly.

“Then it pleases you? Will you be content to live here?” There was a certain eagerness in his voice, like a little boy anxious to please.

She was tempted to make a teasing response, but a look at his face suggested that this was not the moment for it. “I believe that I shall be very happy here, provided, of course, that you are here as well.”

His look of satisfaction showed how well her words had pleased him, and she was glad to have discovered an indirect means to indicate her affection, since she could not yet feel comfortable expressing open affection and using endearments as he did. “I believe, my love, that it will be difficult to tear me from your side once we are married. That reminds me, however, that we do have an obligation to discuss our wedding plans.”

Elizabeth laughed. “Well, we can discuss them all you please, but I have a suspicion that I have ceded all of my choices by leaving for a month immediately after becoming engaged. My mother will no doubt have everything arranged to her satisfaction by the time I return. At least I had a say in choosing the bridegroom!”

Darcy looked in doubt as to how seriously he should take her remarks; clearly there was little he would not put past Mrs. Bennet. To relieve his uncertainty, she added, “Do you have particular thoughts about the wedding?” She found that she still was not quite prepared to say ‘our wedding.’

“Bingley suggested to me that we consider a double ceremony, which seems a pleasant notion, and would certainly save a good deal of work,” —not to mention making the occasion a good deal sooner than it would otherwise be,— “if you do not think six weeks too soon.” It was far longer than he would like.

Six weeks! Elizabeth thought. I am still having trouble believing that I am marrying at all, though after what happened today, it is perhaps best not to wait too long. She tried to imagine walking these paths in six weeks as the Mistress of Pemberley, and failed completely. “I suppose it would make sense to do so, if you are willing. I could write to Jane to suggest it, and if she is agreeable, she could propose it to my mother.”

“Unless your mother has already decided on it by herself,” he said, with just a hint of a smile. Reaching over, he tidied a tendril of her hair that had come loose. “I am not certain I wish to spend time among the gossiping people of Meryton at the moment. I fear that I am not forgiving toward people who try to hurt you, my love.”

She looked up at him affectionately. “I would imagine not. Your sense of loyalty is something I have always admired, even when I disliked you—or perhaps, in the interest of marital felicity, I should say ‘before I realized that I liked you.’”

“I think I would prefer that,” he said in a teasing manner, “but so long as you do not change your mind again, you may say whatever you like.”

“Though we both have reason to think my opinions not entirely unalterable, they are not, I hope, as easily changed as that implies.”

“I believe you; but then again, I know what it took to change your mind the first time. I am glad not to have to do that again.”

She glanced up at him flirtatiously. “It seemed to me that there were at least a few moments along the way that you enjoyed. Some of your, umm, arguments were quite persuasive.”

“I will not deny that I enjoy… persuading you,” he said, his gaze intent, but then he seemed to withdraw for a moment. He had spent a good deal of time since that afternoon establishing strict criteria for his behavior with her. His loss of control earlier had shaken his faith in himself. “Elizabeth,” he added, his voice serious.

“Yes?”

He chose his words carefully. “You would perhaps be wise not to offer me any encouragement during your stay here.”

She was initially puzzled by his words, but as she took his meaning, her cheeks flushed with shame. She was under no illusion that her behavior earlier in response to his kisses had been anything but discreditable, but had been of the opinion he was pleased by it; certainly it had seemed as if he had encouraged it, on this as on past occasions. Apparently, though, he had different standards for propriety at Pemberley, where he had an image to uphold—or perhaps it was lingering doubts from the rumors in Hertfordshire—and obviously felt she had failed to take responsibility for preventing such occurrences. She felt ill even thinking of it—well, she decided, if he wants proper behavior from me, he will certainly get it now. She did not think she could bear to have him touch her, knowing what he thought of her.

She had her pride as well, though, and straightened her shoulders before she spoke. “Very well, sir; you shall have no cause for concern, I assure you,” she said in a voice well suited for a social occasion. Why, why, why do I keep letting down my defenses to him? I cannot believe that I have allowed this to happen again. She could feel the first stirrings of anger at him, but knew she must protect against that as well.

He smiled, unnoticed by Elizabeth whose eyes were fixed firmly ahead, and said, “I appreciate it.”

“Mr. Darcy, I find that I am feeling somewhat fatigued. Perhaps we could return to the house?” She wanted nothing more at the moment than to escape his presence and the utter humiliation she felt at his rebuke.

