Mr. Darcy's Undoing

Home > Literature > Mr. Darcy's Undoing > Page 22
Mr. Darcy's Undoing Page 22

by Abigail Reynolds


  There was a pause before she spoke. “It was shortly after you left for the final time,” she said slowly. “I had considered it earlier, while you were away in London, but not seriously; it was not until the last time I saw you that I recognized I would not be able to forget you, no matter how hard I tried, and that I could not marry him, feeling as I did about you, even if it was my only chance for an independent future. And with Jane’s engagement, the pressure to safeguard my family was no longer there.”

  “To safeguard your family? What do you mean by that?”

  She sighed. “It was one of the reasons I agreed to marry him—to protect my mother and sisters from an intolerable situation after my father’s death. I could not justify sentencing them to near penury when there was a perfectly agreeable gentleman who wished to marry me, and could provide for them in the future.”

  Darcy frowned, unable to forget that he had proposed to her not long before, and he would have been in a far better position to provide support to her family. “Surely your father would not leave you in such financial straits as that,” he said with some authority.

  She tilted her head back to look at him, surprised to find him unaware of her family’s financial situation. “My father settled 5000 pounds on my mother; there are no savings apart from that, and neither my mother nor my younger sisters would do well in straitened circumstances,” she said with some apprehension for his reaction. “I had always thought Jane would marry, and I would not need to worry, but when I returned from Kent and saw how out of spirits she remained, I knew I could no longer depend on that, so the responsibility fell to me.”

  She could not have guessed how relieved he was by this intelligence regarding her motives in accepting Mr. Covington’s offer. He could not fault her for taking on the responsibility, and in fact could only blame himself that the necessity had arisen at all; had he not endeavoured to separate Bingley from Jane, Elizabeth might have remained free. It only convinced him further of her worth to know she had refused both him and Mr. Collins under circumstances which would have caused any other woman to accept any suitor of means, no matter how distasteful. Yet still he could not free himself from the thought of her with Mr. Covington, and he said impulsively, “Yet you refused me—there must have been some difference.”

  “Oh, William,” she said, distressed to realize he was still pained by her decisions. “That was a completely different circumstance; I had such a grave misunderstanding of you. It would have been completely reprehensible for me to consider marrying you then, given what I thought I knew of you. He was someone I had known for years; I knew him to be amiable, and I felt a certain affection for him which I hoped might grow someday into love, but I admit I accepted him with reservations—he was not the man I had dreamed of marrying. I might have been content with him, had I never known anything different, but he would never have been able to stir me the way you do.” She looked at him earnestly in the flickering light of the lamp.

  “You had reservations about accepting me as well,” he said uncomfortably.

  “That does not compare—they were not about you or my affection for you, but only about the consequences of our marriage. It was completely the opposite situation. I loved you enough to deny myself for your benefit.” She was beginning to understand how much uncertainty underlay his confident manner. She could not comprehend how he could be insecure of his place in her affections, but if he needed reassurance, she was not loathe to give it. “You are everything I dreamed of,” she said seriously; then, her high spirits unwilling to be subdued for long, she boldly ran her hand down his body and added teasingly, “And quite a few things I never began to dream about as well.”

  Darcy had a potent reaction to both her words and her unanticipated forwardness. Putting his hand over hers, he wordlessly encouraged her to continue her explorations. It was a suggestion she was not averse to receiving, both to fulfill her own curiosity and for the heady pleasure of watching his response to her touch. She had never before had the opportunity to touch him when he was not making equal inroads upon her body and her peace of mind, and she found quickly how very much she enjoyed the intimacy of the warmth of his skin under her fingers. Even beyond that, her sense of playfulness was engaged by discovering what manner of touch pleased him the most, what made his eyes darken with desire, and what made him groan with pleasure. As she approached his arousal, he pushed himself against her until she brazenly took his hint. She was too astonished by his response to feel much shock at her discoveries there, and she found herself both aroused and satisfied by reducing him to the same level of distracted, moaning excitement that he had induced in her several times in the past.

