A Year And A Day

Chapter 1

"I am not leaving until you have read the letter, Miss Bennet," Mr. Darcy said firmly, folding his arms across his chest and leaning back against a tree.

"Excuse me, Mr. Darcy?" Elizabeth said incredulously. "I wish you to leave."

Mr. Darcy did not budge. "I spent most of the night and this morning writing that letter, Miss Bennet. I intend to remain not only to ensure that you read it, but so that I might be here to answer any questions you may have regarding its contents. Do not be alarmed, madam, that it contains any renewal of those sentiments or offers which last evening were so disgusting to you."

His voice was calm, but his expression was not. His eyes were red-rimmed from lack of sleep (My God! Elizabeth thought, has he been weeping?) and his complexion was pale.

She nodded. "Very well, Mr. Darcy," she said, and sat on a tree stump to read the letter. Had she not been so absorbed in its contents, she might have seen that Mr. Darcy's eyes never left her face the entire time she was reading.

Elizabeth was so strongly affected by the letter's disclosures that she postponed looking at Mr. Darcy until she composed herself. When she finally was able to meet his gaze, Mr. Darcy was startled to see she had tears in her eyes.

"Well?" he said.

"What you write of Mr. Wickham. It is all true?"

"Believe me, Miss Bennet, I could have written more. Should you despise me so much as to question my truthfulness, you may apply to Colonel Fitzwilliam, who was party to all these proceedings."

She coloured. "I do not despise you, Mr. Darcy."

He shrugged, as though he did not care, although he did care, very much.

"I will speak to Bingley when I return to London, Miss Bennet, and inform him that I was mistaken as to your sister's sentiments. I am still not convinced of the suitability of your family, but if Bingley's affections are returned, it would be wrong of me to interfere."

"Very generous of you," Elizabeth said sarcastically. "Why is it you were willing to overlook my family's suitability in making an offer of marriage to me?"
"Because, Miss Bennet," he answered, "I loved you so hopelessly and passionately that I thought I could not live without you. And I am not a man normally given to using such words as 'hopelessly' and 'passionately.'" He laughed, but there was nothing of humour in his tone.

"Mr. Darcy, please let me assure you that I had no idea of your regard and would not have encouraged it had I known of it."

"Well, I must say, Miss Bennet, that that was a far more civil reflection than your informing me I am the last man in the world you could be prevailed upon to marry. I thank you for that improvement in expression.

"And now I must bid you good day," he said, taking one long last look at her before he departed. I must learn to live without her.

Elizabeth had a mad impulse to run after him to...to...to do what? Apologize? Throw my arms around him? No, no...I will think about it and decide how to approach him when next I see him.

As it happened, Mr. Darcy, true to his word, did speak to Mr. Bingley, who called upon Jane Bennet with alacrity. Bingley quickly made amends for his neglect, assured Jane of his love, and within a month, they were man and wife.

Elizabeth decided that when next she saw Mr. Darcy, she would not only apologize for her harshness in refusing his proposals, she would thank him for his role in reuniting Jane and Charles. She assumed she would be able to do so at her sister's wedding, but to her surprise, Mr. Darcy did not attend. In a letter to Charles Bingley, he explained his absence by revealing that he would be touring the Continent with his sister and was unsure as to when he would return.

It would be close to a year before Elizabeth Bennet and Mr. Darcy would meet again.

When Mr. Darcy had had some time to contemplate the events at Rosings, he convinced himself that Elizabeth's refusal had been for the best. He had never been in love before; indeed, upon reflection, he thought perhaps he had not truly been in love with Elizabeth Bennet. He decided that distancing himself from her would be the best course of action. His sister Georgiana had just turned sixteen, he had long been promising her a European tour, and as they both had been recently disappointed in love, perhaps they could each help the other recover.

His plan, to some extent, was a success. As the weeks and months passed, the piercing pain in his heart was reduced to a dull ache. Georgiana was young and resilient, and as her love for Wickham was little more than infatuation, she was quicker to recover than her brother. Darcy never confided in his sister about what caused his melancholy, but Georgiana guessed there was a woman behind it. She enjoyed her brother's companionship, and Darcy delighted in Georgiana's enjoyment of all there was to be seen in the European capitals. They celebrated Darcy's 29th birthday at a cozy ristorante in Rome, and for the first time in many months Darcy allowed himself the luxury of thinking of Elizabeth and how different he had hoped this birthday would be.

