by Abbey North
She swallowed thickly, unshed tears suddenly blurring her eyes. She blinked them back rapidly, having no wish to cry in front of Darcy. That was unlikely to move him, and it would serve only to reveal her emotions and humiliate her further. She cleared her throat, so her voice sounded strong which she said, “Very well. I have no choice.”
He frowned as he came closer. “There is always a choice, Lizzy. I will not have you deluding yourself into believing that I have maneuvered you into a corner, and this is your only option. You will acknowledge now that you enter into this agreement of your own free will and without coercion.”
She gritted her teeth, but sadly, she could see his point. He would not wish to have a mistress who played the martyr, and though she wasn’t entirely certain what her role would encompass, she could imagine her existence would be dedicated to ensuring he was satisfied and pleased with her. He would not wish to hear her whining or moaning about how he had taken her choices. “Very well, Mr. Darcy. I acknowledge this is the best option I have among those available to me, and I freely consent to entering the agreement with you.”
His icy demeanor thawed just slightly, but the smug smile on his face was no better than the colder one. “Very well. You shall stay overnight at Pemberley, which is quite appropriate. Georgiana is in attendance, as is Mrs. Reynolds and the rest of the staff. I will request the paperwork while you return to Longbourn and help your family pack. We shall certainly have them relocated to London by the end of the month, and you shall arrive at Pemberley, with Miss Jane in tow. Is that agreeable to you?”
“Yes, Mr. Darcy.”
He walked over to her, taking her hands to pull her to her feet. He tucked her arm in his. “Let me show you to your suite.”
“Thank you, Mr. Darcy.” It nearly killed her to maintain dulcet tones when she gave her tepid thanks. Right now, she was feeling far from grateful.
It was true Darcy hadn’t been required to do anything to assist her or her family in their current plight, but he also hadn’t been required to take advantage of it to twist her into a position where she was forced to sacrifice reputation and future prospects to look out for her family. She could only hope his demands would be infrequent and easy enough to comply with, so she could quickly move past becoming Darcy’s mistress.
Chapter Two
Darcy paced his chambers later that evening, second-guessing his proposition to Elizabeth. It was scandalous no matter how he viewed it and was certainly not the gentlemanly thing to do.
Decorum dictated that if he got involved in any fashion, it should simply be handled as a charitable cause due to having some regard for the family. He should certainly not put stipulations and conditions on his help. It was crass to require Lizzy to share his bed in exchange for his generosity.
Despite knowing that, a dark thrill shot through him at the idea of having her under his control. He had longed for Elizabeth these many months, yet he had thought all hope lost when she’d rejected him so harshly at Hunsford.
It was true he could have phrased his proposal more eloquently by focusing on her assets instead of flaws, but the truth of his words still stood. She was socially inferior and technically beneath him. Her family was undignified and uncouth. To taint the Darcy name with them would have been most disagreeable. Yet he had been prepared overlook all those flaws to accept her as his bride.
Elizabeth had made it more than clear at that time she had little regard for him and even less use. That she had favored that scoundrel Wickham over him still made his blood boil, and he clenched his hands into fists.
The nerve of her, to declare she had since discovered her love for him. Bollocks. Did she take him for a fool? What perfectly coincidental timing that her love just happened to coincide with the passing of her father and the soon-to-be homeless state of her family.
That defied belief, and he would have been more amenable to Lizzy’s suggestion of a marriage between them if she had boldly stated marrying him was her best option. Instead, she’d tried to couch it in terms of love, claiming her heart had changed. What foolishness.
He couldn’t say with absolute honesty that he would have married her if she had approached him in a more forthright, honest fashion, but at least he would have maintained more respect for her. With her attempt to lie to him to convince him of her affection, she’d dropped several degrees in his steam.
That had prompted him to offer her the position of mistress rather than wife or helping hand as a friend of the family. Now, he had second thoughts about doing so. Elizabeth might be a conniver, but she was still a lady, and she had her virginity intact. Did he have the right to ruin her because he found her methods of manipulation most foul?
The gentlemen in him knew he did not, but the man who desired and craved Lizzy, who wanted to draw a response from her that wasn’t mercenary, found it all too easy to overlook the rules of society instilled in him via his upbringing. It wasn’t the conventional choice, and many would fault him for taking advantage of her need, but he could feel little guilt.
He decided with a sound nod that he’d acted as he chose, and he was going to stand behind the decision. She had agreed to be his mistress, so he would accept her in that role. In return, he would be more than generous, especially since he was likely to tire of her quickly.
Being a virgin and raised in a gentry family, she was unlikely to know any tricks like the professional women with whom he had lain at the exclusive brothels in London. As a quality lady, she was apt to be boring in bed, and once he had claimed her, he expected to be sated quickly.
That would probably be a favor to both of them, though he would not renege on his word. He would ensure her family was provided for as long as she upheld her side of the agreement as well.
It did leave a bitter taste in his mouth to bring Jane to Pemberley though. That would allow her to get her claws into Charles, which he considered a most unkind act toward his friend. Charles was clearly besotted with the eldest Bennet sister, and he couldn’t be trusted to make sound decisions when it came to her.
Darcy regretted his role in allowing Jane back into Charles’s life, but it could not be helped. Even he was not so angry or past the rules of society to insist that Lizzy move into his home as an unaccompanied female. That would destroy her reputation, and he didn’t wish to play such an active and visible role in doing so.
For his part, he was content to remain discreet about her being his mistress, and he would certainly never reveal to any of his acquaintances that he had claimed her maidenhood once the event had occurred. She might yet make a serviceable match with someone in society once he was done with her. Perhaps he would even assist her in the endeavor.
The idea sent a fierce wave of heat through his stomach, and he nearly choked on bile. The thought of helping Lizzy find a suitable husband did not sit well with him. Perhaps he would keep her as his mistress longer than he anticipated. He was certainly enamored with her, and at one time, he had truly loved her. That was back when he could still admire and respect her, but it wasn’t outside the bounds of possibility that tepid affection might continue to burn for her, especially when she became his lover.
Well satisfied with the night’s events, and having justified his decision to himself, Fitzwilliam removed his dressing gown and stopped pacing in front of the fireplace in his bedroom suite. He climbed into bed, feeling pleased with himself, and fell asleep a short time later, unaware of the smile that graced his lips most of the night.
Chapter Three
The Bennet women had greeted her news with great pleasure. Mrs. Bennet had thought nothing of Darcy’s request that Elizabeth and Jane stay at Pemberley for now. Elizabeth had dismissed it as him wanting companionship for his sister, and as Jane being her natural chaperone.
“Oh, you do us proud, sweet Lizzy. Your sister shall generate a match with Mr. Bingley, and his four thousand per year will certainly do nicely.”
The words echoed in her head, and Lizzy was grateful her mother hadn
’t tried to steer Lizzy toward making a match with Darcy. She was glad her mother was rather oblivious and focused on her own needs and troubles, because Mr. Bennet would not have accepted the situation nearly so easily. He would have asked probing questions, and he likely would have denied his permission at the end.
Of course, if her father was still alive, she would not be in this situation. She could have gone to Darcy with the news of her love, and if he had refused to believe her, she would have walked away a proud, if emotionally wounded, woman, rather than one reduced to accepting the role of mistress.
It did no good to dwell on what could have been, or what might have been. Instead, she could only focus on what would be, and that included becoming Darcy’s lover. Most imminently, she assumed.
She and Jane had arrived at Pemberley yesterday afternoon and settled in. She was rather surprised Darcy hadn’t sent for her or visited her the previous night. Perhaps he had fallen back on his general gentlemanly manners to give her a night’s rest before invoking his right to her body, as she had agreed upon.
She knew she would not be so lucky this evening, so she paced in front of her fireplace and twisted her hands. Jane, of course, had her own room across the hall. It wouldn’t do for her to be sharing a room with her sister when she was supposed to be at the whim of Darcy’s request for assignations.
She was still unclear how that would work, and her heart bolted into her throat when she heard a squeak behind her moments later. She turned to look, eyes widening as Darcy appeared in her room, pushing open a bookcase. “A secret passage?” she ventured to guess.
He nodded. “This is usually the paramour’s chamber when one has a live-in diversion. I can thank some forethinking Darcy ancestor for having the good sense to put in a discreet passageway between here and master’s bedchamber.” He gestured for her to come to him. “We will adjourn to my room—but, wait. Is your door locked?”
She crossed the room to ensure it was. “Why?”
“You do not wish for Miss Jane to realize you are not abed should she come to check on you in the middle of the night. If she knocks, she cannot gain entry with the door locked. You can feign sleeping through her visit, or if she becomes insistent, a servant will notify us. Now, come with me, Lizzy.”
She gritted her teeth and managed a servile tone. “Yes, Mr. Darcy.”
He took her hand, leading her to the bookcase, and the passage beyond. He held a candelabra that he had placed on the shelf conveniently located near the entrance, and it lit the passageway quite well.
Either it was always kept in good repair, or someone had been dispatched to clean and prepare it for Darcy’s use for the next weeks or months, because it was spotless. There was no sign of a spiderweb or dust particle anywhere. She could slip through the passageway without returning to her room with dust on her nightgown. That was a comfort, because she would be less likely to reveal what she was doing with her nights. Jane might notice if she had a smear of dust on the hem of her dressing gown.
Not that she’d had the luxury of grabbing her dressing gown. Right now, she simply wore a thin nightdress, and she shivered as the cold permeated her, though she suspected that was more from nerves than a chill in the air. Being nearly July, the passage was mostly warm.
When they emerged, it was into Darcy’s room. She spared a moment to look around, noting it was decorated with heavy furniture and warm colors. It was a cozy room, and she imagined the mistress’s room adjoining it would be equally lovely.
No, she shouldn’t think of it as the mistress’s room. The Mistress of Pemberley would be a true lady, and her room would adjoin Darcy’s when he eventually married. There would be nothing of the kind of mistress that she was right then about his new wife. Lizzy was certainly no Mistress of Pemberley. Just of Darcy.
That left a bitter taste in her mouth, but she struggled to hide her thoughts as she turned to face him. Struggling for a moment, she eventually managed to quell her nerves and face him directly, shoulders straight and chin tipped proudly upward. “As you know, I am unfamiliar with what you require of me, but I shall do my best to accommodate you.”
“I have no doubt of that, Lizzy.” He stalked toward her with the grace of a big cat, like ones she had seen in a few books. He had an air of want about him that mimicked her own.
She hated to admit she desired him and wanted this night as much as he did. It was so wanton, yet she could not deny her heart beat faster as he came close enough to put his arms around her and pull her near.
Mr. Darcy lowered his head, his lips touching hers. It was their first kiss, and it was hard and soft, gentle and rough, and most of all, full of urgent need. It was a million different emotions and conflicting sensations all wrapped in one, and Lizzy had not expected such a gamut of emotions from just the simple touch of a man’s lips to hers.
She had never been kissed, especially like this, by a man who seemed compelled to leave his mark on her. She reveled in the taste of heaven and the feel of his mouth against hers, his tongue pressing insistently into her mouth, stroking, probing, and massaging before he sucked on her lower lip. She retaliated by biting his gently, and he stepped back. She stared at him with wonder and a hint of concern. Had she done something wrong to have him pull back so abruptly?
“Do you require assistance disrobing?” His voice sounded raspy.
She shook her head, noticing for the first time that Darcy wore only a night shirt. She blushed at the sight of his calves, which was ridiculous, since the man’s tongue had been in her mouth seconds ago.
“Then do so.” He was brusque with the request as he turned away from her to remove his night shirt. He seemed…a bit shy, or perhaps just awkward.
Lizzy’s eyes widened as the implications occurred to her. “Is this your first time as well, Mr. Darcy?”
He turned to face her, revealing his full nudity. “Do not be ridiculous, Lizzy. I believed I mentioned young men are taught how to prevent pregnancy?”
She nodded, mystified where the conversation was heading until she recalled his mention of lesser-quality women and London brothels at their last meeting, when she had agreed to this deal.
“That is generally part of a certain type of tutelage men of my station receive from…particular ladies of the evening. Few young men will pass up the opportunity to shed their virginity as quickly as possible, I assure you.”
She scowled, not liking to think of him with those bawdy women. “How old were you when you shed yours with utmost vigor, Mr. Darcy?”
“Fourteen.” He sounded unconcerned, and his gaze darkened. “I requested you disrobe, Lizzy. Do you require my assistance?” He seemed to relish the idea as he fisted his hand for a moment before relaxing.
Lizzy could not decide whether it would be worse to completely undress of her own volition or to have him do it. As he took a step toward her, she made a hasty decision and removed the nightgown. Her breasts were bared, since she wore no chemise beneath, but the petticoat with a slit in it for convenience shielded her lower half.
This time, there was no doubt or hesitation in him as he walked toward her. Darcy pulled her into his arms, and she shivered at the contact with his bare skin. His hands made short work of the petticoat, and then she was as naked as him.
He stroked her breasts confidently, his mouth sucking on her nipples and areola, drawing inside as much of her breast as he could when he lowered his head. Lizzy gasped at the sensation, not having expected it to feel so pleasing. She squirmed and arched her back to offer him more.
A gasp escaped her when he picked her up in his arms and laid her on the bed seconds later, as though she weighed nothing. She scrambled backward, unsure if she was trying to escape or just give him room to join her. She had no time to discern, because he laid down atop her, trapping her in a delicious fashion that made her glad to be at his mercy.
His mouth paid special attention to her breasts for several long minutes, making Lizzy squirm and cry out with each tender swipe of his
tongue or slightly painful scrape of his teeth against a sensitive bud. When he pulled back, she was briefly relieved and then disappointed. Then she was just shocked as his mouth moved down her stomach. “Whatever are you doing, Mr. Darcy?”
He did not bother to answer. Instead, his mouth sought out the core of her, and she parted her thighs instinctively, whimpering at the first touch of his lips against her lower ones.
He licked the outside of her mound before his tongue flicked inside, first teasing her nubbin lightly before dipping lower, exploring the length of her quim prior to slipping into her opening. He paused at the barrier, an artifact from her virginal life that would soon be gone. That gave her pause.
“Stop,” she said softly.
He looked up but wiggled his tongue inside her sheath instead of stopping or replying.
She moaned again. “Wait. This cannot be proper, Mr. Darcy.”
He pulled away for a few seconds, wearing a smile that held amusement, but also something darker. “I believe it should be obvious that neither of us are entirely proper, Lizzy. Now lie back and enjoy this.”
With no alternative, and no real desire to insist he stop despite her shocked sense of propriety, she moaned and arched against him, bucking her hips in urgent need as he flicked his tongue in and out of her cunny before moving slightly higher again, this time engulfing her pearl in his mouth and sucking firmly. The suction, coupled with the way he flicked his tongue across that swollen nub, sent her flying apart, and she screamed out his name. She quickly stifled the cry by turning her head to bite on the goose-feather pillow.
As her orgasm crested, she was vaguely aware of Mr. Darcy shifting positions to retrieve something from the bedside table. She looked with interest as he opened a leather pouch and removed something thin and translucent. It resembled a tube. “Pray, what is that, Mr. Darcy?”