Elizabeth Bennet's Excellent Adventure: A Pride and Prejudice Vagary
Page 22
Pressed closely to him, Darcy felt her heart beat with his. His mouth returned to hers for only that gesture erased a remnant of Darcy’s fierce need for her. For a moment, he thought to savor Elizabeth’s acquiescence, but her lips parted, and his wife yielded to the rising heat between them.
Darcy swept Elizabeth into his arms to carry her to the bed. Unable not to touch her, he followed her down. Darcy’s world melded into a swirling mix of past, present, and future. For more months than he cared to consider, he desired Elizabeth beneath him.
“I love you,” he murmured, his lips skimming her skin.
“And I love you,” she whispered.
What ensued played out before Darcy’s eyes, mixed with the image of the woman, who haunted all his dreams, crossing the field. Despite reliving every second of their first coming together, his conscious mind registered when his wife stopped to turn in playful circles, her arms spread wide.
Darcy eased his desire for Elizabeth to begin his descent to the field below. As he crossed the rock ledge, he watched Elizabeth remove her bonnet to toss it in the air in pure abandon. Setting his steps along the path, Darcy recognized how often his wife likely experienced such pleasure. Miss Bingley’s remark of Elizabeth’s petticoat being six inches in mud brought a smile to Darcy’s lips as he approached.
“There is my darling girl,” he called as Elizabeth stumbled to a halt.
She glanced up to Darcy and smiled.
“You searched for me, Sir?” Elizabeth teased.
“Always,” Darcy said as he swept her into his arms. “Searched until I found the one.”
He kissed her gently.
“I was just considering our makeshift waltz on our wedding night. Would you care to attempt it again with a bit more room? A field of flowers to soften our steps?”
“We have a ballroom at Pemberley House,” she taunted as she set her hand upon Darcy’s shoulder.
He chuckled easily.
“That room is for sword lessons and a bit of wrestling.”
Elizabeth kissed his chin line.
“Heaven forbid if we decide to host a ball at Pemberley. We will scandalize our guests,” she murmured.
“I care not.”
Darcy stroked her back and hips before he set their steps in motion, sweeping Elizabeth through the twists of yellow, blue, red, and purple. Her laughter filled the air with a tinkling sound to which Darcy accepted his addiction.
“You are scandalous, Mr. Darcy,” she chastised as he reached to loosen the pins holding her hair in a loose chignon.
“I am the Master of Pemberley. If I wish to dance with my wife among the wildflowers, it is no one’s concern, but mine.”
Elizabeth tightened her grip upon Darcy’s shoulder, sliding her hand to the back of his neck.
“What if the Mistress of Pemberley wishes to kiss the Master while standing in said field?”
A catch in Elizabeth’s breath told Darcy his wife’s heat climbed as quickly as his.
“Your wish is my command,” he murmured as he lowered his head.
He kissed her with all the hopes he held those long months they were apart, and Elizabeth responded with a like yearning. The fact his wife expressed her open affection did Darcy well.
Without thinking, Darcy released her to sweep off his long coat, the one he regularly wore when he examined the fields and structures of the estate. He bent to spread it upon the ground before lifting Elizabeth to his arms to place his wife upon the coat.
Kneeling beside her, Darcy looked upon her seductive appeal. Elizabeth’s hair rested in rolling waves about her shoulders, and she closed her eyes to drink in the sweetness of an early autumn day. The sleeves of her gown slipped from her shoulders, and Darcy’s eyes drank his fill of the creamy expanse of skin.
He stretched out beside her, holding Elizabeth’s hand to enjoy the moment.
“I who have everything,” she whispered, and Darcy recognized the source of the words she recited as being from his letter, “still have nothing of value if you are not at my side to share my wealth. You rejected my adoration, proving me unworthy of tempting you with either the luxury of my fortune or the deep affection with which I hold you.”
“That was long ago, Elizabeth.”
“But it was the moment I knew how foolish I acted,” she countered.
His wife rolled to her side to snuggle against Darcy’s arm.
