Nights With Fitzwilliam Darcy

by Sophia Grace

  He pushed away from the wall and made his way downstairs. He would stand with Caroline and Charles to receive them. Afterward, he would ask Elizabeth for the first two dances. He should have visited them to secure her ahead of time, but Hurst had them out shooting every day and there simply was not time for it even though his heart lingered miles away at Longbourn.

  Darcy stepped right next to Bingley just as his friends welcomed Mr. Bennet. He bowed and shook the older gentleman’s hand, greeted Mrs. Bennet with a forced smile and waited for Elizabeth. A servant helped her remove her cloak and he was once again awe-struck at her beauty. Small white flowers dotted her hair and the small curls bounced at the back of her head when she curtsied to Miss Bingley.

  Everything in him was drawn to her. He watched as she moved down the line and though she greeted everyone with civility, there was a coolness in her manner. A lack of feeling that sent shivers up his spine. More than once he had been on the receiving end of a sharp look from Elizabeth, but this was far different from that. She looked almost complacent. When she finally got to him and curtsied without looking at him, he wanted to reach out and shake her. It was as if she was a copy of the woman he had grown to love.

  “Miss Bennet,” he could not stop himself from addressing her. “Are you well?”

  She blinked and her eyes focused on his. “Of course,” she said, her smile lingering on her face for half a second before it fell off and she continued as she had before.

  Straightening her skirts, she walked away and he followed her. He had come down here on a mission and he would not give it up now. “Miss Bennet?”

  She stopped, her eyebrows raising. “Hmm?” She shook her head. “I mean, yes, Mr. Darcy?”

  He swallowed, his throat suddenly thick with emotion. He glanced around him and made sure no one was close enough to hear their exchange. Seeing that it was clear, he asked, “Would you do me the honor of dancing the first two with me, Miss Bennet?”

  A flicker of confusion and then hardness swept over her gaze like a riptide of emotions. She bowed her head. “I am honored by your invitation, however, I am already engaged for the first two.”

  Her voice caught on the word engaged. His stomach plummeted, feeling the weight of it heavy in his shoes. He thought she might refuse him, but not because she was engaged to another. He could not hide the disappointment from his reply. “Oh, of course. Another dance then.”

  She smiled without the emotion behind it, complete opposite of the warring thoughts in his head. Who had secured her hand before he did? Jealousy coursed through him, causing the tiny hairs on his arms to stand at attention.

  The elder Miss Bennets’ looks were well-spoken of around Meryton. That Elizabeth would have another admirer was not unlikely, but that did not mean he had to like it. He searched the ball room as if the gentleman would make himself known. He may even go up to him and tell him to stand down. Darcy could be quite intimidating if he needed to be and this was an occasion that would call for it.

  The high-pitched whining of Mrs. Bennet’s voice rang out. She called after his friend, the Bennet’s cousin in tow. Darcy moved closer as Mrs. Bennet gestured toward Mr. Collins several times, a grin on both their faces, but for some reason, Mrs. Bennet felt the need to whisper what she told him and he was just out of ear shot.

  Moving to just behind Bingley, he caught the last part of the conversation. “Would you mind then, Mr. Bingley, if Mr. Collins announced his engagement to Lizzy during dinner?”

  Air leaked from Mr. Darcy’s lungs and out from his mouth as if someone had punched him. Surely, he had not heard right. But he had. Just this moment his friend was trying to mask his surprise while also congratulating the sorry excuse for a gentleman and giving his permission to make the announcement that would kill Mr. Darcy all at the same time. No wonder Elizabeth was engaged for the first two dances. She was engaged in marriage too.

  Why would she do this? Surely, she was her cousin’s superior in every single way. He need not mention looks and sense though they were the most obvious. What could have possibly made this come about? It certainly was not even feasible.

  He spun on his heels and searched the room. He would find Elizabeth at once and make her tell him what was happening. Why would she pledge herself to a man who was her inferior in every single respect?