His brow furrowed in concern. He had never heard her complain of fatigue on a walk before, certainly not on such a short one; perhaps she might be falling ill. He took her hand in his and asked, “Are you well, my love?” He was startled when she pulled her hand away, rather ungently, he thought. “What is the matter?”

The temptation to make an angry response was great, but Elizabeth forced herself to remain cognizant of the need for her to learn the arts of compromise and peacemaking. She took a deep breath to calm herself, then said, “I am not pleased by your implication that I am at fault for encouraging you.”

Darcy looked at her in bewilderment. How had she come upon the idea that he was criticizing her? Aware that their disagreements had a tendency toward escalation, he sought to find common ground. “I fear that we have somehow misunderstood one another, then, since I did not intend to make any such implication, and it would be unjust if I did.”

Unsure whether to believe him, she asked, “May I ask, then, what you did intend to say?”

It was his turn to look away, his cheeks tinged with red. “My intention was to ask your assistance in curbing my behavior lest it become out of hand.”

“Oh.” Elizabeth’s color rose. “I did misunderstand you, then. My apologies, sir.”

“What did you think I meant?”

“I… assumed that you disapproved of my behavior.”

“Elizabeth, the next time you believe that I disapprove of something you have done, please ask me, because I assure you it is unlikely to be true. In this case, you have touched on something of which I am so far from disapproving as to be somewhat of an embarrassment, so please, do not trouble yourself.”

She could think of nothing to say to that, and so kept her peace.

“One of the advantages of being at Pemberley,” he said, leading her around a corner into a walled formal garden, “is that here I am aware of all the pleasantly secluded locations where one is unlikely to be interrupted.”

Elizabeth raised an eyebrow. “And how precisely do you propose that I help you curb your behavior? Perhaps you could be so kind as to lend me a pistol for the duration of my stay, though I should need some instruction in its use.”

He smiled at her roguishly. “Perhaps you could forget that I ever made such a foolish suggestion.”

“Mr. Darcy, I am hardly that forgetful!” she replied in mock disapproval. She felt her lips tingle in anticipation as he drew her into his arms.

“But please remember this: discovering that you are so responsive to me was a most delightful surprise. Pray do not ever change it.”

She gave him a challenging smile. “In that case, sir, are you planning to converse with me or to kiss me?”

Darcy made the only possible reply.

The next few days afforded Elizabeth the opportunity to acquaint herself further with Pemberley and its environs. She immediately fell in love with the park and grounds, and never tired of walking out to discover new delights, either with her aunt and uncle or with her decidedly amorous betrothed. They visited some of the finer sights of the area, and Elizabeth began her acquaintance with the town of Lambton where her aunt had spent her youth.

More importantly, the time gave her an opportunity to observe Darcy, and she rapidly reached the conclusion that he was a different man when he was at Pemberley. Gone were the pride and distance that she had once thought his main characteristics, and in their place, she saw more of the relaxed, warm, and appealing man she had glimpsed when alone with him in Hertfordshire. His actions were caring and concerned, his generosity obvious—and clearly a byword with his staff—and his civility warming. She was hard put to explain to her aunt and uncle why she ever had a negative impression of him. The difference astonished and fascinated her, and she thought more than once that, had she met Darcy first at Pemberley, they would have reached an understanding earlier and with far less difficulty than they had.

She commented on it once to Darcy when they were alone. He responded, “This is where I am at home; I am never so comfortable as when I am at Pemberley. Here I know everyone I see, and they know me, and we both know what to expect of each other. I have never been at ease among those I do not know well.”

“But you know Bingley and his family well; why would you be ill at ease at Netherfield?”

He looked surprised that she need ask the question. “I did not know the servants, nor the neighbors, and I knew that they were all drawing opinions of me. I dislike the feeling. Here I know what people think of me, and I know that their opinion is unlikely to change if I should make a mistake or accidentally offend someone.”

“And what do people think of you here?” she asked with a smile.

He put his arms around her. “They think I am the Master of Pemberley, and when they discover that you are to be my wife, they will think me the luckiest man alive,” he said, and kissed her with such passion that the subject was dropped for some time.

Darcy was also well pleased by the constant presence of Elizabeth. Knowing he would see her frequently each day, if not spend the entire day with her, put him in high spirits, and her gradually increasing comfort with him added to his delight. After their conversation on the first day of her visit, he found it easier to maintain his self-control with her, and enjoyed each and every opportunity they had to explore the pleasure they could give one another without feeling the acute hunger for more than he could have.

