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Marrying Miss Bennet- Books 1-4

Page 3

by Jane Hunter


  If only he could speak to her alone.

  As dessert was being cleared away, Georgiana took the lead once again. “Mr. Gardiner, Mrs. Gardiner, will you adjourn with me to the drawing room? William has been kind enough to gift me with a new pianoforte, and can think of no better occasion to examine his purchase in detail.”

  Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner agreed readily, and Elizabeth rose to follow them. Darcy was not sure if he could bear sitting for any longer. He looked out the dining room window into the darkness and set his glass of wine down upon the table.

  “William, are you coming?” Georgiana asked.

  Darcy shook his head. “In a moment, I need some fresh air.”

  “Oh, yes, of course. Join us in the drawing room when you are able,” she said with a smile.

  Georgiana linked her arm with Elizabeth Bennet’s and led her towards the drawing room. Darcy could hear them talking quietly, and he felt his heart lighten just a little to see them smiling and laughing together. He turned away from the party and walked through the foyer and out the front door.

  Darcy stood on the front steps of Pemberley and took a deep breath and looked up at the stars that glittered overhead.

  He needed to talk to Elizabeth Bennet, he could only hope that Georgiana was working on his behalf. The night was warm and he smiled as the summer wind caressed his cheeks and ruffled his hair. He walked towards the gardens, knowing precisely where he needed to go to clear his mind.

  * * *

  The scent of lilacs was heady and cloying, and Darcy felt himself relaxing. He sat on the marble bench and breathed deeply, trying to clear his mind.

  “Mr. Darcy?”

  Darcy’s spine stiffened immediately at the sound of Elizabeth Bennet’s voice. What was she doing out here in the garden? The warm light from the house spilled gently over the flowers and bushes, and the silvery gaze of the moon had only just begun to paint the blossoms on the ancient lilac bush that crept along the wall behind him.

  “Mr. Darcy, is that you? Georgiana said I would find you here...”

  Darcy smiled gently and rose from his seat. “Miss Bennet, you have found me as she said. I come here often to think...”

  His mind raced, had Georgiana sent her out here for a reason?

  “I have been sent to fetch you... Georgiana wants to play cards and we are in need of a fifth player,” Elizabeth said with a smile.

  “Is no one else with you?” he asked, hoping that she was not alone and he would not be forced to unburden himself.

  “No, she assured me that I would not be gone long... shall I tell everyone that you are not inclined to play cards?”

  “Indeed, I am very willing to play, however—“

  “Are you well, Mr. Darcy?” Elizabeth asked suddenly. “You were very quiet at supper... and Georgiana remarked upon your mood when we were talking together...”

  “Did she indeed,” he said wryly. He would have to speak to his sister about her observations tomorrow. There was no escaping it, he would have to speak his mind. “Miss Bennet, will you sit with me for just a moment?”

  Elizabeth looked at him skeptically, checking over her shoulder for something, as though she were afraid that they would be disturbed... Or was she hoping for it?

  “Yes, I suppose,” she said. Darcy heart leapt in his chest as Elizabeth Bennet sank to the marble bench and arranged her gown prettily.

  “Miss Bennet, I confess that I must tell you something. And that I have been reluctant to admit such things even to myself. But I find that I am plagued by these thoughts, and if I do not reveal them, I fear that I will never be rid of them.”

  Elizabeth blinked at him, thinking for a moment, and then she smiled. “Mr. Darcy, the last time I allowed myself to listen to the unburdening of your heart, you insulted me in the worst possible way. If you can tell me that I will leave this conversation without being insulted, then I will permit you to speak.”

  Her eyes sparkled in the moonlight and Darcy felt something inside him twist tightly. Was she mocking him? He chose to smile instead. He took a deep breath, and the words came out in a rush.

  “I find you most interesting, Miss Elizabeth Bennet. You are charming, and do not suffer fools. In truth, you are unlike any other young lady I have ever met.”

  “Have you become acquainted with a great many young ladies, Mr. Darcy?”

  “Enough to know that you are exceptional.”

