Truth about Mr. Darcy (11 page)

Elizabeth swallowed hard at this declaration but found her voice again quickly. “Ah, such foresight, sir, but it seems you have forgotten you will have to return eventually to your own chamber before morning. So how, pray, do you propose you will manage that feat without calling attention to our current, scandalous situation?”

“That, my love, is simple.” He directed her attention to a door she had not noticed, next to the chaise. “Our rooms are adjoined. I need only open that door to return to my own apartment quite undetected.”

Her mouth formed a silent “O,” and her eyes widened.

“Yes, it is most convenient.” He took a deep, steady breath and, with a small smile, trailed his hands down the length of her arms.

Elizabeth closed her eyes and sighed. “I am surprised Mr. Bingley and my sister approved of such an arrangement. You must admit it is highly improper.”

“Yes,” he murmured, “highly improper. If I am not mistaken though, your sister is quite unaware of the close proximity of our chambers. Bingley, on the other hand, would very much like to believe the orchestration of this arrangement to have been an oversight by a careless servant.”

“I see,” she whispered, her pulse quickening. “Yet, it was not an oversight, was it?”

“No,” he agreed, “it most definitely was not.”

They stood in silence for some time, the eyes of each searching the depths of the other, before Darcy spoke again. “Truly, I intended this only for the purpose of slipping into your room undetected to provide comfort to you should you be in need of it, but, forgive me, Elizabeth, once I laid my eyes upon you as you slept so peacefully, I could not bring myself to leave you. I know it was very wrong of me, and indeed, I have no excuse to offer you for my behavior other than a sincere, heartfelt concern for what I know you to have suffered.”

Elizabeth stared at him, her eyes sparkling in the waning light of the fire. She reached out to him then, placing her hands upon his chest. Darcy swallowed, his throat suddenly parched as he forced himself to say, “I believe the time has come for me to return to my own rooms. If you are truly feeling better, my love, I would not wish to put your reputation at risk any more than I already have.”

He placed a chaste kiss upon her forehead and made to leave, but was stopped by Elizabeth as she laid her hands upon his arm. “You do bring me comfort,” she whispered. “Please do not go. Stay with me. No one need ever learn of it.”

Darcy could hardly believe what he was hearing and so closed his eyes, willing himself to remain in control of his senses. Elizabeth’s fingers had begun to move over his chest in the most exquisite manner, robbing him of all coherent thought. He took several deep breaths before finally managing to summon the strength required to remove her hands from his body. She gave him a puzzled look as he released her and took a step backward. “I cannot. You know I cannot.”

She was hurt; he could read as much in her expressive eyes. “You do not wish to lie with me, then?” she inquired, her voice pained.

“No,” he said hoarsely. “It is because I want nothing more right now than to lie with you that leads me to refuse you. Surely you are not so naïve as to believe you would awaken in the morning a maiden still if I were to lie with you tonight? My self-control when I am with you, and especially at this moment, I am afraid, is sadly lacking. I cannot consent to such a thing, my love. Not before you are truly my wife.”

Elizabeth raised her eyes. “My own self-possession, I fear, where you are concerned, also leaves something to be desired. So as you can see, sir, I believe it is a hopeless case.”

“Elizabeth,” he whispered, “you know not what you say. It is not right. You should be my wife.”

“Then make me your wife, Fitzwilliam. Make me your wife tonight.”

Darcy silently stared at her for some time, struggling against the overwhelming urge to surrender his body and soul to the intoxicating woman before him. His heart was already in her possession; it had been so for many months now, from almost the very first moment he had laid his eyes on her.

Elizabeth was gazing up at him, an unmistakable look of love in her eyes, and Darcy felt a searing pang of longing shoot through his breast. Suddenly, such temptation, when presented to him in the irresistible form of the woman he not only loved, but desired above any other, was simply too much. With a shaky breath, he indulged one of his favorite fantasies—that of entwining his hands possessively within her hair.

Elizabeth ran her tongue over her parched lips and quivered in anticipation, unable to deny the desire pulsing through her veins.

