by P. O. Dixon
In an instant, he stood behind Elizabeth. She swept her damp hair to the side and he commenced loosening the laces—slowly and deliberately.
The irony of their situation was not lost on her. She dared not remark on it. A quiet chuckle escaped Elizabeth’s mouth.
“Pray, what are you thinking, Miss Elizabeth?”
Now able to fend for herself, she turned to face him. “I dare not confess it, sir. Who is to say what you might then think of me?”
“I am willing to chance it if you are. Pray, do not keep your husband-to-be in suspense.”
“Well, sir, there is much talk that we engaged in scandalous conduct that day in the library when you and I both know that nothing happened. What a shame it is to be accused of something one has no knowledge of.”
“What are you saying?”
“Hushed whispers have the two of us committing the most egregious acts when the truth is I have never even been kissed.”
“I am not opposed to addressing your lack of—shall we say—experience. That is supposing that you wish it.”
Teasing, she said, “You would really do such a thing ... commit such a selfless act on my behalf, sir? Is it not enough that I have sought your services as an abigail?”
“I am not opposed to helping you along in any way I can. I would do anything for a worthy cause.” By now, he stood directly in front of her—closer to her than he had ever been before. His eyes traced a path from her bewitching dark eyes to her tempting lips, her slender neckline, back to her lips, her eyes.
Moistening his lips, he placed his hands about her neck and gently massaged her. He brushed his thumbs under her chin. Lifting her head, he leaned closer, closed his eyes, and kissed her. He gently coaxed her lips apart. Her lips taste utterly divine. Kissing her was everything he always dreamed it would be.
Savoring the pleasure of their first kiss, Darcy allowed his mind to race ahead of him, thus giving way to thoughts of intimate caresses and more passionate kissing, followed by tender brushing of his fingers along her décolletage, her breasts, and the curve of her waist. He would ease her muslin gown from her shoulders, allowing it to fall to the floor. Then he would lift her in his arms and lower her to his bed. He’d lie next to her and, still kissing her, begin raising her petticoat slowly, inch by inch, and commence trailing his fingers along her thighs, outside and within, until he reached the apex of her firm, slender legs. Should he find her moist, he would be satisfied that he had done his job. Should he not ... he would return his fingers to her neckline and slowly trail them once again to her breasts. Then he would allow his lips to trace the same sensuous path as his fingers, taking care not to leave evidence of his ardent ministrations on her creamy skin. More urgency would ensue once his mouth pressed ardently against her bosom. When next his fingers found themselves where they had been earlier, she was sure to be wet and, with only the slightest encouragement, his lips would then replace his fingers once again.
The longer his lips lingered tenderly on hers, the more burning became his desire. His impassioned mind refused to surrender his intoxicating imaginings. Were they any place other than his bedroom, he was certain he would not be entertaining such fantasies.
Darcy broke off the kiss. He rested his forehead against hers, and they remained in that attitude a few moments longer.
“I shall wait for you in the parlor.” With those words, he hastily quit the room.
Later, Darcy and Elizabeth slowly made their way to Longbourn, both on horseback with him holding the reins for her. The steady clopping of hooves was the only sound to be heard.
In vain, Darcy struggled to think of anything other than what had unfolded between the two of them in his apartment. How wonderful it felt finally to kiss Elizabeth. Thoughts of making love to her had been creeping into his dreams since he first met her. He never imagined he would actually find himself in such a position owing to the difference in their circumstances.
Her low connections and lack of fortune meant nothing to him now. They were bound to each other. For the rest of his life, no one would ever mean more to him than Elizabeth would. As much as he longed to be soon kissing her again, a part of him knew that such a thing would never do. The last thing he wanted was to frighten her with his aching longings. With every fiber of his being, he yearned for her. However, he had no wish to seduce her before they exchanged vows. He wanted her the right way—as his wife. He wanted their first time together to be in the comfort of his own home—her new home.
I must regulate my ardent desires for her until we are man and wife.
