When they finally arrived back at the Darcy townhouse, they were greeted by the entire staff, lined up to meet Mrs. Darcy and to give the master their felicitations. Elizabeth did her best to try to learn names and faces, though afterward it would seem somewhat of a blur to her. The staff, apparently warned by Colonel Fitzwilliam as to his plans, had laid on an elegant luncheon for the new couple for which Elizabeth expressed her appreciation while noticing that Darcy, who had reached the point of little tolerance for other people, was becoming quite silent. It was not until after the footmen had cleared away the last of the meal they were left quite alone.
Darcy breathed a sigh of relief. “Sometimes I think that there are far too many people in the world,” he said to Elizabeth's amusement.
“I fear that is part of the price of being a pillar of society.”
Reaching over to take her hand, he drew her onto his lap, where she settled in with a happy sigh. Cradling her in his arms, he gave her an exploratory kiss which sent tingles of excitement through her as she inevitably thought of what was to come that night. “I am glad to have you to myself finally,” he admitted, trying to find a way to raise the subject of that morning which still concerned him. Although she no longer seemed to be upset, she obviously had been earlier, and he was gradually learning the danger of being unaware of Elizabeth's thoughts and concerns. Finally he decided in favor of straightforwardness, and said, “You worried me earlier - you were so pale at the church, my love.”
Elizabeth coloured. “I feel quite foolish about it. I fear that I had worked myself up to a set of nerves which would not disgrace my mother, and all over a rather silly matter.”
“And what was the matter that you find silly, dearest?” he prompted.
“You will not laugh? I was panicked over being alone; I missed having Jane with me, or my aunt, and by the time I reached the church I would have settled for my mother or Mary! Somehow having my father there did not provide the reassurance that I would have found in having another woman with me. There - I told you it was foolish; I know that there were excellent reasons for marrying now, and that the most important part is being married, not who was present at the wedding.”
He wondered guiltily if he should have refused to compromise on the wedding date. “My dearest love, what could be more natural than to want your family around you on your wedding day? I am so sorry that you did not; I wish that we could have had the wedding you would have liked, and I know it is because of me that it had to be this way. And, while I cannot complain of being displeased with the result --” he paused to kiss her lingeringly, and ran a finger down her neck until his hand rested lightly on her exposed shoulder, “I would have rather waited and married as you had wished.”
The touch of his hand created an exquisite sense of warmth in her, and she wondered distractedly how such a slight contact could be felt throughout her. Her lips began to tingle with anticipation, and she had to force herself to concentrate on the conversation. “Had we waited, I would no doubt be complaining of how irritating my family was, and how I wished we could have married without any of them! No, William, I am simply difficult to please, and it certainly is not because of you that we married now; Wickham and Lydia must bear the entire brunt of that burden.” Her mouth felt suddenly dry.
He saw a delightful flush rising in her cheeks, and experimentally let his thumb explore her neck, his hand otherwise remaining in place. “I am only grateful, my loveliest Elizabeth, that we need no longer be parted. I must confess that I was finding it a difficult adjustment having you halfway across the city after being with you at Pemberley. I had become quite accustomed to having you nearby.” The look on her face and the feeling of her in his arms was beginning to wreak havoc on his sensibilities, and his awareness of her arousal made it increasingly difficult to consider waiting until the night.
Feeling that her entire being was concentrated in those few inches of skin that he was caressing so lightly, she found her eyes drifting to his lips, which looked so tempting that she could not help but to run her fingers along them. She heard his indrawn breath, and felt a shock of sensation as he took her finger into his mouth, catching it lightly between his teeth and running his tongue along the tip. She felt barely able to control her response; her entire body seemed to be demanding something more, and her susceptibility to him was rising as each minute went by. How can he possibly induce such feelings in me? she wondered with a degree of desperation. This has to stop, or I will be reduced to begging him to take me, and it is a very long time until we retire!
His desire for her was mounting by the minute, intensified by her look of longing, and as she closed her eyes, moving her body against his, he knew that delaying the inevitable was rapidly becoming beyond him. His thoughts began to drift ahead to what lay before them, and before he knew it he had released her finger to take hungry possession of her mouth. Beyond the realm of thought, she whispered yearningly, “Oh, William, my love.”
The imploring sound of his name on her lips was more than he could bear, and he shifted his arms under her. “Elizabeth, dearest, loveliest Elizabeth,” he breathed as he tasted the tender skin of her neck. “I can wait no longer.” He stood with her in his arms, his heart pounding as he realized that she was making no protest, but rather held herself as close as possible to him as he carried her to the stairs. She was his wife, and she was his for the taking, and he could not imagine anything more glorious in the universe.
Afterwards Elizabeth lay in Darcy's arms, her head resting intimately on his shoulder, a slight smile upon her lips. He tangled his hand in her long curls, enjoying the pleasure of her presence beside him, and the knowledge that she was finally his. He had waited so long for this, had dreamed of it and despaired of it, and now she was in truth his wife, and apparently content to be so. He had found in her all the passion that he could have wished for, and he knew that he would be grateful for the rest of his days to have her at his side.
