To Conquer Mr. Darcy

by Abigail Reynolds

  “But hardly a kind response! Let me see—‘Nature that framed us of our elements, warring within our breast for regiment, doth teach us all to have aspiring minds.’”

  Elizabeth smiled mischievously. “‘Beauty stands in the admiration only of weak minds led captive.’”

  “Unkind again! I shall refrain from continuing this battle, and kiss you instead.”

  Elizabeth had no objection to this plan. “I wish that I could stay with you like this forever, and never have to leave to face the world.”

  “I believe that I could find it in my heart to share that sentiment, but is the world so difficult to face?” He stroked her hair, enjoying the fine texture of it, and wound a curl around his finger, thinking of all the nights he had dreamed of tangling his fingers in her tresses. He still could hardly believe that she was his.

  Elizabeth colored, not wishing to burden him with her daytime distress, especially as she could hardly claim any lack of responsibility tonight. “Not so difficult, no,” she said. In the silence that followed, she realized that some of her comfort had been lost with her misleading words, and thought of her resolve to share more of her thoughts and feelings with him, as she wished he would for her. Before she could think better of it, she divulged the truth. “But I had a difficult time of it today. When you are with me, this feels so right, so… predestined, but when we were apart today, I felt…” She could not quite bring herself to say the words.

  He caught the serious intent in her voice. “What did you feel?” he asked gently.

  Tears pricked at the corners of her eyes, and she turned her face into his shoulder, shaking her head in response.

  Worried, he said, “Please, Elizabeth, tell me. Do not shut me out, I beg you.”

  She took a deep breath. Her voice was quiet, and somewhat muffled by his body, as she said, “It is uncomfortable to feel I am your mistress.”

  Her words were like a sudden wound in his side. He caught her face in his hands, ignoring the pain of his burns, and forced her to look at him. “Do not ever think that way again! You are not my mistress; you are my… please bear with me; what I say may disturb you, or even seem heretical, but it is how I feel… you are my wife, Elizabeth. It has not yet been blessed by the church, but last night you and I took one another as husband and wife. Every word I will say during our wedding is already true, and as God hears prayers, he knows that my commitment to you is every bit as solemn and holy to me now as it will be when we kneel before the altar; and he knows that in my heart I have already taken you to have and to hold from this day forward, for better for worse, for richer for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, till death us do part.” He came to a sudden halt; he was not accustomed to revealing his private beliefs, and he was afraid that he might have shocked her.

  She looked searchingly at him, considering his words. She would never have thought of it that way, and was surprised to discover that he held such radical ideas, but could see how it was consistent with his attitudes, values, and sense of honor. She could see this was an issue of some solemnity to him, and wondered what other depths he had yet to reveal to her. Slowly she nodded; she could accept what he had said.

  He let out his breath in relief that her reaction was so temperate. Yet he was still concerned regarding her worries. “Do I shock you?”

  Her face lightened with the playful smile that he loved so much. “No, I am not shocked, though I had not known that I was marrying a closet Anabaptist!”

  “Hardly that!” he said with a laugh. “No, I value the worth of the Church in our society, and I believe in the importance of public ceremony and blessing. Why are you smiling at me like that?”

  She laughed, nestling close against him. “This is an unusual setting for a theological discussion.”

  “I cannot argue your point. It is, however, an excellent setting for telling you how much I love you, my dearest, loveliest Elizabeth.”

  She allowed her kisses to speak for her in reply, and enjoyed holding him close to her until the fatigue of sleepless nights overtook them both.

  * * *

  Darcy had, as planned, ridden off at first light, shortly after Wilkins had hunted him down in Elizabeth’s rooms, much to that lady’s chagrin. She took the opportunity, however, to steal a few more hours sleep before she rose for the day, finding herself in the unusual position of being last to the breakfast table. Once she was finished, she found Mrs. Reynolds anxiously awaiting meeting with her, to which Elizabeth readily consented.

