To Conquer Mr. Darcy

Five

Darcy stood in the doorway of the room that had been Elizabeth’s during her stay at Netherfield, gazing on her sleeping form, covered only by a revealing nightdress. As he watched, she opened her eyes and saw him, an inviting smile growing on her lovely face. He crossed the room and sat on the bed beside her, tracing his finger down her cheek, and then down her neck and further along her body. When his hand reached her breast, he saw her eyes darken with desire, and she reached up her arms to welcome him. Wordlessly he sank into her arms, capturing her lips with a kiss that demonstrated the depth of his need for her. The feeling of her body beneath his sent his desire spiralling out of control, his hands exploring every intimate inch of her as his mouth devoured hers. He pressed his hips against hers as she writhed beneath him and whispered, “Please, William, make me yours.” Without hesitation he pulled away everything that stood between them and poised himself to plunge into her. She raised her hips to meet him, and with a powerful thrust he took her, glorying in the feeling of his possession of her. As she moaned beneath him with each intensely pleasurable stroke, he thought to himself, ‘Mine, she is mine, she is mine…’

Darcy regretfully surfaced from his dream on the morning of his rendezvous with Elizabeth in a haze of arousal and desire. The responsiveness she had shown to his attentions in the last two days had caused an intensification of his dreams, both sleeping and waking, and his imagination had proved remarkably adept at recalling how it felt to kiss her. Restraint! he cautioned himself. You are incredibly fortunate that she seems inclined to give you what you desire—let her do it in her own time! He dressed with unusual care, whistling all the while, to the bemusement of his manservant, Wilkins. At last satisfied with his appearance, he set off.

Elizabeth, having awoken to the same thoughts and meditations that had at length closed her eyes the previous night, was contemplating the possibility that love was incompatible with a good night’s sleep, a proposition Darcy would have seconded, had he been aware of her opinion. Dreams of a Pemberley that was an even grander and more pretentious version of Rosings were interspersed with confusing sensations of kisses where she felt a longing for something more, but knew not what, leaving her embarrassed by her desires when she finally awoke. She was anxious to see Darcy, yet worried by her wishes and the noticeable softening in her feelings towards him. She reminded herself that it would be difficult to feel unkindly toward a man after the intimacy of crying in his arms, but she could not credit this as responsible for the change.

She felt a certain pleasurable kind of anxiety as she walked out, and wondered how the time with him would go. Her heart skipped a beat when she spotted a dark form ahead in the grove where they had agreed to meet, and she hurried forward until she could see the look of passionate welcome in his eyes.

Accustomed to subdued greetings from Elizabeth, Darcy experienced a burst of pleasure when she smiled on seeing him. God knew he never had a clue as to what she was thinking of him, but surely this had to be a good sign. Advancing toward her, he took both of her hands in his and pressed a kiss on each one. “Good morning, Miss Bennet.”

“Good morning, Mr. Darcy,” she said, with a hint of her impudent smile.

If you keep looking at me like that, my love, I am going to disgrace myself by trying to make my dreams a reality, he thought. “Have you a destination in mind for us today?”

She hesitated a moment before nodding. The place she had in mind was secluded, but he seemed to be in a relatively restrained mood, so she thought it would be safe enough. She led him along little-used footpaths to a small wood, which they skirted briefly before following what appeared to be a deer trail between the trees. As Darcy ducked under low-hanging branches, he wondered if she knew what she was about in taking him to such an isolated spot. Part of him believed that she had not given the matter a thought, but another part insisted on hoping that her desires matched his.

She stopped when they came to a small clearing where a stream ran beneath two large willows. He saw her glance at him as if to gauge his reaction, and wondered if this was a test of some sort. Stepping toward the stream, he parted the boughs of one of the willows to discover a sheltered space, and just beyond it, a grassy bank leading down to the water’s edge. Looking back at her, he said, “This is a lovely hideaway. Did you discover it?” He was gratified to see a pleased smile on her face. Evidently his reaction was satisfactory.

“It is my retreat.”

“Thank you for sharing it with me,” he said softly, noting a look of warmth in her eyes that made his resolutions that much more difficult to keep. In search of a distraction, he noticed the ribbons of her bonnet blowing gently in the wind. Almost without thought he reached over to her and untied them, noticing that she lifted her chin to permit his action. He raised his hands to her temples and gently removed the bonnet. He noted that her hair was looped up in a simpler style than usual. Presumably she had left Longbourn before the servants were available to style it. His fingers itched to discover what it would take to make it come down. Tracing a line down her cheek with his fingers, he was delightfully startled when she turned her face into his hand and kissed it lightly.