“My Elizabeth, I love you so,” he whispered, his voice hoarse. “Are you certain, absolutely certain, this is what you truly wish?”

Elizabeth nodded, her eyes never leaving his, and Darcy pressed his body against her own and claimed her lips in a kiss that conveyed the depth of his desire. He deepened the kiss, and Elizabeth parted her lips, welcoming his tongue as it explored her mouth. His hands disengaged her curls to roam freely over her curves, tantalizing her body with firm strokes, his fingers pausing only to loosen the bodice of her night shift before resuming their previous ministrations.

Elizabeth was utterly lost to everything around her save for the man before her, and seemingly without warning, the thin fabric of her shift slid from her shoulders and down to the floor in a cascade of creamy silk, exposing her breasts and hips to his adept touch. It left her gasping as the chill of the room and Darcy’s skilled hands assaulted her bare flesh.

He withdrew just far enough to allow his gaze to devour the vision before him. Elizabeth’s mouth was parted in anticipation of his kisses, her full breasts with their pert nipples heaving, her hips—he dared not think of her hips—so smooth and inviting, waiting for him to draw forth all the undeniable passion burning within her. In the wake of his increasing ardor, Darcy struggled to regain his senses and, so softly he could barely hear his own words, murmured, “My dearest love, you are exquisite beyond my wildest dreams.”

Elizabeth slowly opened her eyes. She had always imagined being completely unclothed before a man would have been, at the very least, disconcerting, to say nothing of embarrassing, but on this night with Darcy, she found it surprisingly natural, utterly pleasurable. His ragged breathing felt hot against the side of her face as he stared at her with a smoldering look in his eyes that she returned with equal emotion. Elizabeth encircled his neck with her arms, burying her fingers in his tousled hair and, standing on the tips of her toes, teased the exposed skin of his neck with her lips and the velvet of her tongue.

A groan rose from the back of his throat, and she felt him shiver as she pressed her naked body against his solid, clothed form. He recaptured her mouth in an urgent kiss, holding her against him with one hand as the other slid along the curve of her spine and around the swell of her hip to insinuate itself between her thighs in the most intimate of caresses. It took her by surprise, and Elizabeth found her senses overwrought by an entirely new sensation. As the tension within her continued to build, her knees weakened, and she found herself moaning her pleasure against his lips.

Darcy could hardly contain his desire as he held her. She was beyond magnificent, a woman surrendering herself completely to her desires, a willing, active participant in his lovemaking. His own arousal was fierce, and he longed to possess her, to bring her to the pinnacle of satisfaction, to make all his dreams a reality. Her breath was coming in fast, shallow pants, and when Elizabeth uttered his name with longing, he begged her for the honor of making her his at last.

She answered him with a smoldering kiss and a breathy “Yes,” and with an inarticulate sound, Darcy lifted the woman he loved in his arms and carried her to the bed, where he made quick work of removing his shirt and breeches before taking his rightful place beside her. Instantly, his lips resumed their ministrations, burning a trail of kisses across her shoulders and neck and the small, sensitive spot behind her ear. All the while, his hands explored her curves in the most insistent manner.

He moved lower, running his wet tongue over her breasts until she could stand it no longer and, with the gentlest touch, barely grazed her nipple with his teeth. Elizabeth cried out as delicious sensations traveled throughout her body.

In an effort to silence her, Darcy returned his mouth to hers while his hands continued to pleasure her body. He ran his fingers lightly along her breasts, over her ribs, her waist, her hips, her thighs, and when her legs parted to allow him entrance to her most private place, he felt a new surge of desire for her and heard her gasp with pleasure as his fingers slid into her moist folds.

As Darcy began to stroke her most sensitive flesh in small, slow circles, Elizabeth lost all sense of everything else, surrendered herself to his fiery touch, and approached the height of her passion.