  Elizabeth opened her mouth to object, but Darcy seated himself upon the bench beside her before she could protest. The lilac bush that twined along the wall behind them was heavy with blossoms. Their perfume was thick and heavy in his nostrils and it was making his head swim.

  Before she could take another breath, Darcy leaned forward and placed his mouth against hers. He touched her cheek lightly, just with his fingertips, and he felt her freeze.

  The feeling of his lips upon hers was intoxicating, much like the smell of the lilacs. Her eyes were closed and he watched her carefully, but he could see nothing in his face that could make him believe that she was anything but willing.

  Darcy’s mouth moved against hers and he pressed closer, one hand touching her waist tentatively and then more firmly when she did not pull away.

  He knew that she was fighting against everything she had been taught. She knew that she should turn her face away, that she should try to escape from his grasp, but as his chest pressed against hers, she made no move to stop him. His hand was cool upon her hot cheek, his other tight upon her waist, tracing the line of the corset she wore beneath her gown.

  He had spent so much time avoiding her, so much time avoiding his feelings, so much time being prideful and aloof. If she could only believe that everything he said was true. That she had underestimated him, and that he deserved a chance to show her just how much he ardently admired and loved her.

  Darcy pulled his lips away from hers, allowing her to take a gasping breath. His thumb swept over her cheek, staring deeply into her eyes. Elizabeth licked her lips quickly, obviously nervous under his scrutiny.

  “Mr. Darcy, I...”

  “I must confess something... Elizabeth.” He rested his forehead against hers, gently, his eyes implored her not to pull away, but she was captured... trapped in the intensity of his dark gaze. Elizabeth closed her eyes, and he could see that she was trying to collect her thoughts.

  “Yes, Mr. Darcy?”

  He paused for just a moment, trying to organize his emotions into phrases, and then he spoke, “your dislike for me, your anger... I can feel it. I must apologize most sincerely for any offense I have given you.”

  He heard Elizabeth’s breath catch briefly, and he took that as permission to kiss her again, and he did, pressing his lips to hers, this time with more passion.

  He held her face in both hands, handling her like fine, delicate porcelain. He tilted her face up with a slight pressure on her chin before smoothing one hand down her neck, her shoulder, down the side of her breast, before bringing it to rest on her waist. Enough to make her breathless. Darcy pulled her closer, his kiss becoming more insistent as she gasped against his lips. Taking the opportunity, his tongue licked gently at her upper lip before sweeping into her mouth.

  As though she could hold herself back no longer, Elizabeth reached up and spread her fingers over his shoulders, clinging to him. He was on fire for this woman, there was no way to deny it.

  Darcy finally dragged his lips away from Elizabeth’s, leaving her gasping and weak as he kissed down her jaw to nibble and suck at the sensitive skin of her neck. Elizabeth closed her eyes and tried not to moan.

  As his lips reached her collarbone, Darcy moved the hand that rested on her waist down, tracing the edge of her corset down her belly and paused.

  Darcy’s mouth was hot upon her neck, his breath fast and hard against her heated flesh. “Elizabeth,” he groaned, his free hand working at the ribbons that held the neckline of her gown closed.

  Elizabeth moaned, reaching up to stop his finger
s... or assist him... The thin fabric of her gown fall away from her shoulders to expose her breasts and Darcy groaned as her pale flesh was revealed and he dipped his head to claim his prize.

  Elizabeth gasped in surprise as Darcy sucked one tight pink nipple into his mouth and suckled gently at it. The hand that cupped her secret heat had not moved, and Darcy could feel her fighting the urge to move her hips and force him to grip her tighter.

  Elizabeth groaned as Darcy nipped at the tender flesh of her breast, teasing her to another dizzying high.

  All at once, Elizabeth gasped for another reason.

  “Miss Bennet! Elizabeth!”

  Georgiana.

  Darcy groaned regretfully and released Elizabeth’s breast and removed his hand from between her legs. Elizabeth stifled a disappointed moan as she fumbled with the ribbons at the shoulder of her dress.

  Darcy’s eyes burned into hers for just a moment before he kissed her again, heated and brief before he rose from the bench and walked a few steps into the dark.