Elizabeth found the silence mesmerizing as he looked at her intently, apparently waiting to see what she would do next. How could the simple act of removing my bonnet move me so? she asked herself. Already she had exposed more of herself than made her comfortable by bringing him to a place so special to her, and her present reaction to him only increased her uncomfortable sense of vulnerability. Not trusting herself to speak, she took his hand and led him to the bank of the stream. When she came to the edge where there was a bit of a scramble to reach the water, he held her back while he went ahead, and then lifted her down.

She laughed as she looked up at him, his hands still resting on her waist. “Mr. Darcy, I have managed to do this on my own for many years!”

“Are you trying to deprive me of excuses to hold you?”

With a playful look, she freed herself, and, with the ease of long practice, held up her skirts and began to cross the shallow stream, stepping gingerly from rock to rock. Part way across, she reached down and ran her fingers through the cool water, then, with an impudent smile, flicked her fingers to send a spray of droplets in his direction. At the look of feigned outrage on his face, she continued her journey at a more rapid pace as he set off in pursuit of her, his long legs giving him an advantage outweighing her greater knowledge of the route. Just before she reached the opposite bank, he caught her hand, causing her to reel precariously to keep her balance.

“I believe that I have you at a disadvantage, Miss Bennet,” he said mischievously.

“How so, sir?”

“Why, in that my boots are higher than the water is deep, whereas yours are not,” he said, with a challenge in his eye. Elizabeth, unable to resist, pulled sharply at his hand, causing him to stumble into the water. He continued, “See, I am completely protected. You, on the other hand, have placed yourself at grave risk.”

Laughing, she tried to pull her hand away, but with a firm tug, he caused her to overbalance, then swept her up in his arms before she could fall. “And now, Miss Bennet, I have you at my mercy, since if you try to escape from me, you will certainly end up wet.”

Elizabeth, already feeling completely at his mercy owing to the overwhelming flood of sensation from the way he was holding her, said archly, “And what do you intend to do with me, then, Mr. Darcy?”

He bent his head to trace kisses along her neck, so conveniently available to him in this position, and caressed her leg with the fingers of his hand supporting her knees, causing exquisite feelings of pleasure to run through her. “I am certain that I can think of something,” he murmured as he moved his mouth to capture hers.

“And what will happen if I refuse to cooperate in your nefarious schemes?” she retorted between breathtaking kisses.

“Then it is into the water with you,” he said, making as if to toss her. She shrieked and wrapped her arms tightly around his neck.

“You would not dare!”

“Actually, Miss Bennet,” he said, finding her close embrace to be vastly appealing, “I think that you would look remarkably fetching when wet. Of course, then I would feel obliged to find some way to keep you warm so you would not take a chill, and naturally it would take some time for your clothes to dry, but I am certain that I could think of some way to pass the time…”

“Mr. Darcy!” Elizabeth exclaimed, her cheeks scarlet at his forwardness, but he resumed kissing her with an ardor that left her with no desire to resist him.

“In fact,” he murmured roguishly, “I find the idea so appealing that perhaps I should seek out deeper water to allow greater efficiency.” He started to walk upstream.

“No!” she cried. “I surrender, I surrender!”

“Sweeter words have never been spoken,” he said, kissing her enticingly. “Now, since you are my prisoner, I believe that it is my right to demand a ransom before setting you free.”

Elizabeth’s breath caught at the idea of what he might request, even in jest. “What did you have in mind, sir?” she said, pleased that her voice did not tremble.

Thoughtfully, he allowed his eyes to sweep slowly over her from head to foot, his possessive, examining look sending tingling sensations of excitement throughout her body, then met her eyes with a slight smile on his face. “I demand that you let your hair down,” he told her, a rakish smile playing across his face.

He had chosen well, he thought. It was an intimate request, and it would fulfill one of his favorite fantasies, yet was not overly compromising. He watched the reaction flow across her face until she returned his gaze with a challenging one of her own. “Done, sir,” she said. “Now pray return me safely to dry land.”

“At your service,” he said, fulfilling her request. She immediately scrambled up the bank, and sat in the soft grass at the top. He did not remove his eyes from her for a moment, and when she paused, he added, “I am waiting, Miss Bennet.”

With a look that expressed a certain air of challenge, she reached her hands back and slowly removed several pins from her hair, aware of his fixed gaze through every inch of her body. She shook her head several times, causing a cascade of unruly dark curls to tumble down her back.

He caught his breath at the captivating sight. Surely she would never have done that if she did not intend to accept me, he thought with a rush of pleasure. The combination of the intimacy of her appearance and her provocative gaze stimulated a sense of unreality that allowed him more control over his reaction than he might have expected, but he would have to guard his behavior to retain her trust.

“Well, sir?” she said with a teasing defiance.

“Very satisfactory, Miss Bennet,” he replied. He could be happy indefinitely just looking at her.

“Do you plan to stay down there all day?” she asked.