His nights were a different matter. The days between their engagement and Elizabeth’s arrival at Pemberley had afforded him his first good nights of sleep since he had met her. It was an unpleasant surprise to discover that her visit brought a return of his sleepless nights, though for a very different reason. His daytime ease in her presence disappeared once she retired for the night, and he became painfully aware not only of her absence, but also of the permeability of the barriers that stood between them. His imagination presented to him the picture of that of which he was deprived, and the image of Elizabeth, dressed in nothing but a nightgown, with her hair loose upon her shoulders and an inviting smile on her lovely face haunted him. The knowledge that this temptation resided under his roof with only a few feet of hall and a door between them did not leave him for a moment, and for the only time in their acquaintance, he had moments of wishing she were not quite so passionate in her responses to him, so that he could be more certain she would throw him out in disgrace if he ever tried to breach that one barrier. Unfortunately, he knew from experience that it was possible for him to take advantage of her responsiveness to go further than she might choose at a saner moment, and his imagination ran wild with ideas of what might happen if he found his way into her bedroom. He knew himself well enough to be certain he would not act on his impulses, but the mere presence of the possibility kept sleep at bay until late into the night.

Elizabeth, unaware of his nighttime battles, was enjoying her ability to be more at ease with Darcy each day as she came to understand him better. She was finally beginning to comprehend what he had meant when he said that he was shy, and that she had misinterpreted the results of that shyness as arrogance and incivility. When she felt mystified by the changes in Darcy, she need only look at Georgiana, who also blossomed at Pemberley, though not to the degree her brother did. It was enough, however, to reveal a rather sly sense of humor and some of the excitement typical to a girl of her age, and Elizabeth was pleased to discover that her future sister could chatter away as well as Kitty or Lydia could when the circumstances were right.

Unfortunately, several days into their visit, Georgiana became ill with a bad cold, and after making a valiant attempt to ignore her symptoms in an effort to be a good hostess, retired to bed. She insisted, however, that her guests go about their business, and Mrs. Gardiner proposed that it might be a good time for her and her niece to visit her Lambton acquaintances, which would also allow Mr. Gardiner and Mr. Darcy to enjoy an often-discussed day of fishing. The party did not gather again until dinnertime, when the ladies were regaled with tales of the sport the gentlemen had found. Darcy had found the day a pleasant one, but, as he far preferred the company of Elizabeth to that of fish, and this had been the longest daytime period he had been deprived of her company since their arrival, felt that it could have been improved upon. A brief evening tryst in the garden helped appease his feelings of deprivation, but not without exciting urges he preferred to forget as nighttime drew near.

When Elizabeth retired for the night, she could hear Georgiana’s labored coughing from the next room, and found it difficult to sleep thinking of how she must be feeling. Remembering how she had sat with Jane when she was ill at Netherfield, on impulse she made her way to Georgiana’s room, careful to avoid notice as she was dressed already for bed. Georgiana was in fact very grateful to have some distraction from her ailment, and Elizabeth ended up spending several hours with her in the kind of sisterly conversation that Georgiana had always craved before she finally fell into a restless slumber.

On returning to her room, Elizabeth found that she was now too alert for sleep. She picked up the novel that she was reading, but decided that it was too engaging for her current needs; what she required was some dull sermons or some such that would bring sleep quickly. There would certainly be something to fit the description in the extensive library below.

She debated dressing, but dismissed the idea as too much bother. It was well past midnight, and no one would be up and about to see her, and even if they did, her dressing gown was quite modest. Taking her candle, she slipped out of her room, down the stairs, and to the library. Once in the door, she stopped to find her bearings in the extensive space, recalling from her earlier explorations that there had been some religious books along the far wall. Passing behind a series of chairs, she had just turned the corner to reach them when a light to one side caught her attention, causing her to bring her hand over her heart in surprise.

“Very fetching, Miss Bennet.” Darcy’s familiar voice came from out of the shadows.

She could barely make out his form, lit only by a small candle. She blushed furiously as she recalled her current improper attire, but told herself firmly that she was every bit as covered as she would be by her normal apparel, and, after all, he had the opportunity to see her with her hair down before, so there should be no reason for concern—at least so long as no one knew of this encounter. “Mr. Darcy! I did not expect anyone to be about at this hour.”