  “Miss Bennet,” the housekeeper said, “I would just like to give you my personal best wishes, as well as those of the staff. I was delighted to hear that Mr. Darcy has finally chosen a bride, and I must say that I do not think that he could have done better.” And what a relief that he did not choose that Bingley woman—we would have lost half the staff! she thought.

  Elizabeth thanked her, and assured her that she was looking forward to working with her, and that Mr. Darcy had told her that she could do no better than to rely on Mrs. Reynolds.

  “Well,” said Mrs. Reynolds briskly, visibly pleased with this praise, “I understand that we have a wedding to plan in very short order.”

  Elizabeth hid a smile. “I am afraid that Mr. Darcy has his mind quite made up on this.”

  Mrs. Reynolds shook her head. “Do you know, he told me first that he wanted to have it tomorrow? Well, I set him straight on that, so we have a little time. But tell me, Miss Bennet, about what you would like for your wedding.”

  “Well,” said Elizabeth somewhat hesitantly, “It will obviously be quite small, with no one outside immediate family—such family as I have in Derbyshire!—in attendance, and I believe that it can be quite simple, as well.”

  Mrs. Reynolds’ skeptical face said very clearly that Miss Bennet had no idea of what marrying the Master of Pemberley involved. “Well, Miss Bennet, I appreciate that you are concerned with limiting demands on the staff in such a short period of time, but we must recognize that a certain degree of formality is to be expected on such an occasion. I assume that the Bishop will be wanting to officiate, so it will need to be held in the cathedral at Matlock, of course.”

  “I have no reason to think he would make any such request of the bishop,” Elizabeth demurred.

  Mrs. Reynolds cocked her head and looked at her in a puzzled manner. “Has Mr. Darcy spoken with you about this at all?”

  Elizabeth laughed. “No, in fact, apart from soliciting my agreement to the date, we have not discussed it in the slightest. Apparently there is some information that I am missing. Perhaps you could help me understand?”

  Shaking her head disapprovingly, Mrs. Reynolds said, “That boy will be the death of me! How can he expect you to plan a wedding under these circumstances? Miss Bennet, Mr. Darcy is the Bishop of Matlock’s godson—the bishop is Lord Derby’s cousin—and there is a lovely chapel attached to the cathedral that would be delightful for a small wedding. I assume Lord and Lady Derby will attend as well.”

  “Ah,” said Elizabeth with a smile. “Yes, I can see that he neglected a few details. Perhaps it might make sense to include Miss Darcy and Mrs. Gardiner in this planning, as they might understand the implications of all this better than I.”

  “Of course, Miss Bennet, if you wish; but do keep in mind that this is your wedding, and you may make the choices you wish!”

  “Mrs. Reynolds, I am extremely particular about one aspect of my wedding, and that is the bridegroom; as long as Mr. Darcy is there, the rest is of little importance to me, and I am happy to take advice from you and Miss Darcy on the rest.”

  She could not have pleased the housekeeper more. She believed Miss Bennet was no fortune-hunter, but evidence of devotion to the master was always welcome.

  Once Georgiana and Mrs. Gardiner joined them, planning began in earnest, with Elizabeth looking on in some bemusement. Questions arose about a celebration for the tenants, but Elizabeth vetoed the idea of any sort of wedding breakfast, given th
e distance from Matlock. A final issue was a dress for Elizabeth; there was an immediate unanimous conclusion that her traveling clothes were simply unsuitable for such an occasion, and that it would be near impossible to have anything new made to order in so short a time. Fortunately, Mrs. Reynolds seemed to have a solution in hand for this as well, producing as if by magic a lovely and elegant cream-colored gown of an older style decorated with the finest of lace and adornments. Georgiana, obviously recognizing it, announced it to be the perfect solution.

  “I believe that this would be close to your size, Miss Bennet, and it would take only a few minor alterations of the sleeves and waistline to bring the style up to date.”

  “Whose is it?” Elizabeth asked, fingering the folds of fine material.

  “It belonged to Lady Anne; it was a favorite of hers for balls,” Mrs. Reynolds said proudly.

