Masquerade

by Emma East

  If only I had been there to convince them otherwise... but it has all turned out well. And the next time? What else would she miss by hiding away with Darcy while her family lived in blissful ignorance? And when did I become the type of woman who would abandon my familial duties for a stranger? He has given little to me in return. While I risk condemnation, he would be rewarded in society for our activities. And if I am not careful, he will have not only my body, but my heart… She went to bed with anxiety tightening her stomach and nausea rising in her throat. She did not want to love him, not the man who had only sought her out for physical pleasure. She would never be a partner to him. The dizzying heights he sent her to did not matter when she would always make that long fall back to reality. He did not love her. No respectable man could, with her shameful desires. Yet, her heart had unspooled enough to reach out for him… No, she had to end it. It was the only chance she could give herself. The next day only strengthened her resolve. A letter addressed to Elizabeth arrived at breakfast and it did not convey good news. Jane’s health had been compromised by traveling in such conditions, and she would remain at Netherfield until she was well enough to travel.

  “I shall walk to Netherfield today,” Elizabeth said upon reading the note aloud to her family over breakfast. It was all her fault. If she had been in her home as she was supposed to, if she had not thrown herself into Darcy’s arms the moment she could, if she had thought for one moment about her family‘s well-being…

  Her mother turned to Mr. Bennet. “Mr. Bennet, the coach is surely not needed today.”

  “Unfortunately—”

  “And we must think of our poor Jane, who will want to be aided by her loving sister.”

  “If you will allow me to speak, madam.” At Mr. Bennet’s expression, Mrs. Bennet’s mouth closed with a snap of teeth. “Unfortunately, I ordered it repainted this morning. You, however, may take any horse you please, Lizzy.”

  “No, thank you, a walk would do me well,” said Elizabeth. She hoped to find the words to tell Darcy that she could not go on. “And perhaps I can find Marvin upon the way.”

  Mr. Bennet spent the rest of the breakfast in silence, while Mrs. Bennet chattered on about how Elizabeth should take the road to Netherfield and forsake the shortest path. She, after all, did not want to arrive in a state of disarray. Elizabeth murmured her agreement and as soon as breakfast was over, she set out for Netherfield.

  Chapter Fourteen

  That Elizabeth could retain her blush after all of their assignations was equal parts amusing and arousing. Darcy thought of how she had responded to him in the cottage, as they made love in the early dawn light. Her soft keening in his ear, her nails pressing into his back. How she fitted against him and around him. How had he captured such a magnificently passionate creature?

  When he asked her this, making small circles on her thigh with the tip of his finger, she merely laughed.

  “Oh, stop it.”

  “You,” he said with all seriousness, pressing a kiss to the top of her shoulder, “are unlike any woman, kitten.”

  “If you continue on inflating my ego, my head will barely fit through the door!”

  “Good.” This time, his kiss had an edge. “I do not want you to leave.”

  And she had not, until it was too late to even catch breakfast and clouds rolled in on the horizon. Darcy had returned to Netherfield only thinking of the next time and mentally beginning the countdown until he could make love to her again.

  It was dangerous to want her this much. Especially when he had become lax. He could not always find it within himself to spill his seed on her thigh or the mattress—not when their joining was so intense, and when her own legs locked around them in the heights of her pleasure. Despite Elizabeth’s knowledge of her bodily health—she was meticulous, according to her haughty assurance that they had nothing to fear during this phase of her cycle—there was still a danger he had finally allowed himself to recognize. The thought of a hasty marriage, what the papers would say, what his aunt would say, was nightmare fuel.

  But it would not deter him from seeking her out again if they had the chance. It was only a pity that the wrong Bennet sister was upstairs, though that was a contrary thought. He wanted Elizabeth in full health, with nothing impeding him taking her however he wished.

  “Mr. Darcy, are you sure you are feeling well? You appear flushed.”

  Miss Bingley peered at him with some concern over her roll.

  Darcy cleared his throat. It was time to bring his thoughts to safer topics, considering he was in company. “I am fine, thank you.”

  Miss Bingley sniffed. “It was very dangerous of you to go after that horse yesterday. If the fool creature wishes to run away, I would say let it! Poor Miss Bennet, having to deal with it all this way!”

  “Yes,” said Darcy, “but it needed to be done, and I was better equipped than anyone, still in my riding clothes.”

  “The whole nonsense of it astounds me still,” Miss Bingley said, forging on to the real topic she wished to discuss. “How her father could have allowed her to come in a thunderstorm—”

  “A Miss Elizabeth Bennet, sir, madam.”

  Darcy’s legs were quicker to the uptake than Darcy himself. He stood, turning to face the door. Elizabeth walked in like she had just stepped out of his memories. Her face flushed, her hair wild and falling out of its pins in places. She looked fresh from lovemaking, and his gut clenched in jealousy for only a second before his conscious mind took stock. He took a half-step forward in alarm.