“Nor did I,” he replied. He had been drinking in the sight of her, illuminated by the candle in her hand, since she stepped in the door, taking in the glimpses of her nightgown beneath the clinging dressing gown, and her long dark curls in disarray just as he had pictured. Though good manners required that he stand when she entered, he stayed seated, knowing that if he moved at all, he would move much further than he should. They could not be more alone, and he had been sitting here for hours longing for her; his need to take her in his arms and make her his was almost more than he could bear. “What brings you to burn the midnight oil?” he asked, knowing that if she said anything at all about thoughts of him, he would be completely lost.

“Georgiana could not sleep—her cough was keeping her awake—and we sat up together talking,” she said, feeling as if she were babbling. “Then I could not fall asleep, and I thought something to read…” she paused, swallowing hard, as her eyes adjusted enough to make out that he was wearing nothing more than shirt and breeches. “… Something to read might help me sleep.” Her mouth felt dry, and her feet seemed rooted to the ground.

“I believe you might be able to find one or two books here,” he said dryly. “Please help yourself.” Or you could come here to me, and I will happily ensure you do not mind being kept awake, my love.

Far too aware of his presence, she turned and selected a book almost at random—it had ‘Sermons’ in the title, at least. She could feel his eyes running over her. The tension palpable in the air, she said, “I think that this should do.” Her gaze was drawn again to the shape of his shoulders, undisguised by waistcoat and tailcoat.

He could see the look of awareness in her eyes. “Go to bed, Elizabeth, while I can still call myself a gentleman,” he said, keeping the tone of his voice lighter than his words would suggest.

She could not help smiling impudently in response. “Good night, William,” she said obediently, a touch of mischief in her voice as she dropped a formal curtsey before turning to leave. She had not gone more than a half dozen steps before she felt her hand seized by his. Slowly she turned to face him, her heart pounding.

“Say that again,” he commanded.

Her breath caught. He looked even more devastatingly attractive from only an arms-length away. It is time for the coward’s way out, she thought. “Good night, Mr. Darcy,” she said sedately.

With a slight smile, he hooked his fingers through the belt of her dressing gown. “Not quite right. Try again, Elizabeth.”

She ran her tongue over her dry lips before finally allowing herself to meet his eyes, knowing full well that he would be able to read in hers how much she desired him. “Good night, William,” she said softly.

“Not yet, my love,” he said. Dropping her hand, he took her candle from her and set it on the mantle behind her, his eyes never leaving hers. Very slowly he bent his head toward hers, and just before their lips met, she gasped as she realized that while she had been distracted, his hands had been untying the belt of her dressing gown, and were now sliding inside. The warm touch of his hands on her waist through the thin fabric of her nightgown made her forget everything beyond the rush of heat running through her as he captured her mouth in a kiss that seemed to demand her very soul.

She felt as if she were melting as his hands caressed her, slowly traveling around to her back in a thorough exploration of her curves. She moaned, her mouth still against his, as he traced up the line of her spine to her neck where his fingertips crept under the neckline of her nightgown. Unable to control the wild sensations traveling through her, she put her hands to his chest, savoring the shape of his muscles beneath his shirt, and slid them up to his neck, for once unencumbered by a cravat, where the feeling of his warm skin under her fingers excited her yet further.

Darcy tried to focus his attention on her kisses, tasting the passion that was clearly sweeping between them, but the rest of his body remained all too aware of how little stood between them, and as he finally pulled her to him, the sensation of her softness molding itself to him stole away any remaining rational thought. He slid his hands down over her ribs to take possession of the curves of her hips, and as he pressed her against him in an urge as old as man, his fingers made the stimulating discovery that she seemed to be wearing nothing at all underneath the nightgown.

He was lost, and he knew it. He could not wait for weeks; he had to have her. Knowing that she could feel the evidence of his arousal, he began to spread kisses down her sensitive neck in the way that he knew inflamed her, tasting the skin of each hollow as she arched herself against him. He caressed her hips, discovering how this made her writhe against him in a most pleasurable manner. If only he could be sure that she would not refuse him…

Elizabeth felt almost wild from the currents of desire that were racing through her; she felt cravings she could not comprehend trying to take control of her body. She knew her danger, but could not bring herself to stop. She sighed with pleasure as his hand rose to cup her breast through the thin fabric. His fingers caressed her softness, then she felt a sharp burst of impossible pleasure lance through her as his thumb stroked her nipple. She moaned, wanting the delicious feeling to return, and he fulfilled her need by rolling her nipple between his fingers as he reclaimed her mouth and drank deeply of her.