Darcy lifted his head to look at her. She was beyond exquisite with her hair strewn across the pillows, her eyes closed, her breathing labored, her back arching as he teased her with his finger. When she began to writhe from the ecstasy of his touch, he took her breast in his mouth and suckled her until she cried out for him, as though she were delirious with desire. At last he felt her release. Her body convulsed as wave upon wave of spasms washed over her.

Darcy’s eyes searched hers. In their liquid depths he saw no fear of what was yet to come—only love, fulfillment, and trust. “My dearest, are you quite certain this is truly what you want?” he asked softly, his voice hoarse, all the while praying her answer would be in the affirmative.

Elizabeth reached out to him. Her voice caught in her throat, and she whispered, “Fitzwilliam, make me yours.”

He placed a lingering kiss on her swollen lips, and as he parted her legs with his own, he was very nearly overcome by his desire for her, his arousal hard and insistent as it strained against her warmth. Darcy entered her with care, his eyes never leaving hers, desperately wishing he could gauge her thoughts and emotions. Elizabeth was gloriously tight, lush, and welcoming, and it took every ounce of inner strength he possessed to remind himself to go slowly, so as not to cause her any undue distress. When he met her resistance, he whispered in a strained voice, “My love, this may be painful, but only for a minute,” and in the next moment he thrust deeply, penetrating her last barrier. A small cry of pain escaped her; it could not be helped. He took a great deal of time to kiss her until he felt her body begin to relax around his.

Darcy wrapped her legs around his hips and began moving with slow, deliberate strokes, feeling the delicious heat quickly building to an almost intolerable pitch. He was overwhelmed with the feelings she inspired in him and could not help but marvel at the wonder of her and the tremendous intensity of their love. His need for her increased almost violently, and his motions accelerated to match his insatiable desire.

Elizabeth soon found her initial discomfort replaced by a hot, tingling sensation at her innermost core, and she began to move her body in time to Darcy’s rhythm until, with one final, deep thrust, he sent them both cresting over the edge of their passion, shuddering in a dizzying crescendo of ultimate pleasure.

They lay spent, their breathing erratic, their bodies glistening with perspiration in the waning light of the fire. At length, fearing his weight had become too much, Darcy withdrew to lie beside Elizabeth, pulling the counterpane around them. It was with great tenderness that his lips lingered over hers as his hand played with her curls. “Are you well, Elizabeth?” His voice was filled with love.

She snuggled against him, relishing the communion they had just shared. “Mmm… very well, Fitzwilliam.”

“I am relieved to hear it.” He kissed her again with feeling and whispered, “I adore you.”

Elizabeth smiled contentedly against his shoulder. “I would hope so, after sharing such a profound intimacy.”

Darcy’s voice filled with emotion. “You know not how long I have dreamt of making you mine. Visions of your beauty have haunted my thoughts for months, but none so breathtaking as the vision now before me. Truly, tonight was a gift beyond any I ever imagined.”

Elizabeth allowed her fingers to caress his chest. “Yes. It was very beautiful. I feel as though I am bound to you for all eternity.”

“And I to you, though you must realize my love for you already bound me to you months ago. But I agree. We have become even more, so much more. Nothing can ever tear you from me now, my sweetest Elizabeth.” Their lips met again as they held each other close, their bodies eager to repeat the intricate motions of a dance as old as time.

It was not surprising that the next morning Elizabeth awoke somewhat later than usual. She reached across the bed for Darcy, whom she knew to have spent the entire night in her arms, only to find him now gone. It was just as well, for discovery would only add to their current difficulties. She gazed out the window and saw the storm had not abated during the night, and with a contented smile, she snuggled deeper beneath the counterpane, recalling the many hours she had passed in blissful occupation with Darcy, a deep blush overspreading her cheeks.

Last night Darcy had made love to her with a tenderness that had left Elizabeth in no doubt of the depth of his feelings for her. Indeed, she had found the entire experience to be overwhelmingly intimate, profoundly beautiful, and immeasurably satisfying. Even afterward, as they lay spent in each other’s arms, Darcy’s concern for her comfort and her well-being remained great, as was his concern for the preservation of her reputation.