“I realized how lost I would feel if I never were to encounter you again and the misery I would know when watching you offer your attentions to another. A heart that breaks cannot mend unless it joins to another. I cursed myself for never saying the words that I wished you to know. I so feared that your affection would fade away.”
Her hip caressed Darcy’s thigh, and they remained as such in silence for several elongated moments, each lost in his recollections.
Life would never be perfect, but Elizabeth’s presence in his life made Darcy a finer man; he felt it so with his entire being. His wife softened Darcy’s edges, made him wish to achieve all he could for her and their future family, and Darcy loved Elizabeth with all his heart.
“You are lost in your thoughts again,” Elizabeth teased. “You do that often, Mr. Darcy.”
Darcy rolled upon his side to face her.
“My thoughts are always of you.”
“Why ever for?”
Elizabeth placed her hand over Darcy’s heart, and he cupped it to press her palm to his chest.
“Because in both countenance and soul, you are the most beautiful woman of my acquaintance.”
“Your wife and someday the mother of your children,” she said on a tremble.
Darcy leaned over her to roll Elizabeth to her back as he covered her mouth with a kiss of promise of infinite love. A warmth awakened in Darcy’s chest as his wife wrapped her fingers about his nape to hold him to her. Darcy pronounced a silent prayer of thanksgiving as Elizabeth’s sweet breath whispered his name. Later, he would claim the joyful sound of his children’s laughter filling the halls of Pemberley the sweetest sound he would ever know, but until then, Darcy found comfort in his wife’s gasp of “William, we cannot. Not here,” which Darcy skillfully proved her in error.
~ Finis ~
Other Novels by Regina Jeffers
Jane Austen-Inspired Novels:
Darcy’s Passions: Pride and Prejudice Retold Through His Eyes
Darcy’s Temptation: A Pride and Prejudice Sequel
Captain Wentworth’s Persuasion: Jane Austen’s Classic Retold Through His Eyes
Vampire Darcy’s Desire: A Pride and Prejudice Paranormal Adventure
The Phantom of Pemberley: A Pride and Prejudice Mystery
Christmas at Pemberley: A Pride and Prejudice Holiday Sequel
The Disappearance of Georgiana Darcy: A Pride and Prejudice Mystery
The Mysterious Death of Mr. Darcy: A Pride and Prejudice Mystery
“The Pemberley Ball” (a short story in The Road to Pemberley anthology)
Honor and Hope: A Contemporary Pride and Prejudice
Mr. Darcy’s Fault: A Pride and Prejudice Vagary
Elizabeth Bennet’s Deception: A Pride and Prejudice Vagary
The Prosecution of Mr. Darcy’s Cousin: A Pride and Prejudice Mystery
Regency and Contemporary Romances:
The Scandal of Lady Eleanor: Book 1 of the Realm Series (aka A Touch of Scandal)
A Touch of Velvet: Book 2 of the Realm Series
A Touch of Cashémere: Book 3 of the Realm Series
A Touch of Grace: Book 4 of the Realm Series
A Touch of Mercy: Book 5 of the Realm Series
A Touch of Love: Book 6 of the Realm Series
A Touch of Honor: Book 7 of the Realm Series
A Touch of Emerald: The Conclusion of the Realm Series
His American Heartsong: A Companion Novel to the Realm Series
His Irish Eve
The First Wives’ Club: Book 1 of the First Wives’ Trilogy
Coming Soon…
Angel Comes to the Devil’s Keep
The Earl Finds His Comfort
“One Minute Past Christmas”
Mr. Darcy’s Bargain: A Pride and Prejudice Vagary
Meet the Author
Writing passionately comes easily to Regina Jeffers. A master teacher, for thirty-nine years, she passionately taught thousands of students English in the public schools of West Virginia, Ohio, and North Carolina. Yet, “teacher” does not define her as a person. Ask any of her students or her family, and they will tell you Regina is passionate about so many things: her son, her grandchildren, truth, children in need, our country’s veterans, responsibility, the value of a good education, words, music, dance, the theatre, pro football, classic movies, the BBC, track and field, books, books, and more books. Holding multiple degrees, Jeffers often serves as a Language Arts or Media Literacy consultant to school districts and has served on several state and national educational commissions.