When she wasn’t looking, Darcy studied Elizabeth’s lovely face. He would not cease berating himself for allowing his passions to get ahead of him. He wanted Elizabeth to be comfortable in his presence, but he did not mean to take advantage of her lack of experience as a means of satisfying his own baser needs.
I shall not allow my desires to get in the way of tomorrow’s lesson—assuming she will even consent to meet me after my conduct this morning.
For Elizabeth’s part, her feelings bore an odd measure of guilt laced with curiosity. The abrupt cessation of their kiss followed by his swift departure from the room had spoken volumes.
Surely he will think my behavior unbecoming for having allowed him such a liberty. However, he and I are to be married. If I know anything about him, it is that he is a passionate man. Our kiss was surely a confirmation of that.
The silence between them was intolerable, and Elizabeth sought to put an end to it.
“You have been rather quiet, Mr. Darcy.”
“Tell me what you wish for me to say, and it will be said.”
Elizabeth looked into his eyes. “Sir, I insist that you rid yourself of your tendency to put up such walls between us. I tolerated such tactics when we first met, but I do not know that I can countenance doing so now—not after this morning.”
“I—I have been silently admonishing myself for allowing matters to unfold as they did.”
“Are you saying that you are sorry you kissed me, sir?”
“No—I am sorry for the thoughts that accompanied our first kiss.”
“If I may ask, what thoughts were those?”
“Are you laughing at me, Elizabeth—pardon, Miss Elizabeth?”
“I would not dare. I know all too well that you are not to be laughed at, sir. However, I would ask that you cease scolding yourself over that which you cannot possibly control. What is the point in that?”
“I do not know that you would be nearly so generous if you knew where my private thoughts took me—” Darcy swallowed “—took us.”
“Sir, it is true that I have little experience with regard to what happens when a man and a woman commit themselves to each other; however, I am not entirely ignorant on the matter. You’ve seen my father’s library. You ought to know I have made good use of my time perusing those books he believes are tucked safely away in the farthest recesses of the stacks. Now, despise me if you dare.”
“Miss Elizabeth!”
“Pray you will pardon me, sir, if I have offended your sensibilities. I only meant to relieve you of the burden you are suffering that you may have bruised mine.”
Darcy was no stranger to the fact that Elizabeth enjoyed professing opinions that were not always her own merely for sport. This he counted as one of the many things he admired about her. His spirits lightened, he was more than happy to oblige her in her teasing game.
He slid down from his tall stallion and strode to Elizabeth’s mount. Placing his hands around her tiny waist, he lowered her to the ground. Allowing scant space between them, he removed one hand from her waist and lifted her chin with his finger. His eyes daring, he peered into hers.
“Shall I take it that your reading experiences have prepared you for all you need to know about what happens between a man and a woman?”
Elizabeth gulped. Her heart slammed against her chest. Biting her lower lip, she said, “No—”
Leaning closer, he whispered
in her ear. “Good, for that will be my job.”
His warm breath against her skin stirred her entire being.
His eyes feasting on her face, he moistened his lips. “Come,” he said tenderly, taking her hand in his. “Let us walk the remainder of the way.”
Strolling along, Elizabeth could scarcely calm her racing heartbeat. What in the world was I thinking to be teasing him? I ought to know by now that such a man is not to be toyed with. The way he stared at her sent piercing sensations coursing through her body that lingered still. Even the touch of his hand caused her stomach to flutter. Elizabeth did not know whether to be pleased with herself knowing just how much Mr. Darcy was in her power or deeply concerned with the knowledge of just how much she was surrendering herself to his.
Chapter 9 – ‘Tis as Good as a Lord
Soon after, Elizabeth entered the house and handed the awaiting servant her bonnet. Her mama approached her directly. “Lizzy, my wonderful child, pray where on Earth have you been all this time? I had expected you to return from your morning ramble hours ago.”
The sight of her mother recalled Elizabeth to the evening before.
When her mother went up to her dressing room, Elizabeth followed her and made the important communication. Its effect was most extraordinary, for on first hearing it, Mrs. Bennet sat quite still, unable to utter a syllable. At length, she began to recover. She fidgeted about in her chair, got up, sat down again, wondered and blessed herself.