  “Miss Elizabeth. I did not expect you. Is everything well?”

  She nodded, giving him an unreadable look before her gaze skittered away. “Yes. I have come to see my sister.”

  “My goodness, did you walk, Miss Eliza?”

  Darcy did not notice the other woman behind him as she stood and rounded the table, but he did notice how Elizabeth’s lips quirked in amusement at the horror in her voice.

  “I did,” she said. “It is but three miles, if one takes the shortest path. Is Jane still abed? May I be brought to her?”

  “Of course,” Miss Bingley crooned. “How, er, lovely for you to come all this way. Here, I shall take you to her at once.”

  Darcy bowed, and the women left. He watched them leave, and could not help but notice how attractive her figure was beneath her plain, economical dress. One did not need frippery and finery to be found beautiful, which was something many women of Darcy’s acquaintance could stand to learn.

  His thoughts turned to his rising excitement. The woman was two steps ahead of him. He shouldn’t be so surprised. This would be the perfect setting to further explore one another.

  To think: me, enchanted by a country beauty!

  Miss Bingley returned after a few minutes without Elizabeth. “Joy,” she said to Mrs. Hurst as she resumed her seat. “The Bennets are invading.”

  “The mother will be here next,” Mrs. Hurst said with a titter. “Perhaps we shall just send out an invitation so we won’t be surprised when they set up a tent on the front steps!”

  A few hours later, Darcy found Elizabeth stepping out of Jane’s guest room and quietly pulling the door closed. Seeing him, she gave him a smile, but it was half-worried.

  “How is she?”

  “She is not as well as I hoped,” Elizabeth said. “I was just going to find Mr. Bingley and ask if he will permit us to infringe upon his hospitality a little longer and also allow me to stay to help nurse her back to health. I fear she is low indeed and the apothecary has left instructions for a draft every four hours.”

  Concern rose, but of course her worry arose more from Jane being away from home rather than because of her illness itself. “I will take you to him now. He is outside directing the stablemen.”

  Darcy, however, did not at once take her to the stairs. Instead, he took a step forward, inhaling the sweet scent of his lover. “Ensure you let me know which room Bingley arranges for you.”

  Elizabeth’s
eyes widened. But it was not lust that filled them, as usual, but of shock and anger.

  “I came here for Jane’s well-being and nothing more.”

  “It is a cold, according to the apothecary.”

  Anger flared in her eyes. “It would not matter if it was a paper cut, Mr. Darcy! Would you abandon your sister in a strange house in her hour of need for a lover—”

  “Lower your voice,” he whispered. “Besides, she is hardly upon her deathbed!”

  She blew out a breath, her lip curled as she looked up at him. Without a further word, she slipped around him and headed for the stairs, her back stiff with pride and fury.

  Darcy stalked away in a foul mood. It was not as if he suggested making love on the end of Jane’s mattress! She could not call it abandonment if Jane was asleep! Huffing, he went to his rooms, and at dinner that night he hardly spoke a word and did not linger after dinner after Elizabeth left for her sister’s side.

  The next morning, he still pondered the strange situation and Elizabeth’s attitude. Could he not offer comfort to Elizabeth during this time? Take her mind away from her sister’s condition? She treated his question as if he had suggested they undress on the front lawn! It was hardly fair in Darcy’s eyes, especially when Jane operated under a mere cold.

  He walked in the gardens, staying away from the oppressive attitude in the breakfast room that would enter with Miss Bingley’s arrival. Gravel crunched under his feet and he did not take in the clean cut hedges or the height of the topiary. Instead, he focused on the irritation curling in his stomach.

  Of course, he would not abandon his sister if she were grievously ill. But Jane must be a hypochondriac to the extreme to require constant care and supervision because of a measly cold.

  Behind him, he heard the telltale sound of someone approaching. He muttered. Miss Bingley did not have much to occupy her time other than bothering Darcy. He only wondered that she would be up so early. He kept walking, pretending not to hear.

  “Mr. Darcy?”

  Darcy turned, his brows rising. “Miss Elizabeth.”

  “I saw you out the window and wanted to speak to you. Is that all right?”

  “Very well,” said Darcy. Wary, he kept his voice cool, and watched with narrowed eyes as she closed the gap between them. He had not expected her to seek him out. She wore a becoming brown dress, something his hateful eyes noticed at once.

  “I wanted to apologize for how I acted yesterday afternoon. I didn’t intend to be rude, I only…” She bit her lip, looking away from him. It was tempting to pull her closer, wipe away the confusion in her eyes, but despite what she thought Darcy had a sense of decorum.

  “Yes?” he prompted when she remained silent for too long.