Regina's writing career began when a former student challenged her to do what she so “righteously” told her class should be accomplished in writing. On a whim, she self-published her first book Darcy’s Passions. “I never thought anything would happen with it. Then one day, a publishing company contacted me. They watched the sales of the book on Amazon, and they offered to print it.”
Since that time, Jeffers continues to write. “Writing is just my latest release of the creative side of my brain. I taught theatre, even participated in professional and community-based productions when I was younger. I trained dance teams, flag lines, majorettes, and field commanders. My dancers were both state and national champions. I simply require time each day to let the possibilities flow. When I write, I write as I used to choreograph routines for my dance teams; I write the scenes in my head as if they are a movie. Usually, it plays there for several days being tweaked and rewritten, but, eventually, I put it to paper. From that point, things do not change much because I completed several mental rewrites.”
Every Woman Dreams https://reginajeffers.wordpress.com
Website www.rjeffers.com
Austen Authors http://austenauthors.net
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Excerpt from Elizabeth Bennet’s Deception: A Pride and Prejudice Vagary
Chapter One
Darcy froze in his steps.
“It could not be,” he whispered to his foolish heart. He returned to Pemberley a day early to make the final arrangements for the surprise he meant for his sister. He left Georgiana in the care of his friend, Charles Bingley, and Bingley’s sisters. Darcy experienced a twinge of guilt at his expecting Georgiana to contend with Caroline Bingley and Louisa Hurst, but Miss Bingley’s effusions sorely wore Darcy’s patience away, and so he made his excuses.
Upon arriving at his family’s home, he cut across Pemberley’s parkland to come forward from the road, which led behind it to the stables. Upon his approach, Darcy noted the unmarked carriage before the estate. Recognizing the possibility of visitors in the common rooms, he remained in the shadows, meaning to enter the private quarters through the back entrance; yet, the appearance of a young woman upon the rise leading to the river brought Darcy to a stumbling halt. From a distance, the woman had the look of Elizabeth Bennet, but he did not approach. Darcy acted the fool previously and refused to be found wanting again.
Perhaps a month after his disastrous proposal to Miss Elizabeth at Hunsford Cottage, Darcy spotted a young lady entering Hatchard’s Books, and without thinking, he followed her.
“Miss Elizabeth,” Darcy said as he came up behind her, but when the woman spun around to greet him, the lady was not the woman whose being haunted Darcy’s thoughts for almost a year.
The girl’s forehead furrowed in confusion.
“Pardon me, Sir. Do we hold an acquaintance?”
Darcy bowed stiffly.
“It is I, miss, who begs your pardon. From behind, I thought you a long-standing acquaintance.” He stepped back to widen the distance between them. “I apologize for the inconvenience.”
The girl’s frown line deepened.
“Yet, you called me by my Christian name.”
The tone of the girl’s voice spoke of her suspicions.
Darcy swallowed the blush of embarrassment rushing to his cheeks.
“If you are also an Elizabeth, it is purely a coincidence,” he insisted.
“I am.”
Darcy rushed his apologies when he spied a matron marching to the young woman’s rescue.
“Then I am doubly apologetic. My actions placed you in an awkward position. Please forgive me.”
He held enough experience with Society mamas to know when to make a speedy exit.
During his return to Darcy House, Darcy silently cursed his inanity for stumbling into what was a most humiliating situation. Later, in his study, he admitted to the empty room, if not to himself, that he missed looking upon Elizabeth Bennet’s animated countenance.
“If it were she,” Darcy warned his conscience, “Miss Elizabeth would have, in all probability, presented me the direct cut. The lady spoke quite elegantly upon her disdain, and you are imprudent to think your letter would change Miss Elizabeth’s mind. Accept the fact the woman is not for you.”
