His Choice of a Wife

by Heather Moll

  “And this is why you have avoided being alone with me? You think I judge you harshly for what happened and that you alone were responsible?”

  “The only way to prevent that behavior again is to maintain a distance from you. We were fortunate that we were not observed and that my reputation, and yours, are unmarred. Any kind of impropriety of the kind that happened in the tea room may engender comment.”

  “I hope to persuade you not to alter your behavior now or ever! My one regret is that I let my self-control slip in a time and place that put us at danger of being seen. At the risk of again being accused of behaving in an ungentlemanly manner, I must tell you that I would like you to come to me any time you wish. I enjoy your affections, and I do not want them to change.”

  “You would not be ashamed to have me again act as I did that night?” Her surprise was evident. “It is bad enough that I confessed how much I—” She bit her lip and looked away.

  “Elizabeth,” he said slowly, “I am unsure what kind of expectations you have for our future together. You said that your parents and the Collinses gave you a poor example of marital bliss, and my own parents, while well suited and fond of one another, married for connections and wealth rather than for love. I do not want there to be any distance between us.”

  “I do not want to alter my behavior towards you either.” She blushed, but her voice sounded relieved. After a thoughtful pause, she said, “It is unfair.”

  “What is that?”

  “That as a man you might parade with a mistress on your arm, and no one would question your honor as a gentleman. But if I were seen in your arms as I was the night of the assembly, even though we are engaged, I would be liable to be called a ‘whore,’” she said, whispering the last word.

  That she sought to protect their reputations, he well understood, but at the moment, all Darcy wanted was for her to love him. His notions of dignity and proper behavior seemed wholly inconsequential when it came to his feelings for Elizabeth Bennet. He gazed steadily into her eyes with all the affection he held for her.

  “Say precisely what you want from me, Elizabeth. Do not say what you think I want to hear, or act as you think I believe a lady ought to behave. I have loved you for a long time, and when I recall the sensation of your lips on mine, I feel a white-hot fire course through me. Nonetheless, one word from you, and I promise not to so much as touch you until we leave the church on our wedding day.”

  “You do not hold me in contempt for my words or my actions at the assembly?”

  He gave her a pleased smile. “It does not make you less respectable in my eyes.”

  “And what about the eyes of good society?”

  Darcy looked around in the stillness and dawning light. “No one else’s opinion matters when we are alone.” He took one of her hands. “What are your true feelings and wishes?”

  “My feelings have been in a state of indecision,” she said carefully. She began to toy with the buttons on his waistcoat. Darcy’s throat hitched, but he repressed the desire to wrap his arms around her. “A socially correct bride ought to be repressed by delicate sensibilities. But I look forward to making you feel as I did in the tea room. I know the effect I have on you when you hold me in your arms, and I am thrilled by it.”

  Darcy knew, however inappropriate the world might say it was, that they both eagerly wanted the same thing. If her words alone were unclear, then the subtle downwards glance of her eyes was far more explicit.

  “How…what do you know…?”

  “What do you think married women speak of while the men remain at the dining table?”

  “That might be fine for the married ladies, but how does that explain your knowledge?”

  “The word ‘knowledge’ gives me more credit than I deserve. You have spent enough time with my mother, my aunt Philips, and Lady Lucas to answer your own question. Have you known them to be a soft-spoken and decorous group of women?” A short, dry laugh and an eye-roll gave her his answer. “I thought not.”

  Still laughing at his expression, Elizabeth took his arm. She was now comfortable with him again, and this in turn put Darcy entirely at ease for the first time since they parted at the assembly. On such a lovely day, in so secluded a setting, happiness and love were stronger forces to contend with than decorum and proper modesty. The sun was barely above the horizon, and they walked until they found themselves before a patchwork of fields bordered by hedges where a small cottage sat.

  “A tenant will inhabit the cottage this autumn, but the roof is damaged,” Elizabeth explained. “Since it need not be done immediately, my father has, of course, neglected to take any action. As I am here, I might determine whether it should be patched or entirely replaced.”

  “When I asked you to marry me, I did not know that I was also engaging a steward.”

  “I am a very accomplished lady, after all.” She returned his smile. “I shall suggest to him what needs to be done as I am already here. He will be more pleased at being left to his library than irritated that his daughter overstepped her place. He finds me useful.”

  Darcy silently wondered whether Mr. Bennet’s complete contempt for their engagement had less to do with him and more to do with wishing to keep his cleverest and most helpful daughter at home. He walked around the vacant building, examining the structure, and conceded it would make a fine farmer’s home. Darcy shrugged off his greatcoat as he entered the small cottage. One step brought them into the sizable sitting room without any introductory lobby. It had only an uncomfortable-looking sofa and a sturdy table in the room along with a large fireplace. Darcy offered to go to the second floor to better consider the roof, and Elizabeth said she wished to see it for herself. She led the way to the narrow staircase and, upon climbing, entered the single room with a field bed and an empty wash stand. The curtains were gone from the bed’s canopy arch, as were the window coverings, but when properly furnished, it would be a bright and cheerful room.