He was quiet and distant, and Georgiana reached across the table to put her hand over his.

"What are you thinking of, brother?"

"Nothing in particular," he said.

"You are unhappy," she stated.

He sighed. "It's been ten months," he said, "and still I cannot forget."

"Tell me," she answered.

Darcy searched her face. Gone was the little girl; her eyes shone with a woman's compassion. He nodded, took a sip of his coffee and began to speak.

Once he began, the words came with a rush. Darcy was rarely expressive of his feelings, so when he said he was "disappointed," Georgiana guessed he was heartbroken and that what he termed "deep affection" for Miss Elizabeth Bennet was undoubtedly passionate love. She wisely did not interrupt, knowing that if she did, he was unlikely to continue. Interspersed with his retelling of the events of last spring and the preceding months were descriptions of Miss Bennet. He could not help himself; he had rarely spoken of her to anyone and once he started, he found it difficult to stop. What Georgiana surmised from his sometimes rambling speech was that Miss Elizabeth Bennet was a most remarkable young woman, that she had a keen wit, beautiful dark eyes and playful manners, and that her brother had been, and still was, deeply in love with her.

"Fitzwilliam, we have hidden away licking our wounds long enough. It is time for us to return home," she said.

"For what reason, Georgiana? Do you miss Pemberley?"

"Of course, and I am sure you do as well. But that is not the only reason, Fitzwilliam. I want to meet your Miss Elizabeth Bennet. Except for her inability to recognize your admirable qualities, she seems a perfect creature! Although it would seem you did quite a thorough job of obscuring your admirable qualities, Fitzwilliam. Good God, brother, did you truly point out her family's shortcomings before making your proposals? What were you thinking?"

Darcy shook his head.

"I wonder if I was thinking at all, Georgiana! I believe that in some convoluted way, I was trying to convey the depth of my affections by emphasizing how much I had been required to overlook before deciding to ask Miss Bennet to marry me. Of course, I only succeeded in angering and insulting her. Not that it would have mattered had I made my proposals in more suitable language. As Miss Bennet herself told me, the manner of my expression merely spared her the concern she might have felt in refusing me had I...had I..."

At this point, Darcy hung his head, remembering the words seared into his soul.

"Had you what, Fitzwilliam?"

His response was no more than a whisper.

"Had I behaved in a more gentlemanlike manner."

He looked up at his sister pleadingly.

"You cannot imagine how much those words have tortured me, Georgiana. I will never forget them for as long as I live."

"How could she say such a thing to you, Fitzwilliam? You are every inch the gentleman, you..."

"No, Georgiana, my conduct was indefensible. Miss Bennet said nothing of me that was not deserved. Do you understand now why I wish never to see her again?"

"I am afraid I do not understand why you want to allow Miss Bennet to continue to labour under the misconception that you are not a gentleman! Yes, you said some very stupid and ill-advised things, Fitzwilliam, and yes, it will be difficult to face Miss Bennet, but do you not see it is something you must do? For yourself?"

"Too much time has passed."

"And by tomorrow, one more day will have passed, Fitzwilliam! There is no time like the present to begin to set things right."

"She might well have married another by now, Georgiana."

"Perhaps. But are you content to never know?"

Darcy had no answer to that simple question, but the very next afternoon, he had his first news of the Bennet family since he last saw Elizabeth. He received a letter from Charles Bingley, informing him of the birth of his first child, Charles Thomas, and requesting that Darcy return to England so that he might stand as godfather for the baby in April. Dear, generous-hearted Charles, Darcy thought. Not a word of remonstration for missing his wedding or his lack of communication since.

The baby's godmother, it was noted, would be Elizabeth Bennet.
Elizabeth Bennet. So, he thought, she was still "Bennet." She had not married another. Not that it was surprising, Darcy thought. He was convinced that Elizabeth was that rare female who would marry for love and love alone. After all, if she had wanted to marry for material gain, she might have accepted him that awful evening at Rosings!

No, Elizabeth Bennet did not love easily. Certainly she realized she must marry someone who could provide for her, but Darcy sensed she would also require a partner who was her equal in intellect, discernment and, for lack of a better word, simple goodness of character. Darcy's perception of himself had evolved so thoroughly these last ten months that he was fully aware on which count he had failed to meet Miss Bennet's requirements.

The realization hit him like a bolt of lightning. Even if Elizabeth had felt any romantic attraction for him at all (and indeed, she had not!) , she would have resisted it because she found his character lacking. It was as simple as that. Of course, her perceptions of his character had been erroneous, based on misinformation and prejudice, but Darcy realized his own behaviour - the haughty air of superiority he exhibited to the world at large - had reinforced her opinions. She did not find him likable, let alone an attractive marriage partner!

I want Elizabeth to like and respect me, even if she can never love me. Darcy smiled to himself, amused at his own simplistic thinking. Because of his wealth and lineage, Darcy had never been required to exert himself in any way in order to be liked and respected. It was up to others to make themselves likable to him, and their efforts in this respect he had come to expect as his due! Only Charles Bingley, for some odd reason, had managed to penetrate Darcy's reserve, with his innate cheer and goodness...

There it was again, that word, goodness. Everything about Elizabeth Bennet bewitched him, but it was her goodness that kept her anchored firmly to his heart. He would never love another, and there was an emptiness inside him that would never be filled without her.

It had taken ten months, and Georgiana's gentle prodding and urging, and Charles Bingley's timely letter, but Darcy was finally convinced. He must return to England immediately.

Once Darcy's mind was made up, he set about expediting their departure from Italy. He posted a letter to Charles, although he was unsure whether his letter would arrive in England before he and Georgiana did.

28 February
Rome

Dear Charles,

I have received your letter today requesting my presence as godfather at the christening of your son. I thank you deeply for this honour and humbly accept. I have booked passage on the next ship to England which will depart in ten days' time, and after a brief stop at Pemberley, I will be on my way to Hertfordshire.

Please accept my apologies for my hasty departure last spring. I fear I allowed a deep disappointment I had recently suffered to influence my behaviour, and I sincerely regret having missed your wedding. I am touched that your generous nature has allowed you to excuse my behaviour to the extent that you have requested that I stand as godfather to your child. You are a dear and true friend, Charles.

Please convey my best wishes to Mrs. Bingley and to all her family, and I look forward to seeing you soon.

Yours,

Fitzwilliam Darcy

Chapter 2

Charles Bingley smiled.

"Ah, Jane, good news! Darcy has responded to my letter, and he will be here for the christening."

Jane looked up from the divan where she sat next to her sister Elizabeth, who was holding little Charles Thomas Bingley in her arms. Elizabeth's reaction - a slight stiffening of her body - to hearing Darcy's name was so carefully controlled, that it was noticed only by Jane, because of her proximity.

"That is wonderful news, Charles. I know how much you miss your friend's company...he has been absent for many months now, has he not? I still cannot understand why he took his leave so suddenly and with so little explanation."

"He alludes to some disappointment he suffered last spring. I have no idea of what he speaks," Charles replied. "Darcy was never one for sharing confidences!"

A look, brief but meaningful, passed between the two sisters and went unnoticed by Charles Bingley.

"He left for England on the 10th of March and will stop at Pemberley before proceeding to Hertfordshire. Of course, he will be staying with us until the christening on the 21st of April."

He glanced at Elizabeth and Jane and smiled. "He concludes by offering his best wishes to you, Jane, and all your family." Luckily, Charles failed to notice that Darcy had neglected to extend his regards to his own two sisters!

"Our son will be a lucky little fellow, indeed," said Jane sweetly, "to have both his godparents staying at Netherfield."
Elizabeth shot her sister a suspicious glance, but Jane's expression was as innocent as ever.

After Charles left the room, Elizabeth said, "The 21st of April! Do you realize the significance of that date, Jane? It is one year and one day after Mr. Darcy proposed to me at Rosings."

"Will it be awkward for you to encounter Mr. Darcy, Elizabeth?"

"I should imagine so, Jane! I have told you of the manner in which I rejected his proposals. He might well arrive with his sword drawn!"

"You are joking now, Lizzy, but you were not mirthful when you first related those events to me."

"No, Jane, and I must confess that a part of me wished that Mr. Darcy would have refused to attend the christening! I am a selfish creature, I know, as Charles was obviously very well pleased at the prospect of seeing Mr. Darcy again. But spending a period of many days under the same roof with him...I must say I find the prospect somewhat intimidating."

"You, Lizzy, intimidated by Mr. Darcy? You certainly did not seem intimidated by him when he was in Hertfordshire!"

"Very true, Jane! I was neither intimidated nor particularly insightful in my dealings with him. I took particular pleasure in skewing him in conversation and judging him as the most villainous of men with little evidence to support my opinions. Quite clever of me, was it not?"

"Do not be so harsh on yourself, Lizzy. Mr. Wickham's story was very convincing, and you said yourself you would have apologized to Mr. Darcy had you had the opportunity."

"And I suppose I must make an attempt to do so even now, Jane. More now than ever, truth be told, as our family owes him much. Had he not told me of Wickham's villainy, Papa might have allowed Lydia to associate with him while she was in Brighton! Luckily, Colonel and Mrs. Forster were discreetly warned, and when Wickham attempted to ingratiate himself with Lydia, he was immediately thwarted. I shudder to think what might have happened had it been otherwise. Lydia seemed quite taken with him!"

"Oh, she got over it easily enough, Lizzy. There was no true attachment on her part."

"No, fortunately there was not. Had she been tempted by Wickham, I dare say it would have been due to a desire for adventure rather than any depth of feeling. Still, had their acquaintance been allowed to continue, the consequences might have been disastrous. I shall be eternally grateful for Mr. Darcy's willingness to reveal a very painful and personal episode in his sister's life, especially as he does not generally make a habit of being so open. As Charles said, he does not easily share confidences."

"Certainly you do not regret refusing Mr. Darcy, Lizzy?"
"No," Lizzy said thoughtfully, "although..."

Jane looked at her quizzically.

"It is just that...well, I may have judged him differently had I known his true character. The opinions I formed of him were almost entirely based on misinformation, and his arrogant manner reinforced those opinions. I realize now that he is not a bad man, Jane, just a rather difficult one!"

"And no doubt you could have mellowed him, Lizzy, is that what you are thinking?"

"Oh I do not flatter myself, Jane! Why should a man of Mr. Darcy's standing reform himself for the likes of me?"

"People have been known to do a great deal more for love, dearest Lizzy," Jane said with a smile.

"Hmmmph," Lizzy said. "Here I am extolling Mr. Darcy's virtues when, undoubtedly, if he were here before me, I would be finding fault with him. He does have a contrary way about him."

"Not unlike someone else we know," Jane said under her breath. "But no matter, Lizzy, you need not worry about pleasing Mr. Darcy! It is not as though you have a lack of suitors. Mr. Clifton has been particularly attentive, I have noted. Charles is sure he will soon make you an offer."

"He is very, very nice Jane. Handsome, rich, amiable. He would be a perfect match for you, were you not already married!"

"Lizzy!" Jane exclaimed. "And why would such a paragon not be a perfect match for you, may I ask?"

"He agrees with everything I say, Jane."

"And of this you do not approve?"

"It does not make for interesting conversation when I know I might say 'the sky is red' and Mr. Clifton would readily concur."

"Well then, Lizzy, perhaps you and Mr. Darcy are better suited than you may think! Were Mr. Darcy to remark that the sky is blue, I have no doubt that you would insist it was red, and Mr. Darcy would not allow your statement to go unchallenged, of that I can assure you!"

"Oh, Jane, how well you know me! Enough of Mr. Darcy. This little fellow has been nibbling on my shoulder, and I believe he needs feeding, and for that he requires his mama!"

Jane reached for the baby and settled him at her breast.

"Excellent timing on your part, little man! You have saved your Aunt Lizzy from having to continue to discuss a subject that is not pleasing to her."

"Not at all, Jane!"

"Mark my words, Lizzy. You and Mr. Darcy are going to be in each other's company for several weeks. You will have to come to some sort of understanding."

"I know, Jane, and I promise I will be civil. I will bite my tongue and force myself to beam in approval at every word Mr. Darcy utters. I will become the female version of Mr. Clifton!"

For all her attempts at humour, Elizabeth was far more disturbed at the prospect of encountering Mr. Darcy than she cared to admit to her sister, or to herself. That evening, she sat in her bedchamber at Netherfield, and carefully unfolded Mr. Darcy's letter, well worn from being read so many times. As always, she became angered anew each time she read his scathing criticisms of her family, but by the time she reached the letter's conclusion and read his closing benediction, "God bless you," her eyes filled with tears.

And now she was to see him again. She was more confused than ever.

It was not only her conflicting sentiments regarding Fitzwilliam Darcy that kept Elizabeth awake that night. There was the matter of Alexander Clifton.

Alexander Clifton was a good friend of Charles Bingley. In appearance and disposition, he was quite different from Darcy. Like Darcy, he was tall in stature, but he was blue eyed with fair hair and complexion, and his manner was engaging and charming. He smiled as though he meant it!

Charles Bingley had introduced his friend to Elizabeth Bennet during the summer, a few months after Darcy left for the Continent. He and Jane, like most blissfully married couples, thought the certain road to happiness was betrothal and marriage to a suitable partner. It was Jane's fondest wish to see her sister happily settled, and Alexander Clifton was quite taken with Elizabeth from the day he met her. Jane knew Elizabeth had turned down both the Rev. Mr. Collins and Mr. Darcy, and perhaps, she thought, the third time would be the charm.

Elizabeth thoroughly enjoyed Mr. Clifton's company. Had she thought to draw up a list comparing Mr. Clifton's good qualities to Mr. Darcy's, the list for Mr. Clifton would no doubt be longer. However, if she were truthful with herself, there would be one quality on Mr. Darcy's list that would not appear on Mr. Clifton's. However (and it was the perverseness of this that disturbed Elizabeth), she could not for the life of her name just what that quality was. It was indefinable, but her intuition was that it had something to do with the conversation she had had with Jane that afternoon. She tried to put it into words as she fell asleep, but all that came to mind was something about the sky being red rather than blue!

The following afternoon, as Elizabeth sat reading in the drawing room, she was told she had a caller. Her stomach did a little flip as for just one moment she thought, "Mr. Darcy," before she collected herself and realized that Mr. Darcy's letter, posted ten days before he left for England, had just arrived yesterday and Mr. Darcy could not possibly have arrived so quickly. It was, of course, Mr. Clifton, but even as she greeted him, she wondered why even the thought of Mr. Darcy's arrival had had such a profound effect on her. She forced herself to dismiss Mr. Darcy from her thoughts, realizing she had to address the man who stood before her rather than think of the one who was yet to arrive.

Jane had spoken of Mr. Clifton yesterday as Elizabeth's "suitor," and the thought made Elizabeth uncomfortable. She enjoyed Mr. Clifton's company and would have been happy for their relationship to continue as it was indefinitely. Jane's assertion that Charles thought Mr. Clifton might be on the verge of proposing put Elizabeth on her guard, and she did not want to encourage Mr. Clifton in that direction.

"Good afternoon, Miss Bennet. As the weather is uncommonly pleasant today, would you care to take a turn around the park with me?"

"That would be most agreeable, Mr. Clifton," Elizabeth responded. It occurred to her that perhaps it would be preferable to be in Mr. Clifton's company in a less confined space than the drawing room. But just to be certain, she called out to her sister as they rose, "Jane, won't you join us outside?"

Jane peered into the drawing room and instantly read Elizabeth's expression.

"Certainly, Lizzy, let me just fetch my cloak."

Try as he might to maintain his composure, the generally imperturbable Mr. Clifton looked just a bit peeved. His object had been to get Miss Elizabeth alone so that he might be frank in his intentions and wishes. He was, however, by nature not prone to ill humour, and as he was still unsure of Miss Bennet's sentiments, he was more than willing to postpone his addresses to a time when she might be more receptive.

And so it was in the company of two lovely ladies that Mr. Clifton walked through the Netherfield woods that afternoon. Elizabeth suddenly said, "I do believe the sky is red today, Mr. Clifton," to which he cheerfully replied, without a moment's hesitation, "Red sky at night, sailor's delight. Red sky in morning, sailor's warning."

"Do you see now, Jane?" Elizabeth asked after he had left. "He never even looked up!"

Chapter 3

Darcy's arrival at Pemberley was bittersweet.

Of course, it was wonderful to be home again. It was a prematurely warm spring, and the flowers were beginning to blossom. It was as though he were seeing Pemberley's riot of vivid spring colours -- green and peony and violet and yellow -- and its sparkling blue sky for the first time.

Their carriage crossed the bridge and headed towards the house, and Darcy and Georgiana both fell silent, breathing in the scent of Pemberley in bloom.

It would have been perfect, Darcy thought, if only...and despite himself, he sighed deeply.

"You are wishing she were here, are you not, brother?" Georgiana asked gently, thinking that it was interesting that she had no such wish regarding Wickham. He had been relegated firmly to the past.

Darcy nodded. "Yes, Georgiana, I confess I am."

"I think..." Georgiana began contemplatively. "Correct me if I am wrong, Fitzwilliam, but I believe you expected Miss Bennet to accept your proposals."

"Of course! I would not have asked had I any doubt as to her answer."

"That attitude could not have been pleasing to Miss Bennet, I think. Might I ask why you were so positive she would accept?"

"Her family is of modest means and low connections, and her marital prospects are not promising. In my prior interaction with her, she had a playful manner that I found enchanting, and I suppose I misinterpreted it as her having a personal interest in me. I assumed she would be eager to receive my proposals!"

He looked down at his hands.

"I know, Georgiana, it must seem the most despicable conceit on my part..." Here he trailed off, remembering. "Your arrogance, your conceit and your selfish disdain for the feelings of others."

He shuddered. "I dare say you are right, Georgiana, Miss Bennet was quite displeased and made no secret of her displeasure."

"You must approach things differently this time, brother."

Darcy smiled faintly.

"And what makes you think I intend to approach her at all?"
"Opportunity has knocked, but it is up to you to answer the door! There, I have neatly summed it up with a cliche of the worst sort!"

Darcy laughed aloud. "How my shy little sister has changed this past year. I know my stated intent for touring the Continent was for your benefit, Georgiana, but it has proven beneficial for me as well. Your company has been exactly what I required to sustain me, and I only regret I was not frank with you sooner."

Darcy spoke the absolute truth. In many ways, he felt as though he truly knew his sister for the first time. Of course, there was another kind of companionship for which he longed, and try as he might, he had found Elizabeth Bennet irreplaceable in that regard.

Oh yes, he had tried. In the first weeks of their trip, while they were in Paris, he had attempted to fulfill his needs in a limited way. He was still angry and resentful of Miss Bennet, and he wanted to prove to himself how unnecessary she was to him. His physical needs were pressing, and he sought out the sort of companionship that men needed but never discussed.

Dominique was sympathetic and beautiful in a much more flamboyant fashion than Elizabeth Bennet, and he sought her out for the particular reason that her appearance was in direct contrast to Miss Bennet's. She was tall, with a fashionably curvy figure, and had stunning blue eyes and strawberry blond curls. Her age was difficult to discern; she might have been anywhere from 30 to 40, and she had a lovely musical voice. She spoke perfect English with a most seductive French accent, and this was a good thing as ultimately, talking was all she and Darcy did!

As it happened, what he intended to do and what he succeeded in doing were completely different that evening. Dominique neither complained nor judged; Darcy would not be the first nor the last man who had paid for her time without indulging in the special sensual pleasures one of her occupation had to offer.

Dominique was a courtesan favoured by the upper classes, and as such, she expected and received treatment not generally accorded to the more lowly of her occupation. So the evening began as planned, with fine food and wine consumed by candlelight.

Dominique was an accomplished and sophisticated woman, and in truth, Darcy did enjoy the conversation as a prelude to the lovemaking that was intended to follow. After a glass too many of burgundy, however, Darcy's side of the conversation began to veer in the direction of disappointed hopes and ungrateful women with fine dark eyes who did not recognize a good opportunity when it came their way. Soon, uncharacteristically, it was Darcy doing all the talking, pouring out his bitterness to this woman who was, after all, being paid to listen.

Spirits and bitterness were a poisonous combination, and Darcy's ranting gave way to slurred speech and angry tears. Dominique, accustomed to seeing men at their worst, did her best to placate him, but in the end it became necessary for her manservant to escort him to his carriage so that he might return to his hotel.
"Go home and sleep it off, Monsieur, and return when you are feeling better. At no charge, naturellement!" That last bit of graciousness was due to the fact that Monsieur Darcy was handsome, indeed, and Dominique was disappointed the evening had not ended differently. Mlle. Dominique was not in the habit of offering her services gratis.

Dominique was fairly certain, however, that he would not be back. Monsieur Darcy, she knew, would not feel better in the morning, nor for many, many months. He had it bad, did Monsieur Darcy, and what he needed was the young lady with the fine dark eyes, and she was many miles away. She had attempted to gently tell him so earlier, but he seemed to want to talk, not listen.

Darcy shook himself out of this embarrassing reverie as the carriage drew up to the front of the house. It occurred to him that Dominique and Georgiana were of the same opinion regarding his need for Elizabeth Bennet, but it was hardly something he could mention to his sister!

There was an enthusiastic greeting from the Pemberley staff awaiting them. Mrs. Reynolds, the housekeeper whose employment was of the longest duration, anxiously searched the Master's face so as to determine whether the melancholy that had so concerned her last spring lingered. Mr. Darcy had never been the most jovial or talkative of young men, but Mrs. Reynolds had known him since he was a toddler and knew well when his pensiveness was due to more than his natural reserve.

He did look better, healthier, than he did when she last saw him, and there was an ease in his discourse with his sister that pleased Mrs. Reynolds very well indeed. As she had hoped, the two of them had proven effective balm for each other, not that Mrs. Reynolds had any specific knowledge of what was disturbing both of them before they left for the Continent.

"You will be wanting your tea I am sure, Mr. Darcy, Miss Darcy?" she asked with a welcoming smile.

"Exactly what we require, Mrs. Reynolds," Darcy answered. "Thank you." They had partaken of the best of haute cuisine in Paris, but suddenly nothing seemed so appealing as a steaming cup of English tea and one of Cook's freshly baked, buttery scones with strawberry jam and clotted cream.

How wonderful it was to be home! They would stay a week before leaving for Hertfordshire. Perhaps a week's respite would give him the opportunity to decide exactly what he wanted and how to go about getting it.

As he drank his tea, Darcy wondered for the first time what Elizabeth Bennet was feeling about their impending meeting. Surely his letter to Bingley had arrived by now and she knew of his imminent arrival. Was she as disturbed as he at the prospect? Did she look forward to seeing him, or did she dread the renewal of their acquaintance? Remembering the letter he had sent her, and its bitterness of expression, he fervently wished she had destroyed it. There were parts of it he wished her to never have the power of reading again. How he wished he could go back and change it; how differently he would word it today. He could only think that his letter, while it set forth the facts about his history with Wickham, had reinforced Elizabeth's opinion of his arrogance and haughtiness.

He could not remember the particulars of all he had said and written, but its central message was this: You are not good enough for me, but I love you anyway. Just the way one went about wooing a woman!

He knew how he would summarize his sentiments, had he the opportunity now: You are everything I need, I love you, and I have tried to make myself worthy of you.

And as he had always been more effective expressing himself in writing, Mr. Darcy thought that was exactly what he must do. Tonight he would begin to write another letter, one he would never give Miss Bennet, as it would be highly improper to do so. But putting his thoughts down on paper might inspire him to say the right things and do the right things this time.

He looked up to see Georgiana staring at him raptly. "Fitzwilliam! You had the most intense expression on your face. Your lips were moving as though you were talking, yet you emitted no sound. Are you unwell?"

"No, Georgiana, I am well. Better than I have been in quite some time, but I do admit I need to get some rest after our long journey. After tea, I will retire to my room, and it may be advisable for you to do likewise."

"I am not tired as yet, brother. I believe I will play the pianoforte for a little while, as I do long for my own instrument. It has been a very long time."

Darcy followed her into the music room and listened to Georgiana play for a half hour, remembering the performance of another fair lady at Rosings a year ago. As much as he enjoyed the sight and sound of his sister playing, he would have given anything to see that other lady in her place and to know that she belonged here, with him.

Oddly, he felt more inspired than disturbed by these reflections, and the strains of Georgiana's playing followed him as he ascended the stairs to his bedchamber, eager to begin composing his letter.

Darcy, in shirtsleeves, sat at his desk. He took a sheet of stationery and began to write.

Dear Miss Bennet,

He shook his head. No. As he was not going to give the letter to Elizabeth, he would forego restraint and write it exactly as it was in his heart.

He discarded the first piece of paper, took another, and began again.

My dearest Elizabeth
I address you thus because it is what you are and will always be to me. Mine. Dearest.

When I look back on the events of last spring, it is as though I am in the parsonage drawing room once again, alone with you, and a word has not yet been spoken. If only it were true, that the foolish things I said, expecting my words to woo you, were never said and I could begin anew. I will not attempt to justify in any way the things I said, as they are indefensible. I only hope that you have destroyed the letter I wrote you then, so that your only memory of my arrogant sentiments is hearing them spoken and that perhaps that memory might now be fading.

You must allow me to tell you how ardently I admire and love you. Do you remember? If only you could obliterate from your memory the words that preceded these, dearest Elizabeth. Had you not heard those other cutting words first, would these have been more pleasing to you? What kind of man would preface a declaration of love with words that defile that love? This man emphatically would not, would he be so fortunate as to be given an opportunity to make his declarations again.

In the matter of Wickham, little more need be said. Despite your dislike of me, you knew I spoke the truth, and you were generous enough to concede this to me. There are those, I realize now, who would be reluctant to connect themselves to my sister because of what befell her last summer. Do you see the irony, dearest Elizabeth, in my declaring my love only after pointing out what as I saw as your family's deficiencies, when my own sister was nearly disgraced beyond redemption?

I write these words now because soon I shall see you again. What do I say to you? Is there anything I might say that will make you think better of me? Most everything in my life has come easily to me, except the one thing I desire most. I sense that I have only one chance, that if we do not come to some understanding, or the beginning of some kind of tentative friendship, we will part never to meet again. And that is what I dread most of all, that I will see you, and the wanting and needing will wash over me again, and you will look at me with the disgust I saw in your eyes the last time we met, and that nothing will make it go away. Yell at me, Elizabeth, pound your fists against my chest, do anything rather than be indifferent.

I love you, Elizabeth, more today than ever, even more because of the harsh words you spoke that I needed to hear. You made me see myself, and I had to take myself far away to do so. I cannot love another, I cannot even desire another, I am lost without you.

It is through the birth of a child that we are brought together again. Look at me when we hold that baby over the christening font, and you will know how much I wish it were our baby, yours and mine. One year from now, where will we be? If I am not with you, I do not know where I will be. It is unimaginable to me to face life without you.

Can you ever love me? You have stripped me of all pretensions. What I have, what I can give you, what I can do for your family, you knew all this and it was not good enough for you because the man who offered these things to you was not good enough. God bless you for making me know this, because if ever you do accept me, I will know I have been given the gift of your love.
Darcy did not even realize he was crying until he saw his own tears on the letter. His mind had been racing almost more quickly than he could write, but it was cathartic to face his feelings and put them into words.

Could he convey even a fraction of what he felt for her to Elizabeth Bennet? He was not good with words, and never had been, but he would force himself to speak to her soon after they met again.

Chapter 4

In the weeks leading up to the christening, Mr. Clifton had been calling on Elizabeth with greater frequency. She neither encouraged nor discouraged his attentions, and Jane refrained from recommending Mr. Clifton to her sister. Unlike Charles, who was oblivious to what Elizabeth was thinking, Jane wisely realized that there was more than one man on Elizabeth's mind these days.

So it was Charles Bingley who was more inclined to play the matchmaker, inviting Mr. Clifton to dinner and taking care to engage him and Elizabeth in conversation. Jane decided it was time that Charles knew the history of Elizabeth's acquaintance with Mr. Darcy.

Charles had his son atop his shoulder, the baby's favorite spot for falling asleep, and Jane sat opposite him in the library. Charles could never remember being so blissfully happy; he was in his own home with a beautiful, gentle wife he loved, and a baby who was adored by both of them.

"Charles," Jane said, "I fear there is something I must tell you. I hope you will not be angry at my not relating it sooner, but as it was not my own secret but someone else's, I did not feel it was my place."

Charles could not imagine his guileless wife knowing a secret so dreadful that she could not share it with her husband.

"What is it, Jane?" he asked, clearly concerned.

"Nothing so terrible, dearest. Last spring, when Mr. Darcy left abruptly for Europe, do you recall your bewilderment at his not attending our wedding?"

"Yes, of course. I was not happy about it, Jane, and Darcy has still not explained it adequately. The first time he even mentioned it was in his letter, referring to a disappointment he had experienced."

"I know what that disappointment was. I knew it then, last spring, but I could not share my knowledge with you."

"You knew, and you did not tell me? I do not understand, Jane."

"Charles, when Mr. Darcy was at Rosings in April, he proposed to Elizabeth and she refused him. More than refused him. They had a terrible row, they both said some hurtful things, and Darcy left for France soon after."

"Darcy in love with Elizabeth! I always suspected, although he never spoke of it."

"One of the reