Truth about Mr. Darcy

by Susan Adriani

  After the meal, while the Bennets retired to the music room, Darcy summoned Georgiana to his study under the pretense of discussing a minor household matter. In actuality, he was anxious to hear her own account of the visit to the modiste. It infuriated him to no end to learn of such an affront to his beloved Elizabeth, and it had, in fact, taken all of Georgiana’s powers of persuasion to convince Darcy not to leave the house at that very moment for Mrs. Duval’s residence in order to personally reprimand her for the outrage that had been perpetrated at the hands of her staff. Instead, he paced in his study for a full quarter of an hour, attempting to regulate his temper before rejoining his guests. By the time Darcy entered the music room, Georgiana was immersed in her playing on the pianoforte, entertaining the Bennets with a lovely piece by Handel.

  Darcy searched the room for Elizabeth. He discovered her standing apart from her family at one of the large windows overlooking the street; her distress was obvious by the manner in which her hands twisted the material of her gown. Greatly affected, Darcy joined her. “You have been very quiet tonight, my love.”

  Elizabeth turned to him and gave him a half-hearted smile. “I am fine, Fitzwilliam. I am only a little tired. I was thinking of retiring soon. I am afraid I will not be suitable company tonight.”

  Darcy’s brow furrowed. “I was hoping to have a moment alone with you, Elizabeth. We have not yet had any time to ourselves today, and I find myself desirous of your presence.”

  Elizabeth lowered her eyes. “And I am very much in need of yours,” she murmured as she took his hand between both her own.

  Darcy glanced about the room. All her family appeared to be well entertained for the moment. “Will you come to me tonight?” he whispered as he moved a curl from her face. “I have some matters of business I must see to in my study. I will be there until very late. Please say you will come.”

  His eyes beseeched her to agree, and without so much as a second thought, Elizabeth nodded.

  It was just past one o’clock in the morning when Elizabeth finally joined Darcy in his study. She found him seated behind his mahogany desk, going over pages of documents. When his gaze lit on her, he laid them aside and smiled. She ran to him, and in the very next instant, Darcy pulled Elizabeth onto his lap and enveloped her in his arms, cradling her in his embrace. She sighed as some of the tension from her unpleasant day melted away.

  “Fitzwilliam,” she murmured as she circled her arms around his shoulders and buried her face in the fabric of his cravat. “I have missed you.” She could not help but inhale his distinct, masculine scent. He smelled wonderful, like sandalwood and black pepper. How she loved the smell of him and the feel of his comforting presence!

  “And I, you,” he murmured as he placed a lingering kiss upon the curve of her neck. “May I take your hair down?”

  She inclined her head, and Darcy removed the decorative pins from her dark locks. As he pulled out the last pin, Elizabeth’s hair fell like a rich veil to well below the middle of her back. His breath caught, and he buried his fingers deep within the silken depths of her curls.

  Elizabeth snuggled against him, breathing deeply as she enjoyed the feel of his fingers moving through her hair. She found it soothed her, just as it had when her maid would brush her hair many years before, when she was still but a girl. Before Elizabeth could stop herself, she almost shyly asked Darcy whether he would mind performing that same task for her now.

  He was pleasantly surprised by her request and most eager to comply. He hastened to retrieve a beautiful silver-plated brush he had only recently purchased, engraved with an elegant, flowing E.D., from a locked drawer in his desk. He took a seat closer to the fire and settled Elizabeth upon his lap, this time with her back to him, as he ran the brush through her curls with care.

  Elizabeth relaxed under his tender ministrations, and her gaze began to roam over the many objects in Darcy’s study. It occurred to her then that this was his inner sanctum, his refuge, much the same as her father’s small library was to him. She could not help but admire the understated elegance of her future husband’s good taste.

  “You have a wonderful home, Fitzwilliam. It is tasteful and refined while being comfortable, and not the least bit ostentatious. I know I am going to enjoy living here very much, but only because you and Georgiana will be here, as well, and I shall be able to awake every morning in your arms. Apart from the theatre and the opera, I confess London society holds very little allure for me. I believe I will need to seek refuge in your excellent library quite often, sir, preferably with you to keep me company.”