“Your wish is my command,” he said, climbing the bank to sit by her side. He admired the sight of her hair blowing in the breeze, and longed to run his hands through its enticing richness, but if he began to touch her now, the likelihood was that he would not be able to find the strength of will to stop. He leaned back on his elbows, thus keeping his hands out of harm’s way.

“You are suddenly very quiet, Mr. Darcy,” she said with a raised eyebrow.

He gave her a look that assured her of the content of his thoughts. “Sometimes, Miss Bennet, it is best to admire without comment.”

His reaction had surprised her; she had hardly expected after his earlier forwardness that he would suddenly revert to being the perfect gentleman, and it left her feeling somehow frustrated that he could stimulate such feelings of abandon in her, and then withdraw. She gave him an unconsciously seductive glance, and noted with satisfaction his heightened color. “I hope I have not done anything to offend you.”

“Hardly, Miss Bennet; you are merely testing my self-control, and I believe it wisest to keep my hands to myself at the moment, lest I succumb to overwhelming temptation.” He glanced at her, noting that her amused look verged on repressed laughter. “Are you so heartless as to laugh at my predicament, Miss Bennet?”

“Yes, indeed; why should I not? After all, if I am both ‘heartless’ and an ‘overwhelming temptation,’ you have no one to blame but yourself for starting it,” she teased. Her laughter served to break the tension, and he reached to take her hand. “Oh, no, sir, you must keep your hands to yourself!” she said sportively.

Willing to play her game, he placed his hands on the ground, and leaned over to kiss her, but at the last moment she pulled away. “I refuse to be a temptation, Mr. Darcy!” She looked at him expectantly, wondering how he would respond to her teasing refusals.

“Let me see, then,” he said thoughtfully, his eyes mischievous. “No hands, no kisses; what does that leave me?” Before she could protest, he shifted his position to allow him to rest his head in her lap. He smiled up at her engagingly, causing a delightful ripple of laughter from her. She found this playful, relaxed and flirtatious Darcy quite appealing, if difficult to fit together with the proper and reserved public man. She ran her fingers through his thick hair, then smoothed it away from his face. He closed his eyes in order to better enjoy her ministrations. He looked younger and somehow more vulnerable, and she felt a rush of affection for him.

She held back a sigh, thinking how very confusing her feelings about him were. Which was the real Darcy—was it the man with the perpetually serious mien, or the one who delighted in verbal jousting? Proud and reserved, or shy? Always careful, never violating the proprieties, or lighthearted and forward? Sometimes it seemed that the only thing she could be certain of was what he wanted from her, and sometimes even that seemed to shift. She wondered if he would be content with her eventual acceptance, or whether he would continue to demand more and more of her private self. At times like this, it seemed that all he needed was someone to care about him for himself, not for what he could offer in terms of support or protection. Apart from his cousin, she could think of no one who treated him with affection and as an equal. He had been taking care of other people for so long. Who did he turn to when he needed support? He seemed so independent, needing nothing and no one—except you, a voice inside her said.

A smile curved her lips as she considered the hubris it would require to take on the responsibility of taking care of Fitzwilliam Darcy. Continuing to stroke his hair, she let her eyes trace the lines of his face, wondering at her sanity in allowing herself to love this complex and often difficult man—as if she had allowed herself to love him; the truth was closer to what she had said of him at Hunsford, that she loved him against her will, against her reason, and even against her character. It was certainly poetic justice.

He opened his eyes at that moment, catching the unguarded look of affection on her face. Well, if he was unsure before this how I feel about him, I have just betrayed myself, she thought uneasily. Retreating behind a mask of humor, she said, “I was beginning to wonder if you were asleep, sir, you appeared so comfortable.”

Answering her in kind, he retorted, “And if I had, it would merely be because thoughts of you keep me awake at night.”

She raised her eyebrows. “It seems I have many sins to answer for in your mind!”

“And many more I hope you will commit, as well,” he said softly, wishing that he could see that caring look in her eyes again. Sitting up, he took her face between his hands and kissed her slowly and deeply, and slid his hands gradually back into the depths of her hair, allowing himself to be enveloped in complete sensation. He continued to kiss her until he deemed her ardor the equal of his, then pulled back to look at her. The warmth of desire in her eyes amidst the becoming dishevelment of her appearance left him both aroused and gratified by his ability to give her pleasure.

“You look very pleased with yourself,” Elizabeth teased.

“Oh, I am,” he murmured enticingly. “Almost as pleased as I am with you.” Wrapping his hand in a lock of her hair, he pulled her toward him in such a way that she ended up in his embrace when their lips met again.

The exquisite sensations of delight that coursed through her in response to his touch seemed more than she could bear, and she knew in the deepest fibers of her being just how much she wanted him. His lips began to roam freely, and she gasped in shock and unforeseen pleasure as his hand rose to cup her breast. She could feel the touch of his hand through her entire body, and as she found herself seeking more of it by arching her body against his fingers, she realized how near she was to the point of allowing him anything. Somehow she forced herself to say, “My family will be wondering what has become of me.”