  His steps thudded against the wood as he moved into the room bustling with people. He searched for Miss Bennet’s cream colored gown with lace trim, her fire eyes, her beautiful hair. What he found was Miss Bennet leaning against a wall near an open doorway, her countenance just as unfeeling as when she first walked in. His heart reached out to her. This could not possibly be her decision.

  With renewed vigor, his steps quickened until he was in front of her. She looked up at him, a hint of surprise crossing her face.

  He surely could not talk to her with all these people milling around. He grabbed her hand and pulled her toward the doorway. “You are coming with me.”

  He pulled her out into the hall, his touch singing at the feel of his skin on hers even while his mind wrestled with what exactly he was going to say to change her mind. Or to save her. He did not know, but he would not let the evening go by without staking his claim on Miss Elizabeth Bennet.

  Chapter 3

  Mr. Darcy pushed Elizabeth into an empty sitting room. At least, it felt like a push to her because she had given up feeling, therefore other’s emotions seemed overwhelming to her in her present state. She turned on him, waiting for him to say something. In the low candlelight, he looked fierce, angrier than she had ever seen him before and she believed she had made him mad before on several occasions. This was far worse however.

  “What is it that you think you are doing?”

  Elizabeth blinked. “Excuse me?”

  He closed his eyes and when they reopened, they were softer. His brown eyes tinted to honey instead of a muddy creek. “I just heard your mother say you are to be married to your cousin, Mr. Collins. I do not understand how this can be. Surely, she is not lying, but I need to hear it from you. Are you engaged to him?”

  Elizabeth nodded. What else could she do? A small part of herself wanted to rear back and forcibly deny him. She knew it shouldn’t be so, but it was.

  His face blanched. “Why?”

  The single word. The single question whose answer was the reason for everything. How to relate it to Mr. Darcy though? He already felt her family inferior. What if he related what she said to Mr. Bingley and ruined Jane’s chances? Then again, what did she care? Her life was already not hers. “Mr. Collins proposed to me earlier today. I denied him, but my father has made me see that I should reconsider. After doing so, his offer was accepted and they want to announce the engagement tonight.”

  Mr. Darcy paced in front of her. She knew they should not be alone together, especially since she was practically betrothed to another man, but she could not bring it within herself to care.

  Darcy passed his thumb over his lip. “I did not think your father as bad as this. I still do not understand why, Miss Bennet. Why should you reconsider after you already refused him?”

  Elizabeth’s mouth moved without her really thinking. “Mr. Collins is to inherit Longbourn. I confess I do not know the whole of it, but my father has said that I need to marry him to secure it. I believe he has gotten us into some financial trouble and this is how we shall pull ourselves up.”

  Who cares if she told him everything? Soon, she would leave for Kent and never have to see any of these people again.

  A sudden pang hit her. One that she had tried to keep concealed throughout the day as she resigned herself to her future life.

  “Miss Bennet…”

  Elizabeth looked up. Mr. Darcy’s gaze latched on to hers, searching. She tried to look away, but he reached out and held his finger under her chin and tilted it toward his face. “I see through to you. I know your disposition. I have been on the receiving end of your passionate entreaties. This is not you. You do not
sit back, complacent. You think, you feel, you fight.”

  Elizabeth pulled her chin from his grasp. “Then you understand why I cannot do any of those things now. You will understand how I do not want to feel.” Her voice began to rise as the anger spurred in her belly. “You understand then that I cannot think, nor feel, nor fight back against what has already been decided for me. Why would I want to feel when I will have to live with him? Lie with him? Obey him? No.” She shook her head and moved around the small settee. “I will not endure it.”

  “Then don’t.”

  Elizabeth clutched the wood back of the furniture. “And what, Mr. Darcy? Refuse my father’s wishes? Let my family go to ruins when I can prevent it?”

  “At the loss of yourself? Yes, that is exactly what I propose.”

  It was just like him to disagree with her. Had they not been in a similar situation so many times? Of course, this time, she let out her true feelings. She did not feel held back by the reigns of civility. “You do not understand, and of course, you would not. You have the luxury of choosing for yourself. You have the luxury of not needing to support your life. Have you not the fortune to do what you choose, Mr. Darcy? Cannot you see that it is not the same with me?”