Without bothering to dress himself, Darcy had taken his discarded cravat and, walking to the washbasin, dipped it in the clean water. He then returned to her and, gently spreading her legs, had proceeded to cleanse all evidence of her maiden blood from her body, using the coolness of the water to soothe any physical discomfort she may have experienced. He had then checked the condition of the bed linens and, thanking the heavens there seemed to be no sign of a stain, tossed his soiled cravat onto the fire and returned to her. When she had questioned the necessity of such actions, he had explained he did not wish to leave any evidence behind to give one of the maids any cause, either for alarm or for gossip. Grateful for his solicitation, as well as his reassuring presence, Elizabeth had very soon drifted off to sleep, enveloped in his arms.

With a sigh and a strong desire to see Darcy, Elizabeth threw back the counterpane and rose, dressing herself in her discarded shift. She then rang for a maid and ordered her bath. She had just laid aside her wet towel and had wrapped a robe around herself when she heard a soft knock upon the door to her chamber.

“Lizzy?” Jane’s concerned voice called to her from the other side. Elizabeth bid her enter, and she soon saw her sister was carrying a fresh gown for her, most likely on loan from either Miss Bingley or Mrs. Hurst. She held it up and wondered how she would ever manage to fit into it, for Miss Bingley was rather taller than she and both ladies significantly less endowed.

“You look tired, Lizzy. I hope you have not slept ill.”

“No, not at all. I am fine, Jane. I am only a little distracted this morning; that is all.”

“I cannot say I am surprised to hear it. Oh, Lizzy, would but Mr. Collins had only minded his own business and never concerned himself with your affairs with Mr. Darcy. He cannot know what pain he gives us.”

“I beg your pardon, Jane,” she said with some distaste, “but I believe he knows precisely what he is about. Has it never occurred to you that in the wake of his disappointment, our cousin may harbor some degree of resentment toward me for having refused his suit? And, of course, he would be indignant on behalf of Lady Catherine and her daughter. Mr. Darcy is her favorite nephew, and I have accepted him, so it should only follow he should also suffer for having succeeded where Mr. Collins, himself, has failed.”

Jane was thoughtful for a moment. “I confess I had not considered that.”

“No, of course you did not. It is not in your nature to entertain such unscrupulous possibilities. You are far too good, Jane. I envy you your faith in the world.” They joined hands and sat companionably upon the bed for some time.

“Truly, you look pale, Lizzy. Are you certain you are well? You were not at all yourself yesterday.”

“I assure you, I am recovered enough now from the initial shock of Charlotte’s intelligence. Please do not worry yourself over me. My concern now is not so much for myself but for the rest of our family. You and I have had the good fortune to have made prudent matches with respectable gentlemen who happen to value and esteem us, but Mary, Kitty, and Lydia have yet to find husbands. I cannot help berating myself for acting so carelessly. I should have anticipated the very great possibility Mr. Darcy and I could easily have been discovered in a moment of… vulnerability. That it was Mr. Collins who came upon us only makes it all the more wretched.”

Jane hesitated. “Then it is true? You have permitted Mr. Darcy to take liberties with you?”

Elizabeth found it difficult to repress a mischievous smile at her sister’s unease. “Yes, I am afraid Charlotte’s report is accurate, in
that
respect at least. But please do not misunderstand me, Jane. It is not my intimacy with Mr. Darcy I regret, for I can never have any lamentation on that score. My only remorse stems from our unguarded behavior in a fairly public setting. We gave very little thought to any repercussions from our actions and even less to the possibility of discovery. I am afraid we have both been rather irresponsible.”
If she only knew of what took place last night!

A blush spread across both their cheeks, and Jane asked in a whisper, “Was it
very
intimate, what you and Mr. Darcy shared? Was it… more than kissing?”

Elizabeth averted her eyes, unsure of what she should relate—certainly not their lovemaking from the previous night. “I… it was more, yes. To be honest, much more.” She dared a glance at Jane. “Are you terribly shocked?”