He exulted in her response, and, sensing her growing inability to remain upright, swept her into his arms and carried her to a loveseat where he settled her across his lap in a position that left him well able to continue the attentions that were causing such overwhelming pleasure to her. As she whimpered and writhed in response to his touch, he commanded softly, “Tell me you want more.”

She did not want him ever to stop. “More,” she whispered helplessly, and he was only too happy to indulge her need. This was every fantasy he had ever had come to life. After a minute, however, his fingers paused in their attention to her breast, and she looked at him in mute, bereft longing, unable to understand why he had stopped. She saw that he was beginning to undo the top ties of her nightgown; for a moment, sense began to return to her, and she whispered, “William…”

“Shhh,” he soothed her as he slipped his hand into the opening to reclaim her breast. The feeling of her soft skin and the hardness of her peak excited him beyond what he believed possible. “Let me give you pleasure, my love.” His lips followed the course set by his fingers until he pushed aside the flap of fabric to expose her breast. She froze for a moment, but the sensations ignited as his tongue explored her nipple quickly stole away her senses, and as he finally drew it into his mouth and suckled her, she found herself overwhelmed by her need and surrendered herself up to him.

He placed his hand lightly over the heart of her desire as he continued his attention to her breast, and when she began to press against him as her hips moved involuntarily, he finally took the risk of letting his hand travel under her nightgown to caress her legs.

His delicate, tantalizing touch drove her even closer to the edge, and as he moved his hand upward to explore her thighs, she instinctively parted her legs to allow him access. When his fingers finally slipped into her wetness to find her most sensitive spot, she felt her need for him rise to an unbearable peak. Continuing to stroke her where she most needed him, he whispered, “Elizabeth, please let me love you.”

Her only coherent thought was that she might not survive if he did not continue what he had started. She managed to nod slightly, and he exultantly picked her up in his arms again and carried her out of the library, through the hall and gallery until they reached his bedchamber. He closed the door behind him and placed her gently on his bed, then lay down beside her and resumed the activities that had so pleased her earlier. As he sensed her desire rising to a crest again, he paused and said, “I want to see all of you, my love.”

He slipped her dressing gown off her shoulders, taking a moment to caress the sensitive areas of her neck as he did so. Feeling lost in her passion, she allowed him to untie her nightgown, and as he lowered it over her shoulders, his lips followed the same route as he tasted the delights of her newly exposed skin. Finally he slid the nightgown off, and the heat of his gaze as he took in her appearance made her forget any shyness. He found the sight of her in his bed as he had so often imagined unbearably arousing. “You are so very beautiful, my love,” he said reverently, running his hands down the length of her. Transfixed by the breathtaking vision before him, he stripped off his shirt before returning to her.

Elizabeth drank in the sight of him. The beauty of his bare torso only made her want even more, and she ran her hands down his back, desirous of bringing him closer to her. Overwhelming feelings of desire and love overtook her. She could never have enough of him. She longed for the completion that she instinctively knew that only he could bring her.

Darcy moaned her name, knowing that he could wait no longer, and began to tear at the buttons on his breeches until he was able to remove them as well. He lowered himself onto her, and as her legs parted to make room for him, he sought out the place he most desired. “Elizabeth, dearest, darling Elizabeth, are you ready for me?” he asked softly, covering her face with kisses.

Although uncertain as to precisely what she was agreeing to, but knowing that she needed something from him, she breathed, “William, oh love, please, yes.” She clutched him to her, entranced by the sensation of his skin against her own, and kissed him in such a way as to assure him of her acquiescence.

His feelings on hearing her words were overpowering. Barely able to contain himself, he whispered, “My love, this may hurt, but only for a moment,” before sliding himself deep inside her. He closed his eyes in ecstasy at the sensation. She dug her fingers into his shoulder as the brief pain came, and he forced himself to stop until she relaxed again, distracting her with deep kisses full of longing as he waited. “God, I adore you so, my dearest, dearest love,” he murmured, stimulated by the feeling of her flesh surrounding him and the knowledge that she at last was his.