  She sighed and tilted her chin to meet his gaze. “Jane is not only my sister, but my closest friend. Her current position is my fault. If I had been there yesterday when the invitation came, I could have prevented this situation.”

  Darcy raised one eyebrow in disbelief. “You cannot possibly bear the responsibility.”

  “I can,” she said, and her voice was so earnest he straightened. “I can. If I had been there, I could have convinced my parents to send her in the coach, or to go along with her so it forced them to send us in the coach—”

  “The invitation was for your sister,” he pointed out.

  She glared. “I guarantee they would have sent us together, considering my mother’s plans for you.”

  He blushed and did not pursue the subject any further.

  “I have heard it from both of my parents that they would have sent the coach had I been along to join her. Had I thought of something other than myself. That is why this affair between us must end.”

  Darcy’s stomach dropped. “What?”

  Elizabeth paced away from him, gesticulating in front of her wildly as she listed her reasoning. “Not once have I thought of my family, of their hopes and fears for me, or of their love which I have violated by betraying the principles they instilled in me. This incident has only brought home what they are worth, and my actions lately have only served selfish desires not worthy of me.”

  Darcy moved into Elizabeth’s path, forcing her to stop and finally look up at him. Guilt shone in her gaze, guilt and enough reluctance it gave him hope that all was not lost.

  “Kitten,” he murmured, watching her lips part in a gesture so innocent it made his blood boil for reasons other than irritation. He reached out, lightly sliding his hand down her arms until his hands encircled her wrists. Delicate and small, he held her loosely as one would a nervous filly. “You are right. I should not have approached you while you tended to your sister.”

  “Go-good,” she whispered.

  “But…” He stepped closer, bringing her hands up to his chest. Her dark eyelashes fluttered and he could hear her breath catch in her throat. He dipped his head lower, brushing his lips across hers, pressure as light as the wind tugging playfully at the ends of his hair.

  “Something meant us to find each other,” he murmured. “We were meant to meet that night in town and meant to meet again in the assembly room in Meryton. Let me remind you...”

  She let him. Let him deepen the kiss there in the garden with the birds singing overhead and the wind dancing around them. Her hands dug into his jacket and she tasted like grapes and freedom. Freedom from responsibility, from memory, from always being the center of attention, good or bad, in any room. He did not have to be anything for her. Only himself.

  “Let me show you why we were meant for each other,” he said, his hand dropping to the curve of her hip. “How hot the fire is that I can ignite within you...”

  Then she pushed him away, shoved at him with her weak strength and surprised him enough for him to release her. She glared up at him, but it was not anger in her eyes. Guilt and desperation swam there.

  “Stop it,” she whispered. “Please, respect my decision-making abilities. I am not some poor creature overrun by my passions.”

  He was becoming tired of seeing her back. He followed her with his eyes as she walked away, this time hunched as if fighting a heavy wind. What had he done wrong?

  The two eldest Bennet sisters remained in Netherfield for the rest of the week. Despite how often he attempted to throw himself into Elizabeth’s path, she always managed to be in company when she met him.

  Even at night. Once he had found out which room Bingley had arranged for her, he snuck there as soon as the rest of the house was abed. He slipped through the corridors and knocked on the door. When there was no answer, he turned the knob.

  There Elizabeth’s trunk sat, at the foot of the bed. But Elizabeth was not innocently asleep within the giant four poster.

  Darcy stood there, and the realization finally hit him. She was resolute. She would have nothing to do with him again, except in the way a woman might nod to an acquaintance. Her touch, her kiss, her moans, and her seductive laugh… gone. She had torn them away without a second thought.

  My actions lately have only served selfish desires not worthy of me.

  What of Darcy? What of his wants, his needs? Was their relationship not worth closure? Would she throw away all that they had because of a fear that her parents would find out?

  Silly woman, he thought as he strode back to his room, all thoughts of secrecy behind him. Did she think she could be rid of him so easily? She had given him a precious gift—her maidenhead, her innocence, her passion—and then run from him? Had she thought he had forgotten?

  Elizabeth, his kitten, had wrapped Darcy up in her ribbon. If she thought to take scissors to it now… she was far, far too late.

  While he was still in Netherfield, he had a chance. He did not imagine the emotion in her eyes. Lust, attraction, the same pull that had brought them together. That would bring them together again.

  He had a string… and he would need to make it dance to bring his kitten back to him.

  To be continued in Part Two…

  Also by Emma East<
br />
  The Seduction Series

  A walk in the woods while her sister is abed in Netherfield leads to Elizabeth uncovering a shocking secret about the tight-lipped Mr. Darcy… and reveal desires of her own that perhaps Mr. Darcy can quench.

  But can her independent spirit handle a possessive suitor? Especially when that suitor can be very persuasive indeed…

  A completed series, click the book cover below to begin your journey into the seductions of Darcy and Elizabeth.