Gently caressing her breast as he let his lips drift downward to the neckline of her gown, he whispered, “Tell them that I was making love to you in a secluded glen.”

In the instant before reality intervened, all she could think of was how much she wished she could allow him to do just that, and it was only her fear of how vulnerable her feelings were to him already that permitted her to remember the reasons why she must not. Even as she was responding to and reciprocating his demands, she said, “Please, sir, I cannot make you stop, but I beg you to do so anyway.”

“It will be weeks before I see you alone again,” he pleaded, hardly knowing what he was saying. She moaned as his thumb drifted across her breast with an intimacy she had never imagined, her need for him growing by the minute.

“Even so,” she whispered, her lips meeting his again and again, until he pulled back and, with an obvious effort to control himself, ran his hands over his face.

It was several minutes until he had the self-possession to speak calmly. “My love, you are a delightful menace to my peace of mind.” He wondered how on earth he could allow her to leave with her aunt and uncle. Standing, he held out a hand to her. “I think that it is past time for us to leave here.” His resolve would fail if they remained there, and his body was demanding with every fiber to discover what further intimacies she would allow him.

“Yes,” she said, smiling lest he think her angered with him. She was grateful for his hand, uncertain of her own strength at that moment. As in the past, she felt oddly weak when he called her ‘my love,’ and this time she was in no position to take exception to his familiarity. “But you will need to give me a moment, sir, or we shall certainly cause talk.” She gathered her hair and twisted it into a more presentable form. He fetched her bonnet as she restored the hairpins to their proper position. She reached her hand out for it, but instead he settled it on her himself, his fingers to lingering on her neck as he tied it in place.

On the return journey they attempted to distract themselves with a lively debate on the relative merits of Coleridge and the newly published Childe Harold’s Pilgrimage of the scandalous Lord Byron, leading Darcy to contemplate the interesting reading material that Mr. Bennet thought fit for a young woman, until they reached the point where they would go their separate ways. Darcy was unsure how far he could trust himself, and limited himself to touching her cheek. “Miss Bennet…”

“Yes?”

He was about to speak when he recalled his promise not to rush her, and he shook his head with an expression of regret. “No, not yet,” he said, as much to himself as to her. “I will see you tomorrow, then, at Longbourn.”

She tried to speak to his uncertainty with her eyes. Surely he must know after today that he has won, she thought. “I shall look forward to it, sir.”

“For the sake of my sanity, I hope that you persuade your aunt and uncle to come to Pemberley.”

“Only time will tell on that,” she said.

“Just remember, Miss Bennet, that I know where the Lambton Inn is, and you already know I am not above kidnapping when it suits my purposes.”

She laughed. “I shall keep that in mind. Until tomorrow, then.”

He kissed her hand lingeringly. “Until then.” He watched as she walked toward Longbourn, not moving from his position until she was long out of sight.

Bingley appeared in the door of the billiard room, where Darcy had retreated after dinner for some much-needed peace and an opportunity to reflect on the events of the day. “Bingley!” his friend exclaimed. “This is the earliest I’ve seen you back from Longbourn in days. Would you care for a game?”

“How could you?” his friend said in a low voice.

“How could I what?” Darcy began to rack the balls.

“I seem to have played the fool here. When you did not want to talk about your interest in Lizzy, I assumed it was because you were not yet sure of your feelings. It never occurred to me, not once, that your motives could be less than honorable,” Bingley said, his voice full of anger and hurt. “She is going to be my sister soon, for God’s sake, Darcy!”

Darcy looked up at him sharply. “Bingley, what are you talking about? Of course my intentions towards Eliz… Miss Bennet are honorable—why would you think anything else?”

“Because I have heard what everyone is saying!”

“And what, pray tell, is that?” Darcy asked with a hint of sarcasm in his voice.

“Every servant here is talking about the compromising situations you have been seen in! By tomorrow, the word will be all over Meryton, if it is not already, and Lizzy’s reputation will be in tatters, thanks to you!”

Darcy rolled his eyes. “Calm yourself, Bingley! I am not denying that we have had… tender moments, but good God, man, the only reason I am here in the first place is to try to convince her to marry me!”

“If that is the case, then why have you not proposed to her?” Bingley demanded.

Gripping the edge of the table tightly, Darcy said in a quiet but dangerous voice, “I have, and she refused me, and I am attempting to convince her to change her mind. If you have any doubts about the value of my word, I suggest that you apply to your future sister, who will confirm this in every particular.”

Bingley seemed to deflate in response to his words. “Really? I mean… everyone is saying that you have no intention of…”

“Bingley, I assure you that I am the only expert on what my intentions are, and if it will reassure you I will promise to make them absolutely and publicly clear tomorrow, although God only knows if Elizabeth will ever forgive me for it. Will that satisfy you?” Darcy spat out the words.

“Darcy, I… I’m sorry… I should not have doubted you, but when I heard what they were saying…”

“Please do not tell me what they said.” He stalked out of the room before he said anything worse.

On reaching his rooms, he threw himself down in a chair and pulled off his cravat. Damn it! he thought. Just when things were going so well. How could I have been such an idiot as to not have been more discreet?

Wilkins emerged from the dressing room. “Good evening, sir. May I be of any assistance?”

Darcy tipped his head back and closed his eyes. “Yes, Wilkins. You can tell me what they are saying down in the kitchens about me.”

“If you wish, sir. There are some wild rumors that you have taken a mistress here, and that you have been found with her in compromising situations on several occasions, and that you will be marrying Miss de Bourgh. I have, of course, stated categorically that this is untrue in its entirety, and apparently one young woman who also works at Longbourn on occasion has also said that she does not believe a word of it.”

Darcy winced. “I assume the young lady in question is Miss Elizabeth Bennet?”

“That would be correct, sir. I have taken the liberty of making some inquiries regarding these rumors, if that is of interest to you, sir.”

Darcy opened his eyes and scrutinized the ever-reliable and discreet Wilkins. “Pray continue,” he said.

“The original report seems to have been that you were seen emerging from the churchyard with Miss Bennet, who was flushed and too close to you. However, there are various embroidered versions of this that are more… compromising.”

Darcy ran his fingers through his hair. So the wildflowers had not been so very private after all. “Wilkins, I applaud your initiative, as ever,” he said tiredly.

Wilkins allowed himself a brief pleased smile. “Thank you, sir. Will there be anything else, sir?”

“Not at the moment, Wilkins,” Darcy said. “No, on second thought, Wilkins, please look in that second drawer there. Yes, that one, on the right. Do you see a small box there?”

“Yes, sir.” He picked up the box and brought it to Darcy.

Darcy waved him back. “No, I do not need it, Wilkins, but I would like you to look in it.” The puzzled Wilkins opened the box. “Now, if you would, please read the engraving inside the ring.”

Wilkins broke into an uncharacteristic broad smile as he obeyed. “May I offer you my congratulations, sir?”

“Not until the lady accepts it,” Darcy said. “However, I wanted to be sure you knew of its existence in case you ever needed to start a rumor of your own.”

“Yes, sir. I understand perfectly. In fact, sir, I was just thinking that you might be getting hungry later, and that this would be a good opportunity for me to stop by the kitchens to bring you a bite to eat.”

“A capital idea, Wilkins.”

Wilkins bowed and left. Darcy dropped his head into his hands. Elizabeth would be furious. He could only hope that the stories had not yet reached Longbourn. Not that this could make any difference in what he needed to do to protect her reputation, but if he could just have a few minutes alone with her to explain why he had to do this, perhaps her anger might be mitigated. But it seemed hardly likely that he would; he would not see her until after the arrival of her aunt and uncle the following day, and then she would be leaving on her journey. Well, there was nothing to be done for it, except to hope for a chance to explain himself. With a deep sigh, he walked over to his writing desk and drew out a sheet of paper.

Mrs. Gardiner’s suspicions had been raised against Elizabeth after receiving her letter, and those suspicions were now compounded by the warning that her niece had given her almost immediately after their arrival at Longbourn regarding the shyness of Miss Darcy and the need to be patient with her. She therefore watched most attentively when the Darcys arrived, and did not miss the small blush on her niece’s cheeks, nor the look in the gentleman’s eyes when they landed on Elizabeth.

Elizabeth made the introductions, and Darcy quickly engaged the Gardiners in a discussion of Derbyshire, Lambton, and their proposed travels. Mrs. Gardiner looked over at her niece, wondering why Lizzy had ever described this polite and unassuming young man as so proud and disagreeable. After some extended conversation, Darcy announced that his sister had a request to make.

All eyes turned to Miss Darcy, who said hesitantly, “Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner, my b… brother and I would be honored if you and Miss Bennet would consent to be our guests at Pemberley for the d… duration of your stay in the area.”

The Gardiners glanced at each other in surprise. Mrs. Gardiner said warmly, “That is a very generous offer, Miss Darcy, but we could not presume to impose on you on such short acquaintance.”

“Nonsense,” said Darcy. “It would not be the least imposition. Miss Bennet is an acquaintance of long standing, and my sister and I would enjoy the opportunity to show you some of our favorite sights, and we are of course but a few miles from Lambton. Mr. Gardiner, if you enjoy fishing, there are several excellent locations on the grounds where you might like to try your hand.”

Mrs. Gardiner glanced at Elizabeth to attempt to ascertain her view of this invitation. Although clearly not surprised, her niece was making no attempt to participate in the discussion, and was sitting with her eyes averted. Presuming, however, that her studied avoidance spoke rather a momentary embarrassment than any dislike of the proposal, and seeing in her husband, who was fond of society, an interest in accepting it, she said, “Well, this is an unexpected opportunity, Mr. Darcy. Perhaps you would allow us a moment to discuss the possibility?”

“Of course,” Darcy said warmly.

Georgiana surprised both her brother and Elizabeth by adding a few words of her own. “Please, I would like it very much if you would consider it.”

The conversation had by this point drawn the attention of a surprised Mrs. Bennet, who felt the need to comment with excessive warmth on the great civility of the invitation, and all the fine things she had heard of Pemberley, to the embarrassment of her daughters. Jane tried in vain to steer the conversation to safer subjects.

The Gardiners returned after a few minutes. Mr. Gardiner said, “Miss Darcy, Mr. Darcy, we have considered the matter, and we would be honored to be your guests during the week we had planned to spend in Lambton.”

Georgiana’s eyes lit up. “That will be wonderful!” she said.

“Excellent,” agreed her brother. After discussing the arrangements at some length, he asked, “Will your travels be taking you to Matlock as well?”

“Yes, indeed,” Mr. Gardiner replied. “We are looking forward to seeing it, and walking in the Peaks.”

“Perhaps I might impose on you and join you briefly while you are there, as my own aunt and uncle have expressed an interest in meeting Miss Bennet, and it would seem to be an excellent opportunity for that to happen, if you would be willing to join me in paying a call on them.”

Elizabeth turned to stare at him in shock. Did he not realize that he might just as well have announced his intentions to the room at large? “I am afraid they might prove to be too exalted company for the likes of us,” she said quietly, her voice barbed.

Darcy turned to her with an unreadable look in his eyes. “My aunt and uncle are quite amiable, Miss Bennet; I feel certain you would like them.”

Mrs. Gardiner, sensing the sudden tension between the two, as well as the complete silence of the rest of the room, decided to intervene. “Your aunt and uncle live in Matlock, then, Mr. Darcy?”

He looked back at her, grateful for the distraction, but before he could respond, Elizabeth said in a flat voice, “Mr. Darcy’s uncle is the Earl of Derby.”

“Well,” Bingley jumped into the sudden silence these words left behind, “this does sound like a marvelous trip! I have only been through the Peaks briefly, but you will find Pemberley to be truly delightful. The grounds are some of the loveliest I have ever seen, and I have spent many a happy hour there.” He rubbed his hands together, and smiled boyishly at the company.

“Yes, I remember your sister telling me about a trip you took there,” Jane said, with a worried glance at her sister. “When was that?”

“That would have been last spring, would it not, Bingley?” said Darcy.

Elizabeth sat seething as the conversation continued between the Gardiners, Darcy, Bingley, and Jane. How dare he go against her express wishes in this way? How could the man she had allowed to hold her, to kiss her, to caress her, then turn on her in such a way? The look on her mother’s face showed the damage had indeed been done, and she could foresee precisely what would happen the minute Darcy left. If this was his idea of not rushing her, she had a great deal to say to him on the subject. Why did I allow myself to trust him? I knew perfectly well how much he likes to have things his own way, and how readily he will disregard the wishes of others; why did I think that he would treat me any differently? Why was I so foolish as to allow myself to care for him? She felt ill as she considered the position in which she now found herself.

Darcy attempted to address her several times, but she responded with as few words as civility would allow, leaving him in an agony of distress. She was clearly as furious as he had feared, and he could not see any way to find time alone with her to explain, nor had he found an opportunity to give her his letter.

When Darcy announced that it was time for them to take their leave, Mrs. Bennet, with a level of civility that would have embarrassed Elizabeth had she not been so preoccupied by her hurt and her anger with Darcy, invited the guests to stay to dinner, but Darcy declined graciously, saying that he and his sister had preparations to make, as it turned out that they would be leaving Netherfield earlier than expected owing to some business matters. He then made a point of circulating through the room to bid his adieus to her family, and he paused for some time to speak with her father. Elizabeth was not able to make out the conversation, but when Mr. Bennet glanced at her with a raised eyebrow several times during the exchange, and then the men shook hands at the close of it, she had some strong suspicions of the content of it. When Darcy and Georgiana made to leave, she made no efforts beyond those of basic civility in bidding them adieu.

“Lizzy!” Mrs. Bennet said. “Won’t you see your guests to their carriage?” Elizabeth winced, the demanding tone of her mother’s words making it clear that she was already planning the wedding.

She made a point of walking out with Georgiana, who was pleased and excited both by Elizabeth’s forthcoming visit to Pemberley and her brother’s intimations, and spoke her farewells to her in as warm a tone as she could manage. She did not turn to Darcy until his sister was already in the carriage. “Mr. Darcy,” she said coolly, her eyes flashing dangerously.

“Miss Bennet, I understand that you are unhappy with the steps I have taken, and I regret the necessity, but once you understand the reasons, I am sure you will agree I had no other choice. Knowing we would be unlikely to have time to speak privately, I wrote this to show my reasoning.” He held out the letter to her.

Elizabeth pointedly folded her hands behind her back. “Mr. Darcy, I would be surprised if we are not being watched at this moment, and if you believe that I will take a letter from your hands under these circumstances, you are mistaken.”

Worry began to show in his eyes. “Please, I beg of you, this is a matter of no little importance,” he said quietly, to avoid Georgiana’s ears. “There is gossip of a damaging nature regarding us, and it must be quelled. Please, read the letter.”

“My apologies, sir, but I will not. I am sure that you find it as unpleasant as I to have your wishes disregarded. Good journey, sir.” Elizabeth curtsied and turned away, leaving Darcy with the letter in his hand. Behind her, she heard his muttered imprecation, and at the door, turned to give him a long, serious look before entering the house.

She wished nothing more than to escape to her room, or to disappear on a long walk, but, since avoidance was impossible, she straightened her shoulders and returned to her family. Her mother, as she had expected, was in raptures, and immediately threw her arms around her. “Oh, my dearest Lizzy!” she cried. “Why have you never said anything? Good gracious! Lord bless me! Only think! Mr. Darcy! Who would have thought it! 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. Ten thousand a year! Oh, Lord! What will become of me? I shall go distracted!”

Elizabeth allowed Mrs. Bennet’s effusion to wind down somewhat before venturing to interrupt. “I am sorry to disappoint you, madam, but I must inform you that there is in fact no agreement between Mr. Darcy and me. I believe that you have taken his words for far more than was meant!”

Mr. Bennet laughed. “Come, Lizzy, you are not going to be Missish, I hope, and pretend to be affronted! Unless, perhaps, you are not the daughter that he meant when he said that he wished to speak with me about my daughter on his return—I do have three other daughters who are unspoken for, but he could not have meant Kitty or Lydia, since he does not wear a red coat. Mary, have you been stealing off to conduct a romance with Mr. Darcy?” He spoke the last with mock severity.

“Father!” Mary spluttered. “That kind of joke is most unsuitable!”

Elizabeth was horrified to hear that Darcy had been so direct with her father—she would not have thought it of him, but she could hardly disbelieve her father. Recognizing the pointlessness of arguing at this juncture, but still seething in helpless fury, she said, “I will only repeat that I am not engaged to Mr. Darcy, regardless of what he may think, and that I will not discuss reports of this any further!”

Her mother, however, was not to be subdued, since Darcy’s intention was more than enough to satisfy her, and Mr. Bennet could not resist a little more teasing. Jane and Mrs. Gardiner watched Elizabeth in concern, clearly perceiving that she was most unhappy with this turn of events, until the point where Elizabeth realized that her composure was in jeopardy, and retired to her room. Her mother made to follow her, but was nimbly distracted by Mrs. Gardiner’s efforts, while Jane quietly slipped out and went to comfort her sister.

She found her lying on her bed in tears, and put a consolatory hand on her shoulder. “Lizzy, I am so sorry that our parents are reacting in this way. I know it must be very embarrassing; although they do mean well, I wish that they could express their approval of the match more suitably.”

“The match?” asked Elizabeth angrily. “At the moment, I have no wish to see him again after what he did today.”

Jane was feeling somewhat perplexed. “What did he do today?”

“We had agreed that we would conceal his intentions from the family. He had promised just a few days ago not to rush me. But apparently it no longer suits him, so here he is, placing me in a situation that will make it extremely difficult to refuse him, and betraying his word to me! I knew it, Jane, I knew better than to allow myself to be led to this position, I knew perfectly well he would attempt to rule me the way he does everyone else, and I let myself disregard it, and believed that he had changed. What a fool I was! As soon as he felt confident of my regard, my opinion no longer mattered.”

“Lizzy, dearest Lizzy,” Jane said soothingly. “Surely there must be a misunderstanding; I am certain Mr. Darcy would not disregard your wishes. Allow him a chance to explain himself. Perhaps there is a logical explanation.”

“His explanation is that it is to avoid gossip,” Elizabeth said scornfully. “Jane, how could I have been so foolish as to let myself care for him?”

Jane continued to try to comfort her sister, but Elizabeth was disconsolate. Eventually, she felt it necessary to return to Mr. Bingley, but promised Elizabeth she would return shortly. In fact, she returned far sooner than expected, long before Elizabeth had reached any conclusions on how to manage the damage.

“Lizzy, Charles says he must speak to you, that he has a confession to make,” Jane said hesitantly. “Will you see him? He is waiting by the back stairs.”