  Elizabeth strode towards the window, and Darcy watched the dust particles float through the sunbeams that came in from the window and the trifling holes above him. His focus then shifted to Elizabeth, and the vision before him stole his breath. He swallowed thickly while she removed her spencer and tossed it aside, looking out the window and saying something about how hot it was. Then she turned around to look up and contemplate the roof. Darcy stared. With the morning sunlight all around her, Elizabeth’s pale gown was virtually transparent.

  Darcy could see nearly every curve and shadow, and his imagination had no trouble envisioning the few details still unseen. He abruptly sat on the bed with his back to her and tried to regulate his breathing. The thought that Elizabeth had not been handsome enough to tempt him to dance was unequivocally laughable amid the temptations she now presented. It would require but a slight effort on her part to connect his desires with his actions.

  “Fitzwilliam, did you hear me? I think the roof might be repaired after all. It is a charming little home.”

  Darcy was aware that he was nodding but still stared at the empty wall. He willed his mind to think about the responsibilities awaiting him in town—anything to distract him from Elizabeth’s pleasing figure and the way her curves would feel beneath his hands. Despite all they said during their walk, years of ingrained modesty and decorum made him adhere to proper behavior.

  Her hand gently touched his shoulder. “Are you well?”

  “I am perfectly well, I thank you!” He rose and kept his back to her. He was engrossed in suppressing his passionate desire for Elizabeth and could not spare her feelings. Two arms wrapped around his waist. He spun about in alarm and gently pushed Elizabeth from him by her wrists.

  “Elizabeth,” he pleaded as he noted the wounded look in her eyes, “you know not what you do to me!”

  A smile crossed her features. “Is your resolve to act like a gentleman
rapidly failing?”

  Darcy nodded.

  “Then I ought to assist you in removing what remains of your determination.” Darcy looked on her in wonder as she unfastened the buttons of his waistcoat and pushed the garment off his shoulders. The gravity of their situation was plain; they were alone in the most compromising position imaginable. Elizabeth’s sparkling eyes, playful smile, and occupied hands led Darcy to believe she was perfectly happy.

  “I know I told you to come to me any time you wish,” he breathed, “but should we not wait until you are my wife?”

  Elizabeth pulled her hands away from his neck where she had succeeded in untying the knot of his cravat. “I do comprehend the distinction between being one’s intended and being one’s wife, but I cannot help feeling more like the latter. We may not have said the vows in the church, but in my mind and in my heart, there is nothing to prevent us from being together. I was only afraid to be alone with you because I did not want to deny you any part of myself and feared you would question my virtue.”

  Darcy was slow to realize what she was offering him and unable to speak. It was unnatural for him to have so little control over himself, but he was overcome by love and desire. Elizabeth Bennet was the one person in the world who could exercise such command over him. As he attempted to connect the appropriate words to the swirl of emotions coursing through him, he was aware of her apologies over the thrum of his own pulse pounding in his ears.

  “I did not intend to coax you into compromising your values. I only wanted you to understand all I feel for you. Let us return.” She bent to pick up his waistcoat and held it out to him. Her movement startled Darcy out of his contemplation. He took the garment from her hands and threw it aside, and encircled her in his arms. He then pulled back and held her upturned face in his hands.

  “What I want most in this world—what I need most—is to be your husband. You think too little of your power over me. In my heart, you are already my wife, and to hear you say that you feel the same for me…” Darcy lacked the words to express all he felt. “Elizabeth, I want to make you mine in every possible way,” he said roughly.

  They found themselves locked in an ardent embrace, and when the need for air parted them, her fine, dark eyes looked lustily back at him. Her kisses were just as demanding, and her hands roamed his hair and then down to his chest. Darcy groaned at the pleasure of having her in his arms, and he released her mouth only to turn his attentions to the line of her jaw and then down her throat. He ran his fingers through her dark hair, carelessly tossing away any pins that were in his way.

  Elizabeth pulled his shirt from his trousers; then she slid her fingers under the white linen to trace her fingertips up and across his chest. He quickly pulled the garment over his head and flung it aside then returned his lips to her neck. He was startled when she pulled away, but realized she was pausing to look at him. Darcy found her gentle scrutiny exciting; she laid her hands flat against his chest, intently looking him up and down, and Darcy was certain she could see the pounding of his heart. Elizabeth leant into him to put her lips to the base of his neck and began to nip and suck at his skin. He tilted his head back, allowing her full liberty to touch him anywhere she pleased. He groaned aloud as she pressed her body fully against him, making him writhe with desire, and he tightened his hold on her hips.

  Darcy moved his hands to the back of her gown and, with difficulty, released the ties until he could pull it off her shoulders. Elizabeth pulled her arms out of the sleeves and Darcy swiftly tugged it down her hips and let it fall to the floor. His lips now had full access to the skin above the bodice of her chemise, and he made it his purpose to taste every inch of her. The feel of her warm breath on his neck was exhilarating, and he felt Elizabeth shiver as his hands roamed the length of her back from her shoulders to her waist.