  Darcy placed a lingering kiss upon her hair and said, “Our library, Elizabeth. It is now your home, as well, and you can change anything you wish in order to make yourself more comfortable.”

  She shook her head. “I have no wish to change anything, and until we are happily married, I shall be perfectly content with being no more than a guest in your home.”

  Darcy placed the brush upon an end table and shifted so he could look deeply into Elizabeth’s eyes. He caressed the softness of her cheek, his voice tinged with emotion as he whispered, “In my heart, Elizabeth, you are already my wife. Surely, you know that?”

  Her breath caught in her throat as tears pricked the corners of her eyes. Cradling his face in her hands, she drew his mouth slowly toward her own, stopping just short of their lips touching. “Thank you, Fitzwilliam,” she whispered. “You can have no idea how very much I was in need of hearing you speak such words to me tonight.”

  Their lips met with a tenderness that soon threatened to overwhelm them both, and as Elizabeth felt her body begin to tremble from the strength of her emotions, Darcy lifted her in his arms and carried her toward the fire. He laid her with care upon the carpet, where he joined her after removing his waistcoat and his riding boots. Then he began to work the buttons on her gown free, his gaze never leaving her eyes, not even for a moment.

  Once Elizabeth was fully unclothed, her curls framing her face as she lay before him upon the carpet, Darcy took his time to tease her body with his lips, his tongue, and his hands, lingering along those areas of her flesh he knew to be most receptive to his caresses. Not until after Darcy heard her soft cries and felt her body begin to writhe under his touch did he dare permit himself to give any thought to his own ardor.

  Darcy traced her nipple with his tongue as he massaged the small, sensitive pearl between her thighs with his finger. She was slippery and wet, indicating her readiness just as much as the muffled sounds Elizabeth moaned against his lips. Darcy pulled his head back and stared at her, mesmerized, unable to tear his gaze from her beauty, longing to bring her over the edge and into the abyss of ultimate release. Suddenly, Elizabeth’s back began to arch, and her lovely body shuddered violently as he brought her to her completion. When she stilled, Darcy returned his mouth to hers as she assisted him with the buttons on his shirt and breeches.

  He entered her slowly and began to move with smooth, long strokes he knew would encourage Elizabeth’s desire to build again quickly. As he increased his rhythm and felt the delicious heat begin to supplant every other awareness, Elizabeth matched his frenzied movements with her own, drawing small grunts of satisfaction from Darcy every time they met.

  They pushed their passion for each other ever faster, ever deeper until, with one final thrust, they spiraled into a pulsating oblivion of insurmountable pleasure.

  They lay spent, languid and content in each other’s arms, their limbs entwined as they basked in the afterglow of their lovemaking. Elizabeth ran her fingertips over his bare chest as Darcy’s hand played with her hair. She gazed up at him and noticed a distant look in his eyes. “Fitzwilliam?” she asked softly.

  “Mmm?”

  “You seem far away. Is everything well?”

  Darcy placed a lingering kiss upon her swollen lips and stroked her arm. “Yes. I am very well, my love. There is nowhere else I would rather be.” He tightened his hold on her and settled into silence once mor
e.

  Though Elizabeth did not doubt the sincerity of his words, she was still not convinced his mind was completely free from anxiety. They remained silent for a while. Finally, Elizabeth said, “Your family seemed very nice. I especially liked your aunt. She is a very clever woman, and I enjoyed talking with her very much.”

  “Yes, she is. I believe she liked you, as well, as did my uncle, though I doubt he is ready to admit as much.” Darcy laughed. “I believe you impressed him far more than he ever anticipated. I was very proud of the way you handled yourself with him. He can sometimes be difficult.”

  Elizabeth smiled somewhat sadly. “I gathered as much by his speech today, but I can hardly blame him. It is obvious he loves you a great deal and is only trying to protect you. For all he knows, I could be a fortune hunter interested only in Pemberley, your annual income, and your position in society. He is right to be cautious. You know you would do no less for your sister.”