“Good gracious! Lord bless me! Only think! Dear me! Mr. Darcy! Who would have thought it! And is it really true? Oh! My sweetest Lizzy! How rich and how great you will be! What pin-money, what jewels, what carriages you will have!
“I am so pleased—so happy. Such a charming man! So handsome! So tall! Oh, my dear Lizzy! Pray, apologize for my having disliked him so much before. I hope he will overlook it. Dear, dear Lizzy. A house in town! Everything that is charming! Ten thousand a year! Oh, Lord! What will become of me? I shall go distracted.”
This was enough to prove that her approbation need not be doubted and all her hopes of an alliance with Longbourn’s heir forgotten. Elizabeth, rejoicing that such an effusion was heard only by herself, soon went away. But before she had been three minutes in her own room, her mother followed her.
“My dearest child,” she cried, “I can think of nothing else! Ten thousand a year, and very likely more! ‘Tis as good as a Lord! And a special license. You must and shall be married by a special license. Oh! I do not know how I shall ever sleep tonight. There is so much to entertain!”
Elizabeth hoped that, by now, her mama had accustomed herself to the news, thus sparing Mr. Darcy the prospect of an unseemly spectacle. “I—I was caught in the rain and I sought shelter at —”
“—You certainly do not look like someone who was caught in the rain. Your clothes are as dry as can be. Oh! Never mind all that. Run upstairs and change into something more fitting for your future husband. He has ten thousand pounds you know, and I shall expect him to call on Longbourn at any moment. Put on the lovely dress that I had Sarah place on your bed. You must look your best for Mr. Darcy, else he might change his mind.”
Mrs. Bennet continued, “I am most eager to share our family’s happy news with all my neighbors. However, I do not dare until I have undeniable proof that Mr. Darcy did not awaken this morning to realize that he had made a mistake and change his mind.”
Elizabeth could hardly blame her mother for her skepticism. There was a moment in the middle of the night before where she did not believe that Mr. Darcy had proposed to her either. Everyone expected that Jane would be the one to marry one of the handsome, wealthy gentlemen from town. No one expected it to be Elizabeth—not even Elizabeth herself.
She owed it all to an innocent half hour or so in Netherfield’s library. A pang of guilt overspread her being. What happened this morning at Netherfield was anything but innocent, even if they were engaged to be married. The tender brush of his fingers along her back as he loosened her laces, the subtle whiff of spice and sandalwood when he stood so close to her, and the sweet taste of his lips when they kissed flooded her mind. Mr. Darcy had awakened desires in her that she had only read about.
Pray he does not regard my conduct as wanton when I merely meant to challenge him. I would not like to think I need to change my high spiritedness in order to maintain his good opinion, but I suppose a little temperance will not hurt. Elizabeth resolved that a bit more guardedness on her part was exactly what was in order.
The sound of a gentleman clearing his throat prompted her mother to spin around on her heels. “Mr. Darcy!”
She hurried to him, took him by the hand, and clutched it firmly in hers. “Oh! This is a happy day indeed. Come, sir. Make yourself comfortable. Pray you will join us for dinner this evening. I shall invite all the best families, and I shall order Cook to prepare all your favorites.”
Releasing his hand, Mrs. Bennet took hold of one of his arms and commenced leading him to the parlor. “That is to say, once you have advised me of your favorites, sir. I assure you that Cook will do a splendid job. Although, I suppose you have two or three French cooks at least. However, you will not be disappointed.” Mrs. Bennet glanced over her shoulder and saw Elizabeth was still standing in the exact spot as when her betrothed arrived, her mouth agape. Mrs. Bennet’s eyes then flew in the direction of the stairs in a not so subtle hint to her daughter to run along and change into the lovely gown in her room.
After dinner that evening, Mrs. Bennet was in very great spirits. She made it her business to accept the glad wishes of all those invited to celebrate her good fortune in the spirit of a proud mama who had done her duty in seeing her daughter make such an excellent match.