The pain was sharp, but Elizabeth found that it was soon overwhelmed by the pleasure of having him inside her. Exquisite sensations overtook her as he slowly began to move within her. She wrapped her legs around him, seeking to bring him into her even further, and as he established a regular rhythm, she felt wave after wave of delicious pleasure take her until finally she was swept away on an astonishing crest of pleasure that convulsed her body. As Darcy felt her reach her climax, he found his own release and, moaning her name, collapsed into her arms.

As rationality slowly returned to him, his first thought was for the remarkable and stunning event that had just occurred; his second was the realization that in pursuit of this same event, he had just seduced his beloved Elizabeth, and she had every reason to be furious with him. A sense of guilt and panic began to wind its way through him.

Elizabeth was still reeling in astonishment at the fulfillment she had found in Darcy’s arms. She knew instinctively that she had given herself to him utterly, not just in body but in spirit as well. Comprehension of what had occurred was slow in coming, and as it crept into her mind, she struggled to push it away. She distracted herself by winding her hands into his hair and kissed him deeply, an offering that Darcy accepted with gratitude and relief, and returned with interest, until, realizing his weight must be oppressive, he rolled off her and pulled her into his arms, shifting the bedclothes to cover them both. With a sigh, Elizabeth rested her head on his shoulder, feeling she was at last in the place intended for her, and let herself relax in contentment, setting aside for the moment the knowledge that there was going to be a price to pay.

As she nestled against him, Darcy felt a moment’s hope that all might yet be well. He stroked her hair and held her close, willing her to understand his love for her. “Elizabeth, my dearest,” he said at last, “I must beg your forgiveness, even though I know that I do not deserve it.”

She kissed his shoulder, then his neck, and then his lips. Stroking his cheek gently, she gazed at him with her eyes full of the love she could no longer disguise. “William… is that what you would like me to call you? Or would you prefer Fitzwilliam?”

He could not but smile at the moment she had chosen to ask that question. “My love, just now you could call me anything you like, and I would think it delightful.” His relief that she did not appear to be angry, or, even worse, horrified, was great, and he could not stop himself from dusting her lips with light kisses. God, there was no possibility that he could ever get enough of this woman!

“William, there is nothing to forgive. You did nothing that I did not allow you to do, and what regrets I have must go on my own shoulders. But at present I would rather not think about misgivings; they will come soon enough, and for now I would rather just…” she paused, lost for words.

“Just what, my love?” he asked with some anxiety.

“I would rather appreciate this time with you, and think of the consequences later.” She hoped that she was not shocking him, but her feelings at the moment seemed far too precious to waste on recriminations.

“Elizabeth, dearest, darling Elizabeth, this is all I want, to be with you like this,” he said, aware he was being incoherent, but so overwhelmed by love for the woman in his arms that he felt the need to express it somehow. He stroked her cheek tenderly, and then ran his hand along her body, treasuring the feel of her next to him, and the knowledge that she was his at last.

She would not have thought it possible, but his touch aroused new desires in her. As his hand continued to caress her, finally coming to rest cupped possessively around her breast, the ache in her loins began anew. She communicated her need to him by deepening the kisses they shared, and the mere sight of the look of desire in her eyes stimulated a similar reaction in him.

As his arousal became evident to her, she tried to bring him to her, seeking the release he had given her earlier, but was held back by the touch of his hand. “Not so quickly this time, my love; allow me to enjoy taking you there slowly,” he said, a warm, intent look in his eyes as he shifted her to lie back on the bed. Previously he had been focused on assuring her cooperation; now he wanted to take pleasure in watching her respond to him. Raising himself on one arm, he kissed her slowly, tantalizingly exploring her mouth until he felt her gripping at his shoulders. Running his fingers unhurriedly down her neck, he held her eyes with his as he began to stroke her breast in gentle circles, gradually moving inward until his fingers lightly caressed her nipple. She gasped, and a smile of satisfaction grew on Darcy’s face as he repeated the action again and again, watching her desire grow. He kissed her again, more demandingly this time, and she thrust her fingers into his hair and held him to her as she sought to sate herself with his mouth. She released him only when his hand wandered lower to stroke her inner thighs, leaving her hot with desire.

But she had been passive long enough; she began to run her hands down his chest, glorying in the feeling of his skin beneath her fingertips. “Show me how to please you,” she whispered to him.