  Finally he removed her hand, his breathing uneven. “If this is an example of what you can do to me when you are merely improvising, I hesitate to think what it will be like when you know what you are doing to me. You will be quite dangerous, my love.”

  She smiled at him mischievously. “I certainly hope so!” she said.

  Her unabashed comment made Darcy feel an almost irrepressible urge to make love to her without delay. He had not allowed himself to hope she would want to please him in such an active manner, and he was profoundly aroused by her clear enjoyment of her success. He captured her mouth, trying to relieve himself by taking every bit of pleasure he could from it. She had taken him remarkably close to the edge of his control—perhaps beyond it! he thought as his hand, apparently with a mind of its own, travelled directly to her most private parts, where his fingers slid deep inside her.

  Involuntarily she raised her hips to meet him, the intimacy of feeling his fingers within her further arousing her desire. Darcy made an inarticulate sound as his lips travelled hungrily down her neck and then her body until he captured her nipple in his mouth. She moaned as the current of pleasure began to run through her, only intensified by her greater knowledge of what was to come.

  His fingers touched a tender spot on her as they moved, and she flinched slightly. Darcy stopped immediately, and looked at her in concern. “Should I stop, my dearest? I do not wish to hurt you,” he said, his effort to hold himself back visible.

  She smiled at him mischievously. “Well, now that I know what is to come, I might as well put my knowledge to good use,” she said archly.

  His fingers gently found their way to the spot which could most readily arouse her desire, and busied themselves with drawing as much response from her as she could give. “You may think you know what is to come,” he said seductively as she began to moan beneath his touch, “but I have plans for you which go well beyond what you have discovered so far.”

  She opened her eyes to look at him in question, already beyond the point of speech, her hips moving against his fingers in search of even deeper pleasure.

  He smiled in satisfaction at her state. “I warned you I had many improper desires—and I intend to ensure you enjoy them all,” he said as he lowered his mouth to her breast once more.

  Chapter 11

  Elizabeth felt unaccountably shy as she went down to breakfast the next morning. It was not so much a matter of regretting the previous night as being embarrassed to now know herself capable of such wild and wanton behaviour, and to have it known as well by Mr. Darcy. He had not been exaggerating when he had warned her that he had even more improper designs on her. She flushed as she recalled the previous night’s activity, the agonizing pleasure of his mouth at her most secret places, and how he had encouraged her to set her own demands by taking her place atop him as they joined together. While she did not believe he was truly disturbed by her conduct, she worried a little that his calmer and more controlled side would disapprove.

  She greeted the others as she entered. Darcy appeared sedate, but she was unable to gauge his mood. He was at the side table helping himself to breakfast, and she walked over to join him.

  After the conversation at the table resumed, he leaned toward her and said quietly, “So
, are you still willing to speak to me, my love?”

  Although his words were spoken jestingly, she could hear his very real concern, and she realized that he was even more worried what she was thinking of the previous night than she was. “Well, our days would be very long indeed if I were not,” she said, looking up at him with a smile, then adding in a much softer voice, “though I do not expect it would have so much impact on our nights.”

  His eyes flared. “I can recommend these rolls, Elizabeth; they are delicious,” he said, indicating a plate of pastries before her. As she took one, he whispered in her ear, “Though nothing is as delicious as you when you are taking your pleasure.”

  Her cheeks covered instantly with the deepest blush. She could not believe he had said such an intimate thing to her in front of others, even if they were quite unable to hear. When she finally looked up at him with amused reproach in her eyes, she saw a look of distinct satisfaction on his face, and realized he had thoroughly enjoyed discomfiting her.

  She debated making a retort, but instead murmured, “William, a remark like that will not go unrevenged.” She gave him a bright smile and turned toward the table.

