by Jane Hunter
Resolved at Pemberley
A Pride and Prejudice Sensual Intimate
Jane Hunter
Copyright © 2018 by Jane Hunter
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
Contents
1. Resolved at Pemberley
Bonus Novelette ~ A Walk With Elizabeth
Also by Jane Hunter
1
Resolved at Pemberley
Elizabeth Bennet awoke with a start. The room was dark and the candle had snuffed itself out, the wax pooling on the table and over the letter she had been writing to Jane. A dream... it had only been a dream. But oh, what a dream it had been. Elizabeth roused herself from her chair and stretched, wincing at the cramp in her shoulder.
The images from her dream swam in her head and Elizabeth felt her cheeks heating at the memory of how her body had entwined so perfectly with Mr. Darcy’s. With William’s... He was coming to see her tomorrow to take luncheon at the inn, and he would be bringing Miss Darcy with him. How would she ever face him without blushing? How could she sit near him without wondering what his lips would feel like against her skin...
Quickly, Elizabeth lit her candle again and undressed for bed, trying desperately to put the fading memory of her dream aside, but as she crawled under the coverlet and settled herself for sleep, she could once again feel the heated touch of Mr. Darcy’s fingers on her skin. Yearning to feel the same way she had in her dream, Elizabeth pulled up the hem of her nightgown, her fingers following the memory of her dream.
Remembering the motion of Mr. Darcy’s hands as they had expertly driven her to the heights of ecstasy Elizabeth’s own fingers mimicked his passage over her sensitive flesh, and she marveled at the moist depths she discovered. Her breath came faster and faster as she swirled her fingers over her wetness as she thought of Mr. Darcy’s darting tongue and smooth hardness as it had plunged into her sweet depth. With a gasping sigh, Elizabeth felt the rush of release pour through her and she lay panting in the dark as the memory of her dream, and the lustful reality she had just created, flowed through her veins.
As her eyes drifted closed, her last thought was one she had mused upon earlier in the day as the high stones and dark woods of Pemberley had risen into view. Perhaps it would be something quite fine to be Mrs. Darcy and to be mistress to the master of that fine estate.
Perhaps.
Morning light streamed through the window of Elizabeth Bennet’s bedchamber at the Lambton Inn and she stretched carefully, still feeling the pinch in her shoulder from the night before and the stiffness of sleeping in an unfamiliar bed.
A smile crept across her face and her cheeks warmed as she remembered snatches of her dream, and the selfish pleasure she had taken before sleep had claimed her.
She sat up straight, as she remembered that Mr. Darcy and his sister were coming to take luncheon with her and Mrs. Gardiner today. She threw back the coverlet and placed her feet on the braided rug. Taking a deep breath, Elizabeth lifted her chin. She would have to sit across from Mr. Darcy and his sister and pretend that nothing was amiss. She would have to keep from blushing and stammering.
Would it even be possible?
The alternative was unthinkable. That she would blurt out something entirely shocking or look utterly foolish in front of her aunt and their guests.
She rose and pulled the cord that would summon a maid. Perhaps some tea and the splash of water on her face would chase away the feelings that were rolling around in her stomach.
Was Mr. Darcy truly different? She could not be entirely sure. Perhaps over luncheon he would reveal himself to be unchanged from the man she had known in Hertfordshire. He would be cold and arrogant, intent on vexing her. Surely, his behavior at Pemberley had been out of character. They had caught him off guard and he did not know how to respond to their presence
There was a knock at the door and it opened hesitantly a moment later.
“Miss Bennet?”
It was the maid, her voice hesitant and quiet.
“Good morning,” Elizabeth replied, standing and pulling her robe around her shoulders. “Tea and some washing water, if you please.” She smiled warmly at the girl, who nodded and disappeared, closing the door behind her gently.
Elizabeth went to the window and opened it, a warm breeze blew through, ruffling her curls and coaxing a moment of relief from her worried thoughts. It was beautiful country, and she found herself thinking that she could be very happy here. London was too busy, too congested, and the pace of it always left her feeling unsettled. She loved her aunt and uncle, but she never felt comfortable in their London home. In her heart she was a country girl, and she didn’t think she would ever lose her love of the smell of the garden after a spring rain shower or her delight in everything that grew from the loamy dirt around Longbourn.
She remembered collecting the discarded eggshells from the ground beneath song thrush nests to give to Kitty and Lydia when they were small. The bright blue eggshells never failed to make her smile.
Elizabeth took one more breath of the fresh summer air before turning from the window to pull an appropriate day dress from her trunk.
A knock sounded at the door again, and Elizabeth straightened as the maid entered the room balancing a tray laden with a teapot, milk and sugar; she was followed by a younger girl carrying a bowl of steaming water. The youngest daughter of the innkeeper, Elizabeth was sure of it. She smiled warmly at the girl and pulled some ribbons from the trunk, noting how the girl’s eyes widened at the sight of them.
The girl set down the bowl of water and curtseyed awkwardly before running out of the room, her cheeks glowing with a stunning shade of scarlet. The maid smiled quickly and placed her tray upon the table Elizabeth had been writing her letters at, leaving just as quickly as the girl, although a shade more composed.
Elizabeth smiled wryly and lifted the dress she had chosen. It was a pale pink, with white satin ribbons sewn at the edge of the short puffed sleeves and around the neckline. It wasn’t a new dress by any stretch of the imagination, but it would serve for a luncheon. Even one such as this.
Elizabeth poured herself a cup of tea and tried to summon some calm. Mrs. Gardiner would see to the details of the luncheon, all she would need to do was sit quietly and speak when a question was asked of her. Her aunt was adept at entertaining and having someone like Mr. Darcy at her table would not be an intimidating thing.
That thought comforted her just a little. If Mrs. Gardiner led the conversation, she would be able to gather her own courage to speak, despite her warring emotions. Everything would be just fine.
Elizabeth washed her face and dressed carefully. She was just finishing pinning her hair when her aunt knocked at her chamber door.
“Lizzie, it is almost time for Mr. Darcy and Miss Darcy to arrive, are you ready?”
Elizabeth secured the end of the white satin ribbon encircling her head and turned to her aunt with a smile on her face.
“Am I ready?”
“You look very well, indeed, Lizzie,” she said with a smile to mirror Elizabeth’s own. Mrs. Gardiner entered the room and stood behind her niece. “I do hope that you are not nervous,” she said, laying her hands on Elizabeth’s shoulders.
Elizabeth’s smile faltered just a little, but she hoped that her aunt did not notice. “I have no reason to be nervous,” she r
eplied. “This is nothing more than a luncheon. I am looking forward to meeting Miss Darcy, that is all.”
“Of course,” Mrs. Gardiner said. “If you are quite ready, we can go down. Mrs. Hawkins has been very accommodating and given us the breakfast room to ourselves.”
Elizabeth took a last look in the mirror, and then nodded and rose from the vanity table. “Very accommodating indeed.”
* * *
They descended the stairs together and Elizabeth was grateful for her aunt’s spirited disposition and breadth of wit. As long as Mrs. Gardiner was by her side, all would be well.
Mrs. Hawkins, the harried wife of the innkeeper had set a table in the breakfast room with what looked like every scrap of serviceable unchipped china at her disposal. Every metallic object had been polished and while some of the crockery did not match, she had set a pretty table. Flowers from the inn’s gardens had been placed into a pewter pitcher and the sweet pea blossoms added charming color to the table.
“Oh, Mrs. Gardiner! You should not have gone to so much trouble!”
Elizabeth and her aunt turned to see a young woman in a gown that was simply cut but made of finely embroidered muslin.
“Miss Darcy,” she exclaimed, rushing over to welcome the young woman with open arms. Georgiana Darcy smiled and reached out to take Elizabeth’s offered hands. She squeezed Elizabeth’s fingers gently as she did so.
“Miss Elizabeth Bennet,” she said. “I am so glad to meet you.”
Elizabeth looked at Mr. Darcy’s sister carefully, and realized that the young woman was entirely sincere in her exclamation. Elizabeth smiled and squeezed Miss Darcy’s fingers in response.
“You are most welcome,” she said warmly. “This is my aunt, Mrs. Gardiner.” She inclined her head towards her aunt and Georgiana released her hands to curtsey to Mrs. Gardiner.
“It is so wonderful to meet you both,” she said. “My brother has told me nothing but wonderful things about you, and I have been longing to meet you!”
Elizabeth’s eyes were on the door to the breakfast room, and Miss Darcy noticed immediately.
“My brother has been delayed, but he insisted that we must not wait on his arrival. He promised that he would be here, and he has not broken a promise to me yet, please... let us sit and talk.” Miss Darcy gestured at the table, and Elizabeth found some of her apprehension drain away as Mrs. Gardiner laughed lightly and pulled back a chair to take her seat.
Elizabeth, Georgiana and Mrs. Gardiner spent a companionable hour together talking of Pemberley and Georgiana’s plans for an expansion of the rose garden and cultivation of a hedge maze, a plan that Elizabeth thought was entirely exciting and adventurous.
Elizabeth was in the midst of telling Georgiana about the wall of ivy at Longbourn that she had been planning to train into an archway when the door to the breakfast room opened, and a red-cheeked maid announced Mr. Darcy’s arrival. As he stepped through the door Elizabeth’s words dried up in her mouth. She had not expected to be so taken aback by his arrival, in fact, she had tried to do her utmost to prepare herself for seeing him, but it was utterly impossible for her not to remember how he had looked at the edge of the lake at Pemberley, water running from his hair and down his bare shoulders.
She took a hasty sip of her tea as Mr. Darcy seated himself at the table. Mrs. Gardiner welcomed him warmly.
“Miss Elizabeth,” he said, his eyes warm and dark, “I believe you were speaking of training ivy... I am sure that Georgiana would be most interested to hear your thoughts as to how to apply that to Pemberley’s gardens.”
“Indeed, William, she was just about to tell me when you arrived,” Georgiana cried, tapping her brother playfully on the arm with her fan. “I do believe your arrival has disturbed Miss Elizabeth’s thoughts. You must apologize at once.”
Mr. Darcy looked suitably chagrined, and Elizabeth felt her cheeks warming ever so slightly as his intense gaze met hers once more.
“Miss Elizabeth,” he began. “I do apologize most humbly for interrupting, it was not my intention to disrupt your happy discussion.” A small smile curved along his lips and Elizabeth bit her lip in order to halt the progress of the smile that threatened to emerge.
“There now,” Georgiana said, setting her fan aside. “I really must hear all of your secrets, Miss Elizabeth, have you thought of twining a climbing rose into the ivy trellis? What a wonderful marriage that would be!”
The pounding of Elizabeth’s heart slowed just a little as she eased back into the conversation, but she was intensely aware of the way Mr. Darcy’s eyes stayed upon her as she spoke.
Georgiana Darcy was an animated conversationalist, and Elizabeth found it easy to talk to her. She was of an age where the worry of finding a suitable husband had not yet consumed her, and Elizabeth was certain that when the time came that Mr. Darcy would see to those arrangements with all the care that she supposed he would apply to such an important matter. It was clear from their conversation that Mr. Darcy was devoted to his younger sister, and Georgiana was in turn very much in awe of her brother.
They were a charming pair, and Elizabeth could see that Mrs. Gardiner was enjoying their time together just as much as Elizabeth was.
Their luncheon ended far too soon, and as Miss Darcy and Mrs. Gardiner walked out of the room together, Elizabeth found herself face to face with Mr. Darcy. She could hear her aunt and Georgiana just outside the door, but she stood before Mr. Darcy with an air of nervousness fluttering in her heart.
“Mr. Darcy,” she began. “I thank you for your kindness in allowing me to meet your sister. She is very charming, and I do hope that I will be able to get to know her better.”
“That is my hope also,” Mr. Darcy said with a smile, and this time Elizabeth did not try to prevent her own lips curving in response. This gentleman was entirely different from the disagreeable version of Mr. Darcy that she had come to know in Hertfordshire. The stiff exterior that he had worn in her presence seemed to have been cast aside in favor of a man that was somehow so agreeable to her as to—
“Miss Elizabeth, I fear that if I do not say this, I will regret it forever,” he blurted suddenly, interrupting Elizabeth’s thoughts most abruptly.
“Why, Mr. Darcy, whatever could it be?”
“When you came to Pemberley, I confess I was quite surprised to see you there. I thought... no, I feared that once I left Hertfordshire that I would not be able to return for some time, and that when I did return...” his words faded away and Elizabeth felt her cheeks flame once more as her eyes met his. “I feared that I had ruined all hope of obtaining your good favor.”
“Oh,” Elizabeth said after a moment’s awkwardness. “Mr. Darcy, after our last... conversation I feared the very same thing.” Elizabeth’s heart shuddered in her chest as she saw Mr. Darcy’s eyes soften. She did not know why she was telling him these things.
She had told no one but Jane how bitterly she had regretted the rejection of his proposal. Yes, the things he had said had been rude and unforgiveable, but she could not help feeling that her own words had been a reflection of her surprise at his offer and her anger at his assumptions about her own loyalty to her loved ones. No love, no matter how deeply it was felt, was worth abandoning all that she had shared with her sisters.
Instead of allowing her words to embarrass her further, Elizabeth turned away from Mr. Darcy’s consuming gaze and followed her aunt and Miss Darcy out into the hallway.
“Lizzie,” Mrs. Gardiner called, beckoning her niece closer. “Miss Darcy has invited us to Pemberley to see the garden for ourselves.”
“Tomorrow, Miss Elizabeth,” Georgiana said with a broad smile. “If you would be so inclined?”
“Of course,” Elizabeth replied. “I could not imagine a finer way to spend a summer’s day.”
Georgiana clapped her hands excitedly and bid them good day, walking towards the carriage that waited for her in the courtyard.
Mr. Darcy inclined his head and turned to follo
w his sister. Mrs. Gardiner, clearly pleased with how the luncheon had progressed clasped her hands in front of her and smiled at her niece warmly.
“I shall have to write to your uncle, I should think that he would like to return to Pemberley to take Mr. Darcy’s offer of fishing in the lake.”
Elizabeth nodded absently, her mind on Mr. Darcy’s eyes, and the tone of his voice when he had spoken to her. Mrs. Gardiner left Elizabeth to write to her husband, and Elizabeth climbed the stairs to her chamber, each step seeming harder to climb than the last. What she would have given for only a moment more in Mr. Darcy’s company.
She heard footsteps on the stairs behind her, and she moved to the side of the staircase to allow whomever it was to pass.
“Miss Elizabeth,” a voice murmured, and Elizabeth turned, her breath catching in her throat.
Just behind her, stood Mr. Darcy. He was close enough that she could smell the freshness of his hair, as though he had just come from the waters of the lake before attending their luncheon.
“I wanted to tell you,” he said quietly. His hand reaching for hers but pausing just before his fingers touched her skin. “When I swam in the lake at Pemberley, when I met you and your aunt and uncle... I know that you saw me...”
Elizabeth gasped, Mr. Darcy’s words were so similar to the ones in her dream, and her stomach twisted as she realized that she had no armor left to shield herself from her affection for him.
As though he could hear her thoughts, a smile crossed his lips before he stepped up and raised his face to meet hers. As their lips met, Elizabeth felt something inside her collapse and her eyes drifted closed; her hand, which had been raised in surprise, fell to land upon Mr. Darcy’s shoulder. The other, Mr. Darcy clasped in his own and Elizabeth thrilled to feel the touch of his skin against hers.