He was not inexperienced, but he had never known that lovemaking could be like this; that it could touch him so deeply and leave him feeling so completely accepted and yet vulnerable at the same moment. His gratitude for her love was profound, and he felt completed in a way he could never have understood in the past, and it seemed to open a capacity for happiness that was new to his experience. “Elizabeth, my most beloved Elizabeth,” he murmured, only half conscious that he was speaking aloud.
Elizabeth, feeling a sense of peace and contentment unusual to her high spirits, put her hand to his cheek. He had been a gentle and thoughtful lover, and had raised her to heights of excitement and fulfilment she had never dreamed existed. She felt astonished at the feelings he had created in her, and she knew instinctively that he now knew and possessed a part of her that no one else ever would. She said softly, “I love you so, William,” the words she found so difficult to say at other times coming fluently to her lips at this intimate moment.
He smiled gently. “I will always be yours,” he said, holding her as if he would never let her go. Concerned, however, for her experience, he asked tenderly, “Is everything well, my love?”
She nestled closer to him, kissing his chin lightly, feeling that words could not do justice to how she felt at that moment. “Nothing could be better, nothing at all, William.”
He smiled warmly at her. “I am glad to hear it, my wife,” he said. Her heart raced a little at the appellation that was still so new to her as he caught her mouth with his for an intimate kiss. “I wish we could tell Georgiana and Fitzwilliam to stay away for a week.”
She opened her eyes wide with a mocking look of innocence. “Only a week, my husband?”
“I think, my dearest love, that it may take years to satisfy me,” he said, easing her off his shoulder so that he could prop himself up beside her. “Many years indeed.” Gazing into her eyes, he caressed her cheek tenderly. “I do have a great deal of time to make up for, you know.”
She ran a finger lightly down his chest. “Then you ha
d best start working at it now.”
A slow smile dawned on his face, and he answered her in the only way possible.
Author’s Note: This story is an excerpt from a longer work, The Rule of Reason, which is not formally published owing to its overlap with Impulse & Initiative. If you would read more of The Rule of Reason, you can find it on www.lulu.com.
The Most Natural Thing
A Novella in 3 parts
This is a writing challenge story, dating from a time when ‘Dark Darcy’ stories were popular in the on-line Austen fan fiction community. I don’t see Darcy as a dark character, so I decided to see what would happen if I put my Mr. Darcy in the shoes of the ‘Dark Darcy,’ with a golden opportunity to take advantage of Elizabeth Bennet’s misfortunes. This novella is in three parts. The first was the original story I wrote, and the other parts came years later when my Muse insisted that there was more to the story.
Part I
“Sir, there is a Miss Bennet to see you.” Simms’ tone expressed his dubious opinion of any young lady who would call on his master. “Shall I tell her you are out?”
It was a moment before Darcy was able to make sense of the butler’s words, and even then he doubted his ears. “Did you say Miss Bennet?” He could barely bring himself to pronounce the words. “Miss Elizabeth Bennet?”
“She did not give her name, sir, nor did she provide a card.” Simms sniffed in disapproval.
It could not be Elizabeth. What more could she possibly have to say to him after her cold words at Hunsford not a fortnight past? It would make more sense for it to be Miss Jane Bennet, pleading for another chance with Mr. Bingley, but he could not imagine her behaving with such impropriety as to call upon a single gentleman. He could imagine Elizabeth breaking such rules, but why?
There could only be one reason. She must have told her mother of his proposal, and been instructed to change her tune. Well, it was far too late for that. He would prove to her he was not a fool to be played upon. “Show her in,” he said brusquely. He took a bracing gulp from the half-empty glass of port beside him and straightened his cravat, hoping the room’s dim light would disguise his weary features. It would not do to have her know he had been pining over her. In truth, he had been pining over a fantasy.
Almost involuntarily he stood at the sound of her light footsteps, even before her all-too-familiar form slipped in the door. He acknowledged her with a bare nod of his head and silently gestured to a chair. He forced himself to examine her critically, noting the flaws in her complexion and the asymmetry of her form in an ill-fitting dark dress, avoiding those deep, deceptive eyes.
She sat, folding and unfolding her hands in her lap. He felt no inclination to make this easy for her, so he said nothing, though the scent of lavender that drifted across to him made him slightly dizzy.
Finally she took a deep breath. “Thank you for receiving me. I apologize for the imposition, which I would not have made were my circumstances any less desperate.”
Desperate? He had not expected such melodrama from Elizabeth, but perhaps it was all part of the plan to make him compromise her and be forced to marry her. She had compromised herself enough coming here by herself; he wondered if she considered the extent to which he could ruin her reputation with a word. But even so, he felt a fleeting temptation to go along with her scheme, but then her insulting words at Hunsford rang in his ears again. She did not deserve any recognition from him. “Desperate, Miss Bennet?” he said with cold irony.