  Elizabeth looked at the dress in silence for some moments, considering how Darcy would respond. Finally she said slowly, “I will discuss it with Mr. Darcy, and if he feels it to be appropriate, I would be honored to wear it, but without any alterations as to style; if I am to wear his mother’s gown, it should be as she wore it.”

  Mrs. Reynolds nodded, her eyes suspiciously shiny. “Mr. Darcy suggested that you wear one of his mother’s gowns, and this is the obvious choice. Perhaps we should try a fitting to see if it will suit?”

  Not an hour later, Elizabeth was once more feeling slightly overwhelmed as she was surrounded by three seamstresses taking measurements and pinning the hem of the lovely dress. It was far richer than anything she had ever worn in the past; she could see that she would have to ask Georgiana if she could borrow some jewelry to wear with it, as what little she had with her would look foolish next to such elegance.

  “A gusset here, I think, Mrs. Reynolds,” said one of the seamstresses, “and the hem will need to come up, of course, but otherwise I believe that it will suit quite well.”

  The housekeeper negotiated the arrangements to ensure it would ready by midday the following day, as a somewhat bemused Elizabeth looked on, wondering what Darcy would say to all of this.

  Nine

  Elizabeth discovered quickly just how much interest a new Mistress of Pemberley could generate. Although Darcy had only acknowledged the engagement the previous evening, the news had spread astonishingly quickly; when she accompanied Georgiana in calling on the bereaved tenant family, dozens of other tenants found a need to visit just at that moment as well, and at the later church service, she questioned whether anyone had heard a word of the sermon, given that every eye seemed to be fixed on her. Mrs. Reynolds pronounced her officially not at home to callers, pointing out that if she spent her time satisfying the curiosity of all the neighbors, she would have no time to prepare for the wedding.

  Darcy managed to return by afternoon, having succeeded in his quest to meet with the bishop and obtaining the license, and slightly shamefacedly admitted to the truth of Mrs. Reynolds’ assumptions that the ceremony would be in Matlock. “I did not invite my aunt and uncle, though; there will be sufficient confusion without introducing them into the midst of it,” he paused to kiss her lightly, “and we can return here immediately afterwards, if that suits you, my dearest.”

  “I believe that I can manage that,” she said playfully, “so long as other surprises remain at a minimum!”

  She thanked him for his thought about his mother’s dress, attempting to ascertain if he favored the idea, and was pleased to discover that he did. “There is something I must give you to complete the ensemble, though,” he said, bringing her to his study, where he unlocked a drawer and drew out a long box. He handed it to her, and when she looked questioningly at him, said, “It is yours. Open it.”

  Raising the lid, she gasped as the sight of a diamond and sapphire necklace, obviously an heirloom, and exquisite in its simplicity. Speechless, she touched it lightly with one finger, and then looked up to find a pleased smile on Darcy’s face. “William, I… I hardly know what to say,” she eventually said. She had never received such an extravagant gift—nor even dreamed of receiving one—and did not even know how to express her thanks.

  “This was my mother’s as well, and I remember her wearing it with that gown. Most of her jewels are Georgiana’s, but she left me this to give to my wife. It matches the ring I gave you,” he said somewhat shyly.

  She looked up at him, thinking of how much he enjoyed giving Georgiana gifts, and recognizing he likely would derive the same enjoyment with her. “Thank you, William,” she said, feeling words were inadequate. “I shall be proud to wear it.”

  He lifted it out of its case and placed it around her neck, then stepped back to admire the sight. He had long pictured her wearing it; since he associated it so strongly with the woman he would marry, it was almost a badge of possession in his mind. He smiled, thinking of her wearing it in public after they were married, when he would have the right to have her always beside him.

  Seeing the warmth of his look, Elizabeth slipped her arms around his neck and kissed him, a gesture that he returned and deepened. She sighed happily as he clasped her to him, and set to enjoy the taste of his lips, stirred by feeling his strong body against hers. When they paused for breath, she said, “I do love you so.”