  She seated herself next to Georgiana, having noted that the girl appeared about as embarrassed as she herself had been earlier, and surmised she was worrying about having confided so much in her the previous night. Feeling for her discomfort, Elizabeth forcibly tore her thoughts away from Darcy and set herself to the task of easing Georgiana’s worries. It was as good a distraction for her as it was for Georgiana, and by the time she looked up at Darcy again, she could meet his eyes without her earlier discomfiture.

  After breakfast, Jane asked Elizabeth for her assistance with some matters of the household. Elizabeth tossed a saucy glance in Darcy’s direction before going with her sister, knowing full well he would have preferred to have her company himself.

  Darcy, finding himself at loose ends while Elizabeth was with Jane, decided to play billiards, only to discover his cousin had already had the same thought. On finding him at the billiards table, he challenged him to a match, to which Colonel Fitzwilliam readily agreed. He seemed quieter than was his wont during the game, causing Darcy to wonder if he might not have recovered from their recent quarrel. It disturbed him to think such a thing could come between them after their lifetime of friendship.

  In an attempt to broach the subject, he said, “I understand that I am in your debt for speaking to Miss Bennet on my behalf. She has told me your arguments had quite an influence on her in making her decision.”

  Colonel Fitzwilliam glanced up at him sharply, then returned his attention to the table where he neatly sank another ball. “If it helped to persuade her, I am glad; though it was not on your behalf that I spoke to her, but in her own interest. I would not want to see her suffering a lifetime of poverty and spinsterhood because she was too considerate to risk causing you a little discomfort. God knows it is unlikely she would receive any other offers; certainly not from anyone who has as much to offer her as you do.” He eyed the table closely, apparently pondering his next shot.

  Darcy was somewhat taken aback by this summation, which seemed to make no room for tender sentiments. Recovering, he said, “Well, whatever your reason, I appreciate the result.”

  “Yes, I imagine you do,” his cousin said dryly. He cursed as his carefully placed shot missed the mark.

  Darcy fell silent. It was a novel and disagreeable sensation to find himself so ill at ease with his cousin, and without a clear understanding of the reason. He was all too aware that the previous night he had committed the very sin of which he had been falsely accused during their argument, and although he recognized Colonel Fitzwilliam could not possibly be aware of what had transpired, his guilty conscience had difficulty believing it.

  They took their turns at the table in an uncomfortable silence until finally Colonel Fitzwilliam asked, “What are your plans for after the wedding? Pemberley?”

  Grateful for the opening, Darcy said, “Yes, I think so, although I have not discussed it with Miss Bennet as yet. I would like to show her Pemberley.”

  “It is one of your more attractive assets,” said Colonel Fitzwilliam coolly. “It will no doubt make an impression upon her.”

  Darcy paused and, without moving from his position over the cue, looked up at his cousin. “What is it, Richard?” he asked mildly. “You are not yourself—I have never seen you so.”

  The door opened to reveal Bingley. “Darcy, Fitzwilliam, is this where you have been hiding yourselves?” he asked cheerfully, oblivious to the long, serious look between the two men.

  Darcy returned his attention to the table and made a successful shot. Straightening, he said, “Yes, Elizabeth is off somewhere with your wife, talking about whatever it is women talk about.” He wondered with a little embarrassment just what she might be confiding in her sister.

  Bingley’s face broke into a wide smile. “Dearest Jane,” he said fondly. “She is dreading losing Lizzy’s company, I must say, and I imagine she will want to steal all the time with her she can before then.”

  A flash of humour showed in Darcy’s eyes. “She may find some competition from me—I am not so ready as that to spare Elizabeth from my side.”

  “Is it not amazing, Darcy, how very necessary those lovely ladies have become to us?” said Bingley.

  Colonel Fitzwilliam made a noise of disgust and rolled his eyes, clearly impatient with this fulsome talk.

  Darcy looked at him with amusement. “Just wait, Richard; some day it will be your turn to be enslaved by a pair of bright eyes.”

  A look of sharp anger, usually foreign to the colonel, flashed across his face. “Don’t be insufferable,” he snapped. As Darcy and Bingley looked at him in surprise, he racked his cue and abruptly departed the room.

  “He has been in an odd mood of late,” said Darcy finally. “I would not worry about it too much; I am sure he will be back to himself soon.”

  “I hope so,” said Bingley, his voice expressing confusion and doubt.

  ***

  Elizabeth’s thoughts had not travelled far from the events of the previous night, and when she saw the opportunity while she was alone with her sister, she said carefully, “Jane, do you remember a time, some years ago, when you and I were at Aunt Phillips’s, and she had tasted a little too much of the wine?”

  “I remember several occasions of the sort, in fact, Lizzy,” replied her sister with an affectionate smile.

  Elizabeth’s expression became mischievous. “I refer to one particular time, when she took it upon herself to enlighten us as to the mysteries of the marriage bed.” She had a vivid recollection of her own carefully hidden fascination as her aunt had described the fumbling under nightclothes leading directly to a then improbable-sounding event in which a wife’s duty primarily consisted of lying still.

  Jane flushed delicately. “Oh, yes, that time.” She looked at Elizabeth with some concern. “You need not worry, dearest Lizzy—there truly is nothing to fear. I am sure Mr. Darcy will be gentle with you, and I daresay it is a happy thing to be able to give your husband such pleasure.”

  Elizabeth, finding it somewhat difficult to reconcile this description with the events of the previous night, asked, “But for you, Jane—is it pleasant for you?”

  A slight frown line appeared between Jane’s eyebrows. “I do not think it is meant to be pleasant precisely, but it is not unpleasant, and perhaps there are even moments when… but in any case, it is over quickly, and afterwards it is enjoyable to lie together.” She blushed slightly at this admission.

  “I see,” said Elizabeth, who could not have described her time with Darcy as either “not unpleasant” nor “over quickly.” With amusement she thought, Well, if we are to spend half the night in such activity, I should be grateful it is pleasurable to me, at least! It did not seem, however, that her dearest sister was likel
y to prove a confidante in these matters.

  ***

  The following morning Elizabeth found herself wondering if she was doomed to forever meet Darcy over the breakfast table with the deepest of blushes. No, she quickly amended her thought with amusement, once we are married, I will have the opportunity to blush as soon as I see him on awakening! The idea caused her to feel even greater embarrassment, and she turned her attention to her breakfast in an attempt to avoid Darcy’s gaze. His eyes reminded her far too much of the last time she had seen him, when he had once again came to her room late in the night.

  She had been uncertain as to whether he would take the risk of coming to her again so soon, and after the loss of sleep the previous night, had fallen asleep. She awoke some time later to find him sitting on her bed, shirtless, with one of her feet lying in his lap, the other cradled gently in his hand. His lips were tracing their way up the inside of her leg, pushing aside her nightdress as he went. He was partway up her calf when she awoke, and the intimacy of his appearance took her breath away.

  On seeing him, she awkwardly struggled to raise herself to a sitting position, but he silently pressed her back with one hand, his dark eyes glittering at her as he moved his mouth upwards to delicately caress the soft skin of her inner thigh. Taking his time, he watched her arousal build, his lips approaching close to her secret places, then dancing away to explore the lines of her hips. By the time he was making himself free with the taut skin of her torso, her breath had been coming rapidly and she tangled her hand in his hair, moaning his name and seeking to bring his face up to hers. He would have no part of it, though, pausing only long enough to murmur, “Not yet, my love,” as he extricated her from her nightdress, leaving her exposed to his appreciative eyes. She waited for him to touch her with his hands, but he did not, only letting her feel the sensation of his lips and his tongue against her as he continued to move upward to place kisses on the tender flesh of her breasts.

 

‹ Prev