“No, not
terribly
, I suppose. I always suspected with your liveliness and your passion for life, you might
be
inclined to act far more impetuously than I ever could, Lizzy. Oh dear! Please, forgive me. I certainly did not mean to imply such a thing!”

Elizabeth only laughed. “Jane, please. You have said nothing at all that has caused me any offense. You are correct, though. I have never been, with regard to many matters, as conventional and reserved as our parents could have wished, nor so concerned with following the dictates of proper propriety as you undoubtedly are, especially where Mr. Darcy is concerned. As a matter of fact, my behavior, if you were aware of the half of it,
would
certainly shock you. Yet, still, I cannot bring myself to repent any of it. In fact, I would happily repeat it many times over. There. That, I am sure, must certainly succeed in shocking you.”

“Oh, Lizzy, it is not what I think nor what anyone else thinks that truly matters, but what you believe. Surely, if Mr. Darcy does not object to receiving your affections, then what business is it of the rest of the world? So dear as you are to me, you must know I would never judge you in such a manner. We are, both of us, very different in our own ways, yet in some ways we are similar.”

Elizabeth was surprised. “Jane, do you mean to tell me you have allowed Mr. Bingley to take liberties with you?” she teased.

Jane looked down and examined her lap. “Not
so many
, Lizzy. We have held hands, and I have allowed him to kiss me. On several occasions in particular, his kisses were very…
expressive
. If Mr. Darcy’s kisses are half so pleasant as Charles’s kisses are, then I can certainly comprehend how it could easily lead to greater acts of intimacy between the two of you.”

After such a bold declaration, Jane could not help blushing profusely, now more than eager to change the subject. “Enough. Now I will help you to dress, or you shall miss breakfast as well as supper.” As she assisted Elizabeth with her toilette, however, she fixed her with a sly look. “I am sure Mr. Darcy is quite anxious to see you, Lizzy. I do believe he would have come himself to inquire after you this morning if it had not been at all improper.”

Elizabeth only smiled as Jane fastened the buttons on her gown.

***

Darcy slipped his arms around Elizabeth’s waist and pulled her into a sitting room just outside the breakfast parlor. “Forgive my boldness, Miss Bennet,” he whispered as he kissed her neck, “but it has been my observation that Caroline Bingley has never managed to look half so fetching while wearing this gown.”

“Well then, sir, I shall take that as a compliment, although I cannot say I am at all comfortable wearing it in company.” Indeed, her décolletage was extremely revealing.

He looked at her then with some degree of concern. “Are you…uncomfortable in any other way, Elizabeth? Last night… was I too rough with you, my love?”

Elizabeth gazed into his troubled eyes. She gave him a small, reassuring smile and shook her head, her curls bobbing. “Not at all, Fitzwilliam. I feel only some minor soreness from all the…
exercise
we engaged in last night. Aside from that, and being a little tired, I am fine; as for being too rough with me, I can assure you, sir, that was not the case, far from it. You were all that was gentle and considerate.”

Darcy sighed. “I am thankful to hear it.” He then looked away and, in a worried voice, said, “Are you… that is to say… do you at all…” He took a deep breath and exhaled slowly before finally saying, “Elizabeth, my love, do you now regret that we have anticipated our vows? Does it trouble you that you will no longer come to my bed as an innocent on our wedding night?” His agitation was extreme.

Elizabeth reached out and, caressing his jaw, said, “Indeed, I have
no
regrets. I love you, Fitzwilliam, and I cannot but treasure this new-found intimacy between us just as I treasure you—with my whole heart. The only regret I have is that you may, very soon after we are married, in fact, find me shirking my duties as the mistress of Pemberley in favor of the far more pleasurable duties I now know I will have when I am your wife.”

“Elizabeth,” he whispered, his eyes flaring as his gaze drifted from her lips to settle upon her ample bosom.

Seeing as they were in a public room, however, Elizabeth felt it best to keep their physical interaction somewhat more chaste. In an attempt to divert his present musings, she laughed quietly and said, “May I dare to hope, sir, that there will be very little chance of my appearing in a gown such as this one once I become the mistress of your great estate? I doubt very much you would wish for your wife to appear in society wearing such a garish creation!” Her teasing, however, had precisely the opposite effect.