He laughed softly. “If you please me any more, my love, I may not survive the experience!” he said, but he guided her hand downward. His eyes closed as she stroked him, and he hardened even further in her hand as she explored the ways to give him pleasure. His moans gratified her as she saw that she could indeed create in him those feelings that he did in her, and she was disappointed when he removed her hand.

“Love, you do not know what you do to me!” he exclaimed. His resolution to set a leisurely pace had vanished, but he took time to caress her in her most sensitive spot slowly, and then more quickly, until he could see her approaching the pinnacle. He entered her then, and teased them both with slow strokes, resisting her unspoken demands for more, but as her sweet whimpers of pleasure increased, he could hold back no longer, and sought his own oblivion as the waves of satisfaction overtook her.

As Elizabeth gradually returned to her senses, she could think of nothing but her love for him. His lovemaking was so far from her expectations of the duties of the marriage bed that she did not know how to comprehend it, but she had never before felt so close to another person. All of her fear left far behind, she whispered to him as he lay sated in her arms. “I love you so, William.”

His arms tightened convulsively around her at the words he had so longed to hear from her. “Elizabeth, my own Elizabeth,” he murmured, his heart full of a happiness that could not be spoken, just as the bliss she had given his body was beyond any description. “You are so much more than I deserve. I only wish I had the words to tell you what you mean to me.”

They remained entangled together, whispering endearments to one another. Elizabeth was in such a perfect state of contentment that she felt as if she were floating; Darcy, although at least as elated as she, could not keep his mind from inevitably turning to the practicalities of the matter. “Dearest, I believe we had best not wait six more weeks to marry.”

“It might be difficult to do it sooner,” she replied vaguely.

“Yes, but there could be consequences from tonight, and, to be completely honest, I cannot imagine that I could stay out of your bed for that long after what we have shared tonight.”

“Mmmm. What would you propose, then?”

“We could marry here, in the next few days. I could ride to Matlock tomorrow to obtain a license. Or, if it is important to you to marry from home, we could plan to have the ceremony just after you return to Longbourn in, what, three weeks’ time.”

“That would seem a long time,” she said drowsily, the long sleepless night beginning to catch up to her.

He smiled. “I agree, and I do not know how I could possibly let you leave with your aunt and uncle when your place is here with me.”

She nestled in even closer to him. “Whatever you wish, William. You may decide.”

He paused, not knowing what to think of this sudden submissiveness, but he was willing to take advantage of it. “Then I will speak to your uncle in the morning, and we will marry as soon as we may.”

She smiled affectionately at him. “Very well,” she said softly. Closing her eyes, she relaxed into his embrace.

He watched her with pleasure, thinking of how many of his dreams had been fulfilled tonight, and how he would not trade this night for anything in the world. Soon he noted that her breathing had slowed, and a wave of tenderness rushed over him when he realized that she had fallen asleep in his arms. It was far too pleasant an experience to end quickly, although he would have to wake her soon in order to return her safely to her own room before anyone could discover them.

The next thing he knew he was being roused from a sound sleep by a knocking at the door. Momentarily he was disoriented, wondering why Wilkins did not come in to wake him as usual. Awareness of the warmth of Elizabeth’s body against his brought memories came flooding back, and panic struck at the idea of her being found in his room. Leaping out of bed, he pulled the curtains around the bed to disguise her presence. “I am coming!” he called, seizing his dressing gown and tying it around himself. Taking a deep breath, he opened the door and stepped through to his sitting room, where he found a flustered looking Wilkins.

“Sir, I am sorry to disturb you, but there is a problem. There is a fire at the Wheelers’ cottage; there is some fear of it spreading, and Mr. Dawson is asking for you.”

Darcy swore under his breath, raking his hand through his hair as he tried to think. “Very well, I shall come as soon as I am dressed. Are they saddling a horse for me?”

“Yes, sir,” he said, not meeting Darcy’s eyes.

Darcy had never seen his valet look this ill at ease before, and suddenly realized Wilkins must have come into his bedroom as was his custom, and discovered Elizabeth’s presence, hence his retreat to the sitting room. Well, there was nothing to be done for it now. “Wait here,” he instructed tersely.

Turning back into his bedroom and closing the door behind him, he went over to the bed and sat down. Elizabeth’s eyes were open wide, whether in distress or surprise he could not tell. He leaned over to kiss her. “I must leave, my love. There is an emergency, a fire on the estate, and I must go at once. I am so very sorry to leave you right now; I know that the timing could not be worse.”

Feeling suddenly shy as she realized her state of undress, she said, “Of course, I understand.”

Recognizing her embarrassment, he took her nightgown and robe from where they had fallen and handed them to her. “I will return in a minute,” he said, heading for his dressing room. He emerged shortly wearing a workman-like outfit of shirt and trousers. She was already out of bed, as decent as she could make herself, and he took her into his arms. “I am so very sorry to leave you like this, Elizabeth. My man Wilkins is without, and I will ask him to assist you in returning to your room. He already knows you are here, and he is the soul of discretion.” Seeing her blush furiously, he added, “Not to worry, he approves of you. Please remember that I love you more than life itself.” He stole one last kiss.

“Please be careful.” She touched his cheek.

“I will,” he replied, and departed.

Elizabeth kept on a brave face until he was out of the room, and then sank back onto the bed, her head in her hands. Her sangfroid of the previous night had completely evaporated, and shock, horror, and embarrassment had taken its place. What had she done? She felt ashamed and ill at the thought of what had occurred. How could she have allowed this to happen? How could she step out of that door and face Darcy’s manservant, knowing that he knew what had transpired that night? She had never been so mortified in her life. A flush of humiliation filled her, but recognizing that she needed to be out of his bedroom as soon as possible, before anyone else discovered her, she resolutely went to the door and opened it.

The ever-efficient Wilkins stood outside, his eyes firmly averted. “Miss Bennet, I took the liberty of fetching some items from your room. I cannot claim any expertise in the matter of ladies’ dress, but I hope this is satisfactory. If there is anything else you require, please do not hesitate to ask.” He handed her a stack of items that included a dress, petticoats, shoes, stockings, and a hairbrush.

“Thank you, Wilkins,” she said shakily. Retreating into the chamber, she dressed herself as well as she could. She looped her hair into a simple knot at the back, thinking with the ghost of an amused smile that Wilkins would never succeed as a lady’s maid unless he remembered hairpins.

Darcy had not been completely correct in stating that Wilkins approved of Elizabeth, although he no doubt believed it himself. Wilkins in fact had no opinion of her. He had little direct contact with Miss Bennet up until this time, though he knew who she was, of course, and had carefully noted all available information about her. He was a man of powerful loyalty and deep admiration for his employer, and he saw his job as one of simplifying and improving Mr. Darcy’s life. He had strong opinions on the clothes Mr. Darcy wore, the rooms Mr. Darcy stayed in, and the food Mr. Darcy ate. He withheld judgment on his master’s friends and activities; if they made Mr. Darcy happy, Wilkins approved, if not, he did not. He did not see a need to have an opinion on the air Mr. Darcy breathed, for it was simply a necessity, and having observed his master closely during the last year in Hertfordshire, London, and Kent, he had come to the conclusion that this was the category in which Miss Elizabeth Bennet belonged. Mr. Darcy was happy when he was with her, and deeply unhappy when he was not, so there was no need for Wilkins to develop an opinion on her. She was simply necessary.

He was, however, pleased to see that she could conduct herself with appropriate dignity in the embarrassing situation in which she found herself, and he even went so far as to have a few unkind thoughts for Mr. Darcy regarding the position in which he had put her. When she emerged from Darcy’s room, he asked her to wait in the sitting room until he indicated to her that the hallway was clear, and when he was finally able to usher her out safely, she gave him an amused, if somewhat embarrassed, smile with her thanks. Having successfully negotiated that task, his next goal was to find fresh linens for the beds, so that he could strip off the current sheets before the arrival of the housemaids, lest any gossip follow Mr. Darcy. He shook his head over the whole matter.

Elizabeth returned to her room only long enough to correct the details of her dress and to put up her hair. The last thing that she wanted at the moment was to sit alone with her thoughts, and sleep would be a hopeless proposition, and so she went downstairs even though it was far too early for breakfast. Although servants were busy throughout the house, none of the family were yet awake, so she elected for a brisk walk through the gardens to distract herself. Unfortunately, the slight soreness between her legs proved a constant reminder of the events of the night, as were the words that insisted on echoing in her mind, no matter how much she tried to stop them—I am his mistress. The words would not listen to any of her arguments that they were engaged, that this made no difference in the long term, that no one need know. She brooded over how they were to explain to her aunt and uncle why they wished to marry so quickly, with none of her family present, and she discovered no convincing answers.