  Darcy’s brow furrowed. After several minutes, he asked, somewhat hesitantly, “Did you enjoy your shopping excursion with your family and Georgiana today?”

  Elizabeth grew pensive. “It was fine, Fitzwilliam. I very much enjoyed spending time with your sister. She is a remarkable young woman.”

  Though Darcy was pleased to hear she liked spending time with his sister, he was not convinced Elizabeth had enjoyed herself otherwise. In fact, he knew it to be quite the opposite, and he longed to speak to her of what had really taken place at Mrs. Duval’s shoppe. Darcy had thought Elizabeth had seemed rather subdued when she and Georgiana had arrived back at Darcy House that afternoon, though she did appear to recover quickly enough, enchanting his relations with her wit, her vivacity, and her natural grace. After speaking with Georgiana after dinner, however, he had a much better understanding as to why she seemed out of sorts.

  Throughout the rest of the evening, Darcy had watched her closely, looking for any further signs of distress or melancholy, but, if there were any, Elizabeth—whom he had never known to dwell upon the negative—endeavored, however unsuccessfully, to hide them. If given a moment alone, he had hoped she might open up to him, confide her feelings and her hurt, but, even now, she appeared to have little inclination to do so. If anything, she seemed to be taking comfort from his presence and his love, and for that, Darcy found himself ever grateful.

  Chapter 15

  They dined the following evening with Elizabeth’s Aunt and Uncle Gardiner in Gracechurch Street, where they—the Bennets, the Gardiners, the Darcys, and Bingley—passed many happy hours in extremely pleasant company. Though their house was not half so large nor so grand as his own—being in Cheapside rather than the fashionable Grosvenor Square—Darcy found himself invariably impressed by the elegant manners and intelligent conversation of the Gardiners, who, to his complete surprise, turned out to be brother and sister-in-law to Mrs. Bennet.

  When they arrived back at Darcy House, it was well past midnight, and everyone was anxious to retire for the night. While Elizabeth’s parents and sisters went directly to their respective rooms to commence with their bedtime routines, Elizabeth and Miss Darcy stood together, finalizing plans they had made to visit Hyde Park in the morning. Darcy was seeing to some last-minute business in his study. Tired from their long day, the two ladies were just about to bid each other good night when the door to the drawing room was thrown open to reveal none other than Lady Catherine de Bourgh.

  “Where is my nephew!” she demanded as her gaze swept through the room. As soon as her gaze came to rest on Elizabeth, her eyes narrowed with distaste. “And I suppose you are the insolent girl who has drawn him in!” It was not a question.

  Georgiana gasped and looked on helplessly as her aunt advanced toward Elizabeth. She somehow forced herself to take a step forward and say, though somewhat meekly, “Aunt Catherine, may I present Miss Elizabeth Bennet of Hertfordshire?”

  “I already know who she is!” she hollered in a voice that made her niece cringe. Then, turning to Elizabeth, she exclaimed, “I know it all, Miss Elizabeth Bennet! I know how you refused a perfectly good proposal of marriage from a respectable man whose prospects and station are far better suited to your meager situation in life in order to ensnare my nephew! Oh, yes! I have it on very good authority you have used your many charms and allurements in a shameful manner to seduce him—yes, seduce him, Miss Bennet!—into offering you marriage. Such disgraceful behavior will not be tolerated by his family. Whatever scheme you have been aspiring to will never take place. Mr. Darcy is engaged to my daughter. Now, what have you to say to that?”

  Normally, Elizabeth would have found quite a bit to say, but she was currently so stunned to discover that any of Darcy’s well-bred relations could possibly act in so deplorable a manner, it took her several moments to find her voice. Shaking only slightly, she spoke in as calm a manner as she was able. “If that is true, your ladyship, then Mr. Darcy certainly should never have made an offer to me; however, as I understand it, there is no prior commitment between your nephew and Miss de Bourgh. Mr. Darcy has denied the existence of such an arrangement, and therefore, as he has always been a man of his word, I must believe him over others who may feel far more of an inclination to be biased on this subject.”