Pressing her body more firmly against his, Darcy muttered, “Certainly not. However, I should have imagined you to be filled with nothing but gratitude today for having been spared the necessity of donning one of those dreadful orange horrors Miss Bingley seems to favor. Heaven knows she must have dozens at her disposal… though, I must confess, you would, no doubt, lend even the most unappealing garment in her wardrobe an air of complete allurement.” With a rakish look, he lowered his head to allow his lips to graze the enticing swell of her breasts as his thumbs caressed her nipples through the fabric.

“Fitzwilliam, not
here
!” She pushed him away with an arch smile. Caroline Bingley’s disdainful voice could be heard with relative ease as she abused one of the servants over the sparse selection of fruit on the sideboard.

“If not here, then where?” he whispered. “Elizabeth, take pity on me. You cannot expect me to conduct myself as a gentleman when you appear to such… advantage in this insidious dress.” His lips claimed hers with a ferocity that caught her off guard while his hands roamed along her curves in the most intoxicating manner. When Darcy finally released her, he rested his forehead against hers and said, “Truly, I have no idea how I will ever survive this engagement after making love to you last night. I fear I will never be able to sleep again without you in my arms.”

“Mmm… nor I,” she murmured as she stroked his cheek. “When I awoke this morning, I was disappointed to find you gone, though I know I should not have been surprised. I realize the risk we took and how dangerous it would have been to be found together in such a compromising situation.”

“It is perhaps more dangerous than we have considered. It has occurred to me there could be consequences from last night, Elizabeth, and perhaps from tonight, as well, should this storm continue as it does.” He gave her a deep, penetrating look that caused her eyes to widen and her breath to quicken.

“I have been thinking that, perhaps, I should ride to London as soon as the weather clears to procure a special license, that is, if it is acceptable to you. I feel it would be for the best if we were to marry as soon as possible… for obvious reasons, though I cannot say I am anticipating the conversation I shall be forced to have with your father on this subject.”

A blush heated Elizabeth’s cheeks, and she looked away. “No, I would imagine not. He will not be pleased.”

“And I cannot say I would blame him. I would not be inclined to look favorably upon any man who came to me to suggest such a thing in Georgiana’s case.” Darcy could not stop himself from exploring the low neckline of her gown with the tips of his fingers.

Elizabeth made a fair attempt to ignore him as she felt herself moved to confess certain concerns that had been preying upon her conscience. “What about my cousin? Our marrying so soon after becoming engaged will, no doubt, be seen as nothing short of scandalous, and it can only serve to help him carry his point with your aunt, as well, not to mention any gossips who may happen to hear the tales of our prior indiscretions.” She found it difficult to conceal her bitter resentment toward the clergyman and his officious interference.

“And then there is the question of your sister. She will come out soon, and I would not wish to have society judge her unfairly based upon our sins any more than my own dear sisters. It pains me to think I may have brought such an injury upon her—I, whom she has never before so much as seen. Nor do I wish for the first report of me to reach her ears to be of my wanton behavior with her beloved brother. Whatever will she think of me, Fitzwilliam?”

“You underestimate Georgiana, Elizabeth; and me, for that matter. Do you imagine that I have never written of you to my sister, nor enumerated your merits and charms in nearly every letter I have addressed to her since my first entering Hertfordshire? Do you believe her ignorant of my initial struggles and my utter elation upon your acceptance of my suit? Dearest, she knows all—or she very soon will—most particularly that we are to be husband and wife and that I love you unreservedly. Though I confess I would far prefer to shield her from any rumors of our unrestrained behavior, I am certain Georgiana will take any idle talk at face value and be willing to overlook the fact that we may have been rather more expressive in our affections because I love you so very dearly and cannot do without you. Both she and I have been alone for so long, with only each other. Please trust me when I say Georgiana will feel nothing but joy for our union and very soon grow to love you as a sister.”