  God, she has no idea what she does to me! he thought as his body responded to her touch, his mind returning to her seductive behavior the previous night. A surge of urgent desire took him in its power, and he ran his hands down her back to her hips demandingly. He recaptured her mouth and ravished it thoroughly, then hungrily pressed kisses along the line of her jaw and down her neck. “Dearest Elizabeth,” he groaned, struggling to restrain himself as his body demanded immediate gratification. Trapping her between himself and the desk, he pressed his hips against hers demandingly as he devoured her kisses. His every instinct told him to take her, right there in the study.

  “William,” she breathed, astonished and more than a little aroused by his unexpected passion. “Someone could walk in…”

  “I know,” he growled, pressing heated kisses along down her neck and shoulders. “That is the only reason you are still wearing your clothes.”

  The exhilarating passion of his kisses excited her, and she could hardly keep her own response in check as he began to caress her breast, but her fear of discovery was even greater. “William, not here!” she whispered fiercely, catching his face between her hands.

  It took more than a moment for him to reassert control over himself. “May I come to you tonight?” he asked, his voice rough.

  How could he make her desire him so much? “Yes,” she breathed, her eyes caught in his heated gaze, and their mouths met hungrily as if drawn together by a power greater than theirs. She shivered with longing as she felt the proof of his arousal against her, wishing that they need not wait. She forced herself to break off the kiss, and buried her face in his shoulder until she could look up at him with some degree of restraint. “Am I to expect this reaction whenever I wear this necklace?” she said playfully.

  He smiled in spite of himself. “You are to expect this reaction constantly, madam.”

  * * *

  Elizabeth was amused by the whirlwind of activity around her for the rest of the day. Georgiana felt that Lord and Lady Derby would be offended if they were not invited; Mrs. Reynolds supported her on this, but Darcy remained firm that he wanted no one else present. There were two more fittings for her gown, and a long discussion with her maid as to how her hair was to be done; several styles needed to be tried and opinions sought from Mrs. Gardiner and Georgiana. The Gardiners had decided that it would be best for Elizabeth to travel to Matlock with them the following day, spending the night there before the ceremony, at which time they would be met by Darcy and Georgiana. Plans needed to be set for the celebration for the tenants, but fortunately Elizabeth needed only to observe this part, as she had little to offer at this point. From time to time she would see Darcy with a look on his face that suggested that
his mind was on their interrupted activity in the study rather than on wedding plans, and she would give him a mischievous smile.

  By suppertime she was beginning to be of the opinion that Gretna Green would have been a better option, but she remained sensible of the fact that the demands she faced were really quite modest in comparison to all the commotion that would have occurred if they married at Longbourn. “Not to mention that my aunt is more helpful and far less frantic than my mother would be,” she told Georgiana in good humor. Still, she occasionally found herself looking around and trying to imagine that in two days she would be Mrs. Darcy and the Mistress of Pemberley; it still seemed far from real to her.

  She did not intend to try to stay awake until Darcy arrived that night; she knew that he would not be able to come to her until the household was all abed, and after two very short nights, she thought it would be beyond her ability to remain wakeful that long. She had whispered as much to him when they said good night, and the look of desire in his eyes afterwards left her with a warm, excited sensation that did not fade as she prepared for bed.

  She had thought that, tired as she was, she would fall asleep immediately, but no sooner was she abed than she began to feel uneasy. It took several minutes for her to realize that she was missing her lover, and that even after just two nights of falling asleep in his arms, her bed seemed very empty and cold without him. She missed his warmth beside her, his arms around her, his light kisses to her head as they talked, the endearments he whispered to her. If she buried her face in the pillow, she could just catch a whiff of his scent from the previous night, and it made her long for his presence even more. Tomorrow night will be even more difficult, she thought ruefully. At least I know that he will be here sometime tonight.

  * * *

  Their parting the next day was more difficult than Elizabeth had anticipated; in her practical way, she had thought that one day apart should present no great difficulty, but when the moment came, it was only her sense of decorum that kept her from throwing herself into his arms. Amused by her own irrationality on the subject, she said softly to him, “Sir, I should be embarrassed by how sadly I shall miss you until we meet again tomorrow.”