Elizabeth wanted to refuse, feeling that Bingley would only support his friend, but the pleading look on Jane’s face, and her desire to avoid any conflict between Jane and Bingley, caused her to change her mind. After drying her tears, she accompanied Jane to where Bingley was pacing nervously.

“This is all my fault!” he exclaimed. “Lizzy, Jane has told me how distressed you are, and I simply must tell you I was the one who insisted that Darcy declare himself today. He did not want to do so, and he said you would be angry, but I did not believe him. Please, though, believe me when I say that the blame is mine, not his. There has been some very disturbing talk among the servants, and I was concerned about its impact on you. I only meant to protect you.”

Feeling rather like she was facing an apologetic puppy, Elizabeth said, “Pray do not disturb yourself, Mr. Bingley. I fear that you take too much responsibility; Mr. Darcy does exactly as he pleases, and if he acted on your request, it is simply because it suited him, not because of anything you said.”

“Lizzy,” Jane said worriedly, “Mrs. Phillips is here, and she says everyone in Meryton is saying that… oh, I cannot even say it. Mr. Darcy was trying to protect you, and it seems to have worked. Our mother seems not disturbed at all by the gossip, and says only that you are to be married, and it is all to be disregarded. I cannot imagine how she would have responded had he not spoken this morning.”

“Of course, I had forgotten that Mr. Darcy is never wrong,” said Elizabeth bitterly. “It is a shame that he has to suffer the responsibility of making these important decisions for everyone else. Please excuse me, Mr. Bingley; I fear that I am not civil company at the moment.”

Jane and Bingley looked after her retreating back with consternation.

Darcy could not decide if he was angrier at himself for not handling the situation better or at Elizabeth for refusing to hear him out. He had expected it to be difficult, but not disastrous; unfortunately, it would appear that he had been incorrect in that regard. The look on Elizabeth’s face when he left haunted him—the coolness, the anger, the rejection of it. What a way to start their separation! By the time she reached Pemberley, who knew if she would be thinking, or if she would even follow through on the agreed-upon visit. God, how could it have gone so badly so quickly?

He went directly to his rooms upon their return to Netherfield, not trusting himself in the event of meeting Miss Bingley. Throwing himself down in a chair, he drummed his fingers on the arm as he tried to decide on a course of action. He had to find some way to speak to Elizabeth before her departure, but would she even agree to speak with him? Perhaps he could see her early the next morning before she and the Gardiners departed.

An image of her from the previous day rose before him, of the smile on her face when she first saw him, then changed into the cool look she gave him from the door at Longbourn. He dropped his head into his hands.

He knew one thing only. He must make peace with her before she left.

“Lizzy, my child, sit down,” said Mr. Bennet when Elizabeth appeared in the library in response to his summons. “I have just been subjected to a most dramatic rendition of the current news from Meryton, which I fear is mostly concerning you. It appears that there is general agreement that you and Mr. Darcy are on intimate terms, with what are said to be several examples of times that he has been seen kissing and embracing you. Would you care to tell me the truth of this matter?”

Elizabeth felt that there was little point in denying it; although no doubt much of the gossip was fiction, there was certainly truth enough to it, and the behavior of Darcy and Bingley only supported it. “No, sir, I have nothing to say on the matter.”

With a deep sigh, Mr. Bennet removed his glasses. “I am now completely mystified. If I am not mistaken, last autumn your pointed dislike of Mr. Darcy and his complete indifference to you were well known to everyone. Half a year later he returns, apparently with some kind of interest in you, and this seems to surprise you not at all, and in fact you seem to choose to spend considerable time with him. Then, today, he announces his intentions, and you become angry and deny that you have an understanding. Then we are given to understand that the entire neighborhood is talking about the compromising positions you and he have been caught in, and you make no attempt to refute it. Now, this would seem to be an excellent plot for a comic opera, but I would be most appreciative if you could make some sense out of it for me.”

“You seem to have the facts well in hand, sir. I assume that you have something more to say to me than to recite history.”

“Lizzy, I am not seeking to anger you. I would like, for the sake of my own comfort, to ascertain the state of your affections towards Mr. Darcy, but I have no doubt that you see as clearly as do I that under the circumstances I have little choice as to my course of action.”

“And what would that be, sir?”

Mr. Bennet massaged his temples. It distressed him more than he could say to see his favorite child in this state, and not to be allowed to offer her comfort or understanding. “You will have to marry him, Lizzy. I can only hope that this is more palatable to you than it seems at the moment.”

She looked him in the eye, having already reached this conclusion on her own. “Is there anything else, sir?” she asked levelly.

Standing, he sighed, and walked over to her and placed a kiss on her forehead. “No, there is not, except to say that I am always available if you would like to speak further of this, and that I do want the best for you, Lizzy.”

She softened slightly, sorry to see his pain for the position in which she had put herself. “I know,” she said quietly.