And so when Darcy noted another lady possessing Elizabeth’s likeness upon the streets in the warehouse district of Cheapside a fortnight later, he turned away with the knowledge that as a gentleman’s daughter, Miss Elizabeth would not be found in Cheapside.
He strove to convince himself that he would soon replace Elizabeth Bennet’s charms with that of another.
Belatedly, realizing he studied the woman standing upon the rise longer than was proper, Darcy slipped through an open patio door to escape the vision of Elizabeth Bennet at Pemberley, which so often followed him about. It was deuced frustrating to look for the woman wherever his steps took him.
“Leave it be,” Darcy chastised as he crossed the drawing room only to be brought up short a second time by the appearance of his housekeeper.
Mrs. Reynolds caught at her chest in evident surprise.
“Mr. Darcy,” she gasped. “I did not realize you returned, Sir.”
Darcy caught her elbow to steady the stance of his long-time servant. Mrs. Reynolds came to Pemberley when he was but three. She, Mr. Nathan, his butler, and Mr. Sheffield, his valet, all knew the Darcy family’s employ for over twenty years.
“I noted visitors, and as I was not dressed properly, I thought to avoid the necessary greetings,” he explained.
“I just this minute turned them over to the gardener,” Mrs. Reynolds assured.
Darcy swallowed the question rushing to his lips.
“Very well. Then I am free to seek the privacy of my quarters.”
“Yes, Sir.” Mrs. Reynolds glanced toward the entrance hall. “Should I ask a footman to bring up bath water, Sir?”
Darcy nodded his agreement. Again, he fought the urge to ask of the estate’s visitors, but Darcy chose not to punish his pride with false hopes.
“Has Miss Darcy’s gift arrived?”
“Yes, Sir. As you instructed I placed the instrument in Miss Darcy’s sitting room. It fits perfectly. Miss Georgiana will know such joy.”
He smiled with the woman’s kindness.
“My sister deserves a bit of happiness. After my ablutions, I mean to view the arrangement personally.”
“Very good, Sir.” Mrs. Reynolds started away to do his bidding. Yet, despite his best efforts, Darcy called out to her.
“Yes, Master William. Is there something more?”
Darcy’s eyes searched the staircase where he often imagined Elizabeth Bennet standing. Such yearning swelled his chest that he experienced difficulty breathing. It is best not to know, he cautioned his wayward thoughts.
“Would you tell the footman I will require his assistance in dressing. Mr. Sh
effield and my coach will arrive later this evening.”
“Certainly, Sir.”
“And you and I should speak before Mr. Bingley’s family arrives. Miss Bingley did not enjoy the vista from her guest room when last the Bingleys were here.”
A scowl of disapproval crossed his housekeeper’s features. Darcy knew many of his servants prayed he would not take up with Caroline Bingley. He expected if he were to act so foolish, he would receive a large number of resignations from his staff.
“Perhaps before supper, Sir,” Mrs. Reynolds said stiffly.
Darcy nodded his approval, and the lady strode away; yet, he whispered to her retreating form.
“Have no fear. Only one woman knows my approval as the Mistress of Pemberley.” Darcy chuckled in irony. “And it remains unfortunate that even Pemberley’s grandeur could not entice the lady to overlook its master’s shortcomings.”
* * *
Mr. Darcy’s housekeeper consigned Elizabeth and her aunt and uncle over to the gardener, who met them at the hall door. As they followed the man toward the river, Elizabeth turned to look upon the gentleman’s home. For very selfish reasons, she opposed her aunt’s suggestion of the tour of Mr. Darcy’s estate, but Elizabeth was glad she came. In her future daydreams, she would picture him on the grand staircase.
If Elizabeth, when Mr. Darcy gave her the letter he wrote in clarification of his actions, did not expect it to contain a renewal of his offers, she formed no expectation at all of its contents. But such as they were, it might well be supposed how eagerly she went through them and what a contrariety of emotions they excited. No one observing her progress could give voice to her feelings. With amazement did she first understand that Mr. Darcy believed any apology to be in his power; and she steadfastly denied that he could possess an explanation, which a just sense of shame would not conceal.