  Lady Catherine gasped.

  “As to the other charges you have laid at my door, they are disgraceful indeed, but I shall never dignify them with a response. You have insulted me at every turn, and I beg you would excuse me. You cannot possibly have anything further to say that I would wish to hear.” She turned and made to leave, but Lady Catherine had not done. She reached out and actually caught Elizabeth’s wrist to detain her.

  “Not so hasty, Miss Bennet! You refuse to acknowledge the fact that your cousin, Mr. Collins—my very own trusted parson—witnessed you in a compromising position of the most offensive nature with my nephew, and still, you will not answer for it? Shall this be borne? No, it certainly shall not! You, Miss Bennet, have shown yourself to be a woman of the worst kind—wild, wanton, and totally unfeeling for all you shall make my poor nephew suffer! Perhaps you have managed to mislead him, but I am not so easily fooled. I see you for what you are—nothing but a fortune hunter who is no better than a common woman of the night!”

  “Enough!” Darcy’s voice rang loudly throughout the room as he stalked over to his aunt. By his expression, all present could tell he was furious, his body practically shaking with his contained rage. When he turned his gaze upon the two women who meant more to him than anything else, he was further angered to see Elizabeth’s eyes swimming with unshed tears. He took his place beside her and moved to encircle her waist with his arm, but to his surprise, she pulled away and, without so much as a glance at him, walked swiftly from the room. Casting a wary look at her aunt, Georgiana followed her.

  Darcy fixed his aunt with a look of loathing she would not soon forget and, through gritted teeth, demanded, “How dare you accuse my future wife of such a disgusting machination! What evil demon has robbed you of your senses and induced you to speak such vile filth in my home? Of what could you possibly be thinking?”

  “Come, Nephew! You cannot possibly know of what you speak. Admit it. You have been taken in, duped, if you will, by this scheming little upstart. Can you not see that she cares nothing for you? It is only your money she wants. You have been blinded by her charms and her favors. When word gets out you intend to marry a woman you have taken as your mistress, we shall all be disgraced! Is such a woman to be sister to Georgiana? Are the shades of Pemberley to be thus polluted? Your parents would turn over in their graves to see you behaving thus!”

  Never before had Darcy felt as though he could have struck a woman, but as he stared in disbelief at his aunt, he had to remind himself repeatedly to rein in his temper before it caused him to act in a way he would certainly come to regret. Breathing deeply, he paced the length of the drawing-room floor as her ladyship continued her tirade, mercilessly berating Elizabeth. At length, when she began to talk of his cousin A
nne and how Darcy’s own mother had planned their union to join their ancestral houses, it was absolutely the last straw.

  His tone was venomous. “Lady Catherine, you would do well to remember you are still insulting my future wife with such outlandish insinuations! Never do so again, madam, and do not attempt to disillusion me with such ridiculous nonsense! I never heard my mother speak of her wish for a marriage between Anne and myself, nor have I ever heard it uttered by any member of my family other than you. As a matter of fact, it has been many years now I have believed such a scheme to be merely your own machination in order to lay claim to Pemberley and unite the Fitzwilliam fortune under one name. It was wrong of me to remain silent. Now I must insist you leave.”

  He rang then for a burly footman, who seemed to materialize out of thin air, and then he ushered his aunt out of the drawing room, into the foyer, and toward the door. Lady Catherine attempted to speak her mind, but Darcy would hear none of it. “You can have nothing further to say, Aunt. I will take this time to tell you, however, should you take it upon yourself to spread any of these vicious falsehoods—and they are falsehoods—against Elizabeth and myself, I will not be held accountable for my actions. This malicious slander has been fabricated and expounded upon by a sycophantic, small-minded man who is uncommonly bitter over the rejection of his own misdirected suit. That obsequious little parson of yours wasted no time, I might add, insinuating himself upon another respectable woman in the very same neighborhood, whom he managed to convince to accept him only three days later. Three days!” he bellowed, “Yet, still, he insists on being vindictive and spiteful. Worse still, he is your clergyman, Lady Catherine—hand-selected by you, though God only knows what for!”