  She hungrily pulled his lips back to hers when his hand caressed the soft firmness of her breasts through the thin linen fabric, the centers hard against his palm. Elizabeth moaned against his mouth and pushed her chest into his hands. Her fingertips scraped against his scalp as she pulled her mouth away from Darcy’s lips and trailed kisses across his jaw. He shuddered when her teeth gently followed the outside of his ear, and he gave a growl of pleasure when her tongue darted into his ear.

  “Elizabeth,” he breathed into her hair, “how do you know so well how to please me?”

  She withdrew to look into his eyes. “I could not say,” she said shyly. “I only touch you the way I want you to touch me.”

  The culmination of all his daydreams and the reality of Elizabeth’s responsiveness made coherent thought nearly impossible. “I want to see you,” he gasped, “all of you.”

  Elizabeth looked disbelieving at his near demand but perched herself on the edge of the bed. She bent at the waist and untied the laces on one small boot and slipped it off her foot. She lifted the hem of her chemise to tug at the small ribbon holding her stockings at her knee. Darcy stood at rapt attention as Elizabeth’s shapely leg came into view. Elizabeth peeled off one stocking but stopped and looked at him.

  “You do not intend to watch me undress, do you?”

  Darcy’s mind screamed yes, but from the tone of her voice, he knew this was not what Elizabeth wanted. Drawing on his desire to please the only woman he had known to be worthy of being pleased, he mutely shook his head and turned away. He picked Elizabeth’s gown from the floor. He tossed it and her spencer over the washstand. When he had pried off his own boots and stockings, he dared to look towards his betrothed.

  She stood by the bed, holding her chemise crumpled in her hands in front of her chest. Darcy could only see the outline of one breast, part of her bare stomach and hips, and most of her legs from below her thighs. He could not help but grin and raised an expectant eyebrow. An anxious smile tugged at her lips as she dropped the fabric to the floor. When Elizabeth was able to meet his eyes, he marveled at her in complete delight.

  Darcy crossed the distance between them, but stopped before he got within arm’s reach. “You are perfect.” His eyes raked up and down her body, and his breath hitched.

  “You are very welcome to do more than look at me.”

  Darcy laughed aloud at her playful manner that he loved so. His amusement was short-lived as Elizabeth let her hands trail across his chest and then carefully moved further down. Darcy’s laugh dissolved into a moan before he quickly brought his lips to hers.

  Some part of his mind was grateful that her touch was gentle because he was unsure how much restraint he could show. Quickly, he gathered her into his arms and laid her on the bed, then tore off his trousers, nearly ripping the buttons in the process. Darcy heard her amused laugh as he kicked them away.

  “I suppose, given your enthusiasm, that you must laugh at me for being so worried you would despise me for what happened at the assembly.”

  He noticed her eyes had drifted lower as he joined her on the bed, and he gave her a smile. “I can assure you, laughing at you is not at all what I have in mind.”

  Darcy caught her hand and brought it to his lips, slowly kissing every fingertip and sucking on her wrist before she pulled it away to touch him again. He tenderly ran his hands over her body, eager to touch every part of her that had been cruelly hidden from view. He heard her soft gasp when he lowered his head and brought a taut nipple into his mouth.

  Their curiosity and desire to please each other quickly won out over uncertainty, and when he eventually moved his hand from her breasts to where her legs parted, the way she sighed and whispered his name made a desire blaze in him to show her all the enjoyment he could give her. Soon her hand fell away from him, and she clenched the fabric beneath her. While her hips began a rhythm of their own against his hand, she roughly pulled him closer to kiss. Darcy was just as desperate to taste her lips again and kissed her fiercely as he felt his own passion rising. He could sense her begin
ning to tremble, but nothing prepared him for the excitement he felt when she suddenly pulled away from his mouth and arched her back with a gasp. None of his lustful imaginings ever approached the delight he derived from hearing high-pitched cries from her swollen, parted lips.

  She was still breathing fast when she opened her eyes, gave him a satisfied smile, and pulled him to lie atop her. Darcy chuckled softly as he trailed kisses over her jaw and down her neck. When Elizabeth trailed her foot along his calf and hooked a leg around his waist, he shuddered with a desire he could no longer repress.

  “Are you cer—”

  “Yes!” Her eyes showed a burning eagerness for him. “If you are,” she added quietly.

  He felt too much to speak but nodded and brushed her lips with his.

  The feel of her fingernails scraping his shoulders, the sound of her moans in his ear, the very sight of her moving beneath him was more intense than he had ever imagined. Later, Darcy was transported to another place when Elizabeth called out his name, and he felt waves of pleasure coursing through his body.

  His eyes opened to see Elizabeth looking back at him with love and delight.

  Darcy kissed her fiercely on the lips, his throat nearly choking with emotion. “I love you, dearest, loveliest Elizabeth.”

  Darcy had never known such intimacy. Elizabeth Bennet had given herself to him fully, and they were united in a powerful way that he had never known was possible. And never in all his twenty-eight years did he imagine that such love and happiness would ever be his.

  Chapter 15

  Elizabeth awoke feeling short of breath as though her stays were laced too tight. She blinked in the bright sunlight and realized it could not be her stays because she was not wearing them; she wore nothing at all. The weight over her was Fitzwilliam’s arm. He had rolled onto his side in his sleep and had wrapped her in his embrace. She smiled widely.