  Elizabeth appeared confused and flustered... and Darcy worried that they would be discovered. If anyone saw them, she would be ruined. If a servant saw anything, word would spread... it did not bear thinking about.

  “Elizabeth! Did you find my brother?” Georgiana’s voice echoed in the dark garden once more. “Come now, we are growing bored. Mr. Gardiner is threatening to sit at the pianoforte!”

  Darcy chuckled and looked back to his companion. Elizabeth had re-tied the ribbons of her gown and was standing by the lilac bush with her nose buried in the sweet blooms.

  “My great-grandmother planted the first lilacs at Pemberley,” he said quietly.

  “They are beautiful. They remind me of something I cannot quiet recall...”

  “Is it a good memory?”

  Elizabeth smiled and rubbed her thumb over the flowers. “Yes. It is.”

  Darcy felt something hot swirl in his stomach and he had to restrain himself from pulling the woman standing across from him into his arms. She was everything he had ever wanted. He knew that now.

  “Elizabeth! This is all very tiresome. I am coming to find you!”

  Darcy looked back towards the house and the entrance to the gardens. “Georgiana is coming to fetch you... you must go ahead of me,” he said quickly.

  Elizabeth smiled. “Yes, of course.”

  It was impossible to know what she was thinking, but Darcy felt sure that Elizabeth Bennet’s mind, and possibly her heart, had been changed towards him. A good sign, to be sure. But now this secret hung between them. A secret that could only be legitimized by a proposal... but as she walked out of the garden towards the house, Darcy realized that she had not admitted that she possessed the same feelings.

  How could he rectify this... what could he do to convince her of the sincerity of his confessions?

  It was a question that plagued him for the remainder of the night... and would continue to keep him awake late into the night for many weeks to come.

  * * *

  ...To be continued

  Elizabeth’s Honor

  Elizabeth knew that her cheeks were flushed when she took Georgiana’s arm in the darkness, but she hoped that it could be explained away by the briskness of their walk back to the house. Georgiana kept up a bright stream of chatter as their shoes crunched over the gravel of the courtyard and Elizabeth did everything in her power to keep up with the conversation.

  Her thoughts, however, swirled around everything Mr. Darcy had said to her in the garden. The heady scent of the lilacs and the depth and sincerity of his words had swayed her opinion of him so entirely that she was not sure how she could ever have been angry with him. Yes, his proposal at Hunsford had been inexcusable, but his apology, and the manner in which it had been delivered had made her waver.

  She did feel something for him, she knew it now. Perhaps she had always known it, but now she was sure. For too long she had been fighting against her own emotions—shoving them aside to protect her wounded pride. But perhaps Mr. Darcy had been doing the very same thing... she was too confused, to flustered, and the evening was not yet over. She would have to pretend that nothing had happened between herself and Mr. Darcy until her aunt proclaimed that she was overwrought and that it was time for them to depart.

  Perhaps she would be able to deflect her own emotions until she was alone in her room at the Lambton Inn. It was a faint hope, but one that she clung to desperately.

  As she had hoped, the time had passed quickly, but she had to endure the weight of Mr. Darcy’s gaze throughout the remainder of the evening, and forced herself not to return his stares. It was enough to know that he desired her... and that his apology was sincere; but she could not shake the knowledge that he wanted more of her than for her to accept his apology with words alone. The thought excited and terrified her at the same time, but she could not decide which emotion was the dominant.

  Before their carriage departed Pemberley, Elizabeth and Georgiana had exchanged a heartfelt embrace with the promise to see each other again at the nearest opportunity. Georgiana was not much younger than her, and Elizabeth saw her own sisters in the young woman who stood before her. Georgiana was, no doubt, a lonely girl, and Elizabeth felt an unexpected kinship with her and a desire to see her happy. “I am so grateful to have met you, Georgiana,” she said sincerely.

  “And I you,” Georgiana cried. “I have begged William to introduce us since the moment he mentioned you. He was still in Hertfordshire at the time, and I feel no shame in telling you that the wait was almost unbearable.”

