To Conquer Mr. Darcy

by Abigail Reynolds

  The startled look on Darcy’s face could not hide the delight he felt. He was painfully aware that Elizabeth had neatly avoided ever saying anything that would indicate the state of her affections regarding him, even when accepting his proposal, and he had suffered occasional moments of distress since then when he remembered Mr. Bennet telling him that he had instructed Elizabeth to accept his proposal, and wondered what role that may have had in her acceptance. “You will be in my mind constantly,” he said quietly.

  She looked up at him with a sober gaze, unsure how best to respond in a serious interchange of this sort with him. She had worked to keep their conversations in the past light-hearted, and was more intimidated than she cared to admit by the prospect of a serious discussion of their feelings. In fact, she found the idea terrifying. Fortunately, rescue was at hand in the form of her family.

  Darcy paid his respects to the Gardiners, who were already seated in the carriage, and to Mr. and Mrs. Bennet before taking the liberty of handing Elizabeth in. After a brief but heartfelt farewell, they drove off. Elizabeth turned to watch him as they departed, trying to memorize his features, and marveling at the amazing sight of Darcy ensconced among her family.

  * * *

  The travellers stopped for the night in Oxford, arriving with enough daylight left to wander the streets and see the sights before settling in at their inn. Elizabeth duly admired the beauty of the ancient buildings of the colleges, and the newer, but equally striking, Radcliffe Camera. She had looked forward to visiting Oxford, but now she found that her mind tended to wander from their surroundings to a certain dark-haired gentleman. Climbing the tower of the magnificent University Church provided some physical relief for her agitated spirits, and she managed to enjoy the spectacular view over the spires of the town for some minutes before her thoughts drifted to the letter Darcy had given her, wondering what it contained.

  She waited to read it until she had some privacy at the inn after dinner, while her aunt and uncle went out to enjoy a twilight stroll along the river. She held it in her hands for several minutes before opening it, and finally broke the seal with the Darcy crest—Soon to be mine, as well! she thought with a sense of unreality.

  My dearest Elizabeth,

  I hope that your first day’s travels have gone well, and that this finds you comfortably situated and enjoying your surroundings. I have no doubts that by the time you read this, I will be fully engaged in mourning your absence and treasuring the memories of our last weeks together to assist me through the days to come.

  There was so much that I would have liked to have the opportunity to say to you today, so many thoughts I would have liked to share with you on the long hoped for occasion of your acceptance of my hand. But it was not to be, given the circumstances, both joyful and distressing, which distracted us from the important business of communicating to one another our thoughts and feelings on this time of change. I know that your interest in considering marriage to me is very recent, but it is no less dear to me for that.

  I was surprised, nay, astonished in Kent to discover that you were ignorant of my interest in you—in fact, I must confess that I went so far as to wonder if you might have feigned lack of knowledge of it for reasons of your own, until I recalled that such deception would not have been in your character, and that had you known of my interest, you would have no doubt found some method to preclude matters reaching the point they did. But my admiration of you was real, and had been powerful since the first days of our acquaintance, and all my time away from Hertfordshire had not been sufficient to put you out of my mind for a single day. Yet I must confess with some shame that from where I stand today, I can see there was something lacking in my regard for you at that point, a quality that would have advanced it from the point of fascination and ardent admiration to the kind of devotion and respect that I have always felt—based on the example of my own excellent parents—should exist between a man and his wife. It was not until I thought that I had lost you completely and irrevocably that I came to recognize all of your admirable qualities that had promoted the depth of my attraction to you. I cannot tell you of the power of my despair in those days as I gradually grew to comprehend that you had been right to refuse me, and to acknowledge that I had caused my own downfall. Your reproof, so well applied, I shall never forget: ‘had you behaved in a more gentleman-like manner.’ You know not, you can scarcely conceive, how those words tortured me; though it was some time, I confess, before I was reasonable enough to allow their justice. I did not expect ever to encounter you again, yet as I recognized my failings, my first desire was to make myself into a man of whom you could be proud were you ever to meet me again. I cannot tell you how deep was my trepidation when I decided to lay my heart at your feet once more, but by that time I had come to realize how necessary you were to me, and how little I could conceive of any sort of future that did not include you at my side.

  I cannot tell you the joy it gives me that you have consented to be my wife. You have taught me so much already, my beloved Elizabeth, for which I am eternally grateful, and the knowledge that we shall face the future together is of great comfort to me. To know that I will have the privilege of seeing your smile each day is to feel gifted with the greatest delight imaginable.

  I would continue at length on this subject, but my time is growing short if I am to deliver this to you in the morning. I look forward to your arrival at Pemberley with the greatest of anticipation. Until then, be assured that you will be in my thoughts and my heart always, and that I am, as ever, yours in every way,

  Fitzwilliam Darcy

  Elizabeth had tears in her eyes as she finished reading the letter. His words of love that were so difficult for her to hear when she was in his presence could touch her in a different way through his writing, and his eloquent description of the pain he experienced after her refusal of his first proposal told her more of the depth of his affection than his endearments ever could. She felt undeserving of so deep regard as his, and could not help but feel that her affections were not the equal of his own. But nor have they had the chance to stand the test of time as his have, and love can grow, she told herself. He has placed his faith in me, and I must try to deserve it, yet without giving myself up to him.

  She held the letter to her cheek for a moment before settling to read it again, and by the time she retired for the night, she was in a fair way of knowing it by heart.

  * * *

  Elizabeth and the Gardiners devoted the following day to visiting Blenheim. It is not the object of this work to give a description of that remarkable palace nor its grounds, but to attend to the spirits of Elizabeth, which remained in some disarray; and by the time they reached the picturesque Grand Cascades, her silence had drawn the attention of her aunt, who had been hoping vainly that Elizabeth would unburden herself to her of her own accord. As it appeared that she would not do so, Mrs. Gardiner felt that her lack of spirits at this point justified inquiry.

  “Lizzy, you are very quiet. Are your thoughts more of Blenheim or a certain gentleman from Derbyshire, I wonder?” said Mrs. Gardiner gently.

  “I am just in awe of all we have seen.”

  “Is that so?” her aunt asked, doubt apparent in her voice.

  If my flaw is to tell everyone else what to do, yours is to tell them nothing at all. Elizabeth recalled Darcy’s words, and his implication that her strong sense of privacy stood in the way of close understanding between them, and wondered why she was avoiding telling one of her most trusted confidantes of her struggles. With some hesitancy, she finally said, “I am trying to make sense of my engagement to Mr. Darcy, and I find it resists analysis.”

  “In what manner does it lack sense? He clearly loves you ardently, and it is apparent that he has engaged your tender feelings as well, has he not?”

  “Oh, he has,” said Elizabeth with a sigh, “although it was barely more than a month ago that I told him that I could offer him nothing more than friendship, and I hardly know what
to trust anymore.”

  “I assume you must trust him, to have accepted his proposal.”

  “Yes, I do, but sometimes I am not sure what I trust him for is what I want!”

  “Why, whatever do you mean, my dear?”

  “I trust that we will argue regularly, I trust that he will be persistent in trying to have his own way, I trust that I will have to struggle for my own autonomy… He is very predictable in some ways!”

  “Hmmm, my dear, it sounds as if he has a will strong enough to stand up to you. I would not be so certain that is unfortunate. I think it would be far too easy for you to find a man who would let you have your way all too often! You are not Jane, after all. I believe that you may require a man of strong will if you are to be happy.”

  Elizabeth pondered this novel idea. Perhaps there was some truth to it. When she did not respond, her aunt added, “And are there not reasons for you to like him, as well?”

  With a smile, she replied, “Oddly enough, Jane asked me much the same question when he returned to Netherfield, and I could come up with very little. I imagine that I could do better now.”

  “And what would you say now?”

  “I would say that he is well-educated, enjoys a good debate, has an amusing sense of humor and a sharp wit when he cares to exercise it, and can be enjoyable company. He is honest, responsible, and devoted; he can be depended upon to take what he perceives as the honorable course, and he will try to be in charge of it.”

  “So, he can stand up to you, and challenge you intellectually, and you can rely on him… and what was it that was giving you doubts?” asked her aunt slyly.

  Elizabeth drew a breath to retort, then laughed, realizing that she had left herself no ground to stand on. “I take your point, aunt, but I still think he is far too persuasive when he sets his mind to it!”

  “And do you mind so much being persuaded?”

  “No, perhaps not,” she admitted.

  “Lizzy, you have grown up to be self-reliant, which is hardly surprising since both of your parents, in their very different ways, cannot always be relied upon. It can be difficult to give up such self-reliance, even when it is no longer necessary, but I do not think it mere chance that you have chosen for your husband a man who is eminently reliable and responsible. You might consider allowing yourself to rely a little more on your Mr. Darcy.”

  “I did not choose him, the fact is that he chose me, and that I have been persuaded to be so chosen,” Elizabeth retorted.

  “Perhaps he is sensible of needing a wife with a will of her own, on whom he might rely from time to time!”

  Elizabeth cast an amused gaze on her aunt. “Well, I can tell whose side you favor, aunt!”

  “And that, my dear Lizzy, is the side of your eventual happiness,” her aunt said, satisfied with the results of their conversation, and now ready to turn her attention to the site of their pleasures. “Now, what think you of the grounds here?”

  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.