For a moment her eyes flamed, then, to his surprise, the fire was banked. Something had quelled her spirit. He wondered what punishment her mother had inflicted upon her to make her throw herself on the last man in the world she could be prevailed upon to marry. The memory of her angry countenance as she had spat those words at him made his spine stiffen.
“I am here to beg your assistance, although I have given you no reason to grant it. I should preface my request with an apology for the unfair things I said to you owing to my foolish misapprehension of Mr. Wickham, but I doubt you are in any mood to hear it, so I will come directly to my point. I have already paid bitterly for my mistaken impression of him. My family’s circumstances have changed dramatically since we last met, owing to Mr. Wickham. My youngest sister, in her foolish ignorance, has run off with him. You know him too well to doubt the outcome. She has nothing to tempt him, and I fear she is lost forever.”
The one appeal he had not expected, and the one he could not refuse. Still, he would not weaken, nor allow her to guess anything of the power she still held over him, despite everything she had said and done. “I am sorry to hear it. What has your father done to remedy the situation?”
“My father….” Her voice caught, and her eyes dropped. “My father will never again remedy any situation, which brings me to my request. You, sir, have great influence with my cousin, Mr. Collins. He has already taken possession of Longbourn, which was left to him under entail, and once he heard of Lydia’s circumstances, he refused to allow my mother and other sisters to remain there. They are staying with relatives for the moment, but that situation cannot continue. I would ask you to use your influence to convince Mr. Collins to allow my family to return, perhaps to a cottage on the estate. Nothing can be done for my poor sister Lydia, but if you could find it in your heart to intercede on behalf of my family, I would be grateful. Beyond grateful.”
There, she had said it. Elizabeth waited, her heart cold in her chest, for his response. He was her last hope, and she could only hope that his interest in her had not waned so much as to refuse this opportunity.
“On your own behalf as well, if you are to live with your family.”
The candle on his desk hissed and sputtered, sending off an acrid trail of smoke. She swallowed hard. He was going to make her say it. Well, she had fallen this far, and the words made no difference in any case. Mustering her courage, she met his haughty eyes. “Not on my own behalf. I will not be returning to my family. I ceded that option when I came to you.”
Not a flicker of expression crossed his face. She had expected a look of triumph, at least, at the knowledge that the proposals which she had proudly spurned only two weeks ago, would now have been gladly and gratefully received. She had hoped he would be generous in his victory. How quickly her life had changed! From refusing to be his wife, to offering him her virtue in exchange for her family’s safety. It was the only currency she had, so there was no choice. What did her dignity matter now?
Faced with his stony silence, she said, “I believe it is the mode in such circumstances for the lady to smile sweetly and flutter her eyelashes in an appealing manner, but I fear it is beyond me at the moment. However, I promise to show you respect in all ways.”
His mouth twisted. “Go home, Miss Bennet. I will see what I can do.”
Elizabeth spent the next few days in sick anticipation, unsure whether Mr. Darcy would aid her or leave her to her fate. Oh, how she wished she had been more moderate in her speech when she had refused his proposal! She would pay for the rest of her life for her prideful errors.
The waiting and not knowing was the worst. She was surprised Mr. Darcy had not availed himself of her offer immediately. From the novels she had read, she had assumed men had little self-control in these matters. But Mr. Darcy was nothing if not self-controlled, and she supposed it was in character for him to keep his part of the bargain before demanding his payment. At least he had not taken advantage of her and then dismissed her without assistance. It would have been within his power, but she thought from his letter that he was not that sort of man. If he agreed to a bargain, he would keep it.
She was frightened by what was to come. Under the circumstances, she could not ask her aunt what to expect, as she might have were this to be a wedding, rather than a fall from grace. Soon she and Lydia would be in the same position, but at least in her case she would have the comfort of knowing her family was safe because of her actions.
A commotion in the front hall caught h
er attention. Could that be Lydia’s voice she heard? She caught up her skirts and hurried down, only to discover the completely unanticipated sight of her sister on Wickham’s arm, laughing with her aunt. Despite everything, Elizabeth felt a rush of relief at the knowledge that her sister was safe.
“Lydia!” she cried.
Lydia laughed. “No, Lizzy, now I am Mrs. Wickham! We were wed this morning!” She held out her hand, displaying a narrow gold band.
“Married?” Elizabeth’s mouth was dry. She had been so certain that Lydia was lost forever, that Wickham would never marry her, but she had been wrong yet again. Why, oh, why had Lydia not been in communication with them? Had she known, she would never have had to go to Mr. Darcy and make her bargain with the devil. But now it was too late. She doubted he would release her, and her reputation was completely within his power.
Elizabeth lifted her chin. If this was to be her fate, she would meet it with courage. She would not to think of what Lydia’s impulsiveness had cost her. Lydia would suffer eventually in turn, as Elizabeth was certain that Wickham’s smiles and charm would fade soon enough and his true character would emerge. He was the true source of her misery. Lydia had been wild and thoughtless, but Wickham must have known the pain this would cause the Bennet family.
A Pemberley Medley (A Pride & Prejudice Variation) Page 15