  Mr. Darcy’s jaw ticked. His lips thinned as he began to pace again.

  Elizabeth’s anger dissolved into desperation. She wanted someone to understand her. Were not Darcy and she more alike than she would like to admit? They were both stubborn, proud, and had fixed opinions that were not easily swayed? Surely, if anyone could see why she was doing such a thing, it would be him. “Would not you do anything for your family? I believe I heard Miss Bingley speak of your sister before. What if she needed something that meant you had to give up something you wanted? You would do it. I know you would.”

  “That is not the same.”

  “Of course it is. A woman’s sacrifice is just the same as a man’s.”

  “But you are sacrificing your life!”

  “And you would too!”

  Mr. Darcy straightened his jacket in front of him, his chest rising and falling in quick breaths. He sighed, a small victory claiming Elizabeth’s heart. After a moment, he said, “I believe you are right, but not without exploring other options. I would not rest until something else could be figured out. Do not resign yourself until every avenue can be looked into.”

  The first few notes of the violin started and the crushing weight of her duty came back to her. “There is no other option. Mr. Collins has chosen me.” She took a deep breath and forced a smile to her face. “I am wanted on the dance floor now. I shall take my leave of you.”

  Elizabeth rose from her curtsey and walked past Mr. Darcy with her head held high. His passion had stirred something inside her. Maybe even his unwillingness to hear about what she had to do. She felt close to him, as if he had seen something inside her no one else had. She told her father earlier that no one would feel what this would do to her, but perhaps Mr. Darcy could. He would understand it at least. He would know her suffering.

  With one hand on the doorknob, Elizabeth hesitated. She turned around only to find Mr. Darcy striding toward her. “I have another solution.”

  He closed the distance between them with three strides. She did not immediately recognize the look in his eyes, but with his breath hot on her lips, she gasped.

  So this was what it felt like to be wanted…

  She wanted to curl inside the feeling and never leave. She wanted it to succumb her, numb her. In that moment, she wanted nothing more than the handsome Mr. Darcy to give her everything she had ever wanted.

  Chapter 4

  Mr. Darcy’s mouth claimed hers. She fell back against the door as his passion overcame them both. His desire filled her as if stitching together the parts of her that had been torn after she’d chosen duty. A thread here and a thread there, linked, interlocking once more to make Elizabeth whole. Passion rose inside her. Need drove her.

  His mouth moved over hers, pausing every now and then to whisper to her. Her mind so caught up in the feeling of feeling, it was a moment before she listened to what he said. His wet lips glided over her cheek to her earlobe. “I want you for myself and I will not give you up to someone else.”

  “What?” She pushed against him, forcing room to breathe between them. In the few short seconds his mouth had been on hers, she realized everything she would lose if she married Mr. Collins. Surely, he would never kiss her like that. Even more certain, she knew he would never elicit the same feelings deep in her core that Mr. Darcy had. Though she pushed him away, she wanted him near. She wanted him to whisper his love to her, keep his mouth on her body. But at the same time, she wanted to understand it all. Did she dare hope that he cared for her? “What are you saying, Mr. Darcy?”

  His stare scorched her. “It came on so quick I hardly know how to explain myself, Miss Bennet. You must understand how much I admire you. Your mind is too sound not to realize it. You probably knew it sooner than I did and I shall punish myself now for not letting my feelings known sooner. If I had, you may not be in your current situation.” He reached up and touched her cheek.

  The featherlight touch of his fingertips soothed her. Hope surged bright as the sunshine on a clear day. In the next instant, it all came crashing around her, making everything darker than it had been before. Her chest was a hollow hole. “It is of no use, Mr. Darcy.” She choked on her words, grasping at the glimmer of what could be. She did not want to lose it now, but it did not matter. Her fate was already set. “I am already promised to him.”

  Darcy’s throat worked. Despair tinged his eyes.

  How could she do this? How could she leave him here when she could see that everything she had ever wanted was right here in front of her? Tall, dark, handsome, stubborn. She smiled. She was so blind not to see it before. Mr. Darcy was exactly the type of man who would make her happy.

  She swallowed, the bitter taste of regret filling her insides. If she had to ruin the rest of her life, maybe she could have this evening. Maybe she could have this one perfect moment to fuel her, to keep her going when she knew the inevitable would happen and she would have to trudge through life with nothing but despair.

  She lifted to her toes and tasted Mr. Darcy’s lips. She passed hers sweetly over his, mesmerizing the contours, mesmerizing the way they felt on hers. He returned her kiss and again, she tried to sear it into her memory. Perhaps she could live off of this one memory alone. This one instance where her life had been perfect.

  She reached up and tangled her fingers in his hair while deepening the kiss. Mr. Darcy made a sound in the back of his throat, sending shivers down Elizabeth’s spine. He backed her against the door again, his hips coming forward to meet hers at the same time his hand left her waist. She heard the click of the lock setting into place and she sighed.

  She would have it all for one night.

  Mr. Darcy kissed a trail down her neck to her chest. Pulling the fabric of her dress down, he followed the stitch line across her front, dropping kisses that made her knees weak. A fire built between her legs, scorching her insides, spurring her movements on. She reached down the front of Mr. Darcy, her hand landing on her objective. Mr. Darcy stiffened and then groaned. “Elizabeth.”

  Her fingers worked on his buttons until he was set free. She moved his pants down until they fell around his ankles, releasing his hard cock. His chest heaved in front of hers before his hands wound around her back, his fingers moving frantically over her dress, releasing her from her garments.

  Her gown fell to the floor and she stood before him in her thin, white chemise. She thought she would be scared at this moment and perhaps if it was with Mr. Collins, she would have been. But not now. Not when she could live the life she wanted to, even if it was just temporary. “Mr. Darcy, please.”

  He reached for her hand and she readily gave it up. He pulled her to the settee and bid her sit down. He bent over her, his mouth easily drinking her up, sending her into a waterfall of
emotions. He moved lower, following the same trail down her neck to her chest. He pulled her dress down, releasing her breasts. His hot breath hit her nipple and she came up off the seat with a startled cry. Not giving her any time to recover, his lips surrounded the taut nipple and he began to suck and lick until her breath was shallow and raspy. Then, he moved to the other one, giving it the same treatment, emblazoning his mark on her. A wetness seeped from between her legs as he made a last pass with his tongue and then moved downward.

  He kissed her through her chemise, trailing his tongue between her breasts, past her belly button, until he neared dangerously close to the spot hot and sticky with juices Elizabeth had never known about before. He fell to his knees in front of her and lifted her chemise. Sudden nerves struck her. Elizabeth placed her hands on the material, stopping his advances.

  He looked up and smiled. His eyelids were heavy with passion, mirroring her own wants and needs. “Trust me,” he said.

  She nodded, moving her hands to his shoulders as he bent over her. His head nestled between her thighs as nerves once again racked her body. She tried to push him away again, but he was relentless. Her chest heaved in front of her. His hot breath only mixing with the wetness seeping from her. Finally, his tongue lashed out. Elizabeth screamed, “Mr. Darcy.”

  He hummed on her skin in approval, only sending shivers from her pussy to her core and all the way up her spine. She had never known a greater pleasure. His tongue passed over her lips, swirling at the apex until he moved back down again. Elizabeth panted, sinking her fingers deep into his hair. She pulled him closer to her and he renewed his attempts, sinking his tongue deep inside her until she cried out again. “Yes.”

  Darcy pulled on her waist with a grunt. Elizabeth sunk further into the settee as Darcy moved her legs to the tops of his shoulders, his tongue continuing to taste her. Elizabeth looked down, her creamy white breasts raising and lowering with her breaths, and between them, Mr. Darcy’s dark curls displayed prominently between her legs. He looked up, his tongue licking upward until they locked eyes. She gasped at the scene, her limbs tightening, her insides twisting.