  Elizabeth did her best not to react to those words, but she was shocked to hear that Mr. Darcy had gone so far as to mention her to his sister so soon after their first fateful meeting.

  Mr. Darcy had been stiffly polite at their departure, but Elizabeth had noted the way his dark eyes had held hers, and the lingering way his fingers had brushed against hers almost accidentally her escorted them to the waiting carriage.

  As the carriage pulled away, Mrs. Gardiner’s happy sigh had filled the carriage. “A lovely supper, do you not agree?”

  “Indeed, indeed,” Mr. Gardiner said, patting his belly. “Excellent meal, excellent company... and I must say, Miss Darcy is one of the most accomplished young ladies I have had the pleasure to make acquaintance with these past few years.”

  “She is indeed talented,” Elizabeth said, watching as her aunt’s eyes closed sleepily.

  “Indeed. A wonderful evening, wonderful,” Mr. Gardiner said, looking out the carriage window at the bright August moon. Elizabeth followed his gaze and tried to think of anything but the way she had felt when Mr. Darcy’s lips had touched hers, and the way her heart had fluttered when he had apologized for his behavior—for his rude words. She had believed it, and she had forgiven him... she might have forgiven him anything while they were standing under those lilacs.

  The journey back to the inn was a swift one, no doubt hastened in her own mind by the wine she had drunk at supper. Mr. Gardiner assisted his wife most gallantly, and they went up to their room with murmured well wishes for a peaceful sleep.

  Elizabeth took her time preparing for bed. She rang the bell for some washing water and took extra care in unpinning her hair and setting out her nightgown while she waited for the maid to return with the bowl of steaming water.

  Closing the door carefully, Elizabeth undressed and set to washing herself, focusing more on wiping away not just the toil of the day, but also the emotions and the memories that her skin seemed to hold just below the surface. The feeling of Mr. Darcy’s fingers upon her flesh and the memory of the way she had gasped at the heat of his mouth... she wanted to forget all of it, wash it all away. But what if it could not be removed from her memory—or her heart?

  As impossible as it seemed, she wished that she had been given the chance to speak with him more, to truly know what emotions lay in his mind. Yes, she had forgiven him, but she wanted him to know why... and she also wanted to know why he ha
d felt compelled to give her such an explanation. The Mr. Darcy she had met in Hertfordshire would never have stooped to such words, and yet, this Mr. Darcy—this contrite and humble Mr. Darcy—this was the gentleman she wanted; the gentleman she loved.

  Elizabeth sighed and pulled her nightgown over her head. Such things were not meant for polite conversation, and so, she would have to keep them as they were—secrets for her alone. She slid beneath the coverlet and lifted her book with the intention of reading, but it was not long before her eyelids began to flutter and sleep overtook her.

  Her dreams were hot and flustered, all that had happened in the garden at Pemberley replayed in aching detail... every touch, every gasp, the press of his lips against hers. She could hear his voice saying her name, and hers gasping as his lips touched her skin.

  * * *

  Elizabeth was awoken by the feeling of warm hands sliding over her skin and hot breath upon her neck. Still half-asleep, she moaned and arched her back as a large hand cupped her breast and teased her nipple, plucking it to hardness as she gasped at the sensation of it. Another hand tugged at her nightgown, pulling it down over her shoulders so lips could be pressed hotly to her exposed flesh.

  She tried to turn, to escape, but the sensations had awakened something delicious inside her that begged to be indulged. Mr. Darcy’s arms, for it could only be him, held her firmly, and she could only gasp his name briefly before his lips captured hers. Her mouth opened under his, allowing his tongue to dart between and tease against hers. He slid his hand away from her breasts, tracing down her shuddering stomach to dip between her thighs.

  She gasped against his mouth as his fingers slid into her secret wetness, betraying her instant arousal for him. Elizabeth’s cheeks flamed as Mr. Darcy smiled against her mouth. As her dreams had predicted, he knew precisely how to touch her to drive her wild with a desire she had never known before. He turned her again in his arms, pulling her tightly against his chest, her buttocks pressing tightly against his crotch.

 

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