Her sister’s commendations were somewhat less flattering than Mrs. Bennet might have hoped, although she could not say she was surprised. She always suspected her dear sister, Mrs. Agatha Philips, who had married a Meryton attorney as opposed to a gentleman of leisure, and whose youthful beauty was not to be compared to her own handsome looks, was rather jealous.
Mrs. Philips said, “It is my understanding that Mr. Darcy had no choice but to marry our Lizzy if he wished to retain the right to call himself a true gentleman.”
The other woman arched her brow. “What are you saying, Sister?”
“Surely you are privy to the fact that Lizzy and Mr. Darcy spent a prodigious amount of time alone in the library at Netherfield – just the two of them - when she and Jane were guests. Rumor also has it that they were known to take long walks to the exclusion of the rest of the Bingley party. Need I remind you that Lizzy was the only young woman he danced with at the ball, save his friends from town? But wait, for I’ve been remiss in not telling you the wickedest part of it all.” She lowered her voice and leaned in. “A servant who could be overheard remarking upon the affair was dismissed shortly thereafter.” Resuming her former attitude, she said, “Now that you have heard it all, what say you about that?”
It would take more than such a piddling account of how her good fortunate came to be than this to rob Mrs. Bennet of her joy. “My Lizzy is a cunning girl, indeed, to have found herself in such a position.” She smiled knowingly. “I always supposed my second eldest daughter could not be so clever for nothing.”
Having been described as an elegant woman by Longbourn’s heir on first making her acquaintance, Mrs. Philips real opinion of him would not be repressed. “Certainly too clever to settle for the likes of Mr. William Collins, I’d say.”
Mrs. Philips was anything but elegant. A favorite of her younger nieces who was always the best source of the latest gossip in town, the lady was often described as rather vulgar.
Mrs. Bennet waved her handkerchief in the air dismissively. “Oh! Forget about Mr. Collins!”
Mrs. Philips peered over the rim of her spectacles. “Then you are not at all concerned that he spent the greater part of the day at Lucas Lodge paying court to Sir William’s eldest daughter.”
M
rs. Bennet huffed. “I could not care one jot where he goes or with whom he spends his time. Our Mr. Darcy is one hundred times that gentleman’s consequence, I am sure.”
~*~
Elizabeth received an abundance of felicitations that evening. She could honestly say her intended suffered her friends and neighbors good wishes with ample civility so as to give no one any cause to complain. She also had opportunities to be snubbed a time or two. Her aggrieved cousin went out of his way to avoid her as best he could. She wondered at his being there. True, he was still a guest at Longbourn, but surely he took no pleasure in it. She came to suspect his purposes, plain and simple, were to vex her. He spent a great deal of time wooing her friend Charlotte. Elizabeth could not be too disheartened by the swift transference of his affection, despite what it portended for her friend. At least he wasn’t wooing Jane.
My sister is safe.
Before the evening drew to a close, Darcy and Elizabeth found a quiet moment alone. She said, “I imagine you will want to return to Derbyshire before Christmas, Mr. Darcy. You must miss your home.”
“To be honest, Miss Elizabeth, I had looked forward to returning to Derbyshire for December. My sister and I spend Christmas in Matlock with my late mother’s family,” he replied, his hands clutched behind his back.
“You have my condolences on the loss of your parents, sir,” she said, her voice solemn.
“I appreciate your saying that.”
“You said you had looked forward to returning to Derbyshire. Is that to say your feelings have changed?”
“Must you even ask?” He took her by the hand. “I have no intention of spending an entire month apart from you. As much as I love my family, and no doubt I will miss them dearly, my time is better spent here with you. How I wish we might be married soon so you might come to Derbyshire with me.” He kissed her hand. “However, such a scheme would require that you spend the season away from your family, and I do not expect you to make such a sacrifice. Next year, we shall invite all our relatives to celebrate Christmas with us at Pemberley. That is, of course, assuming such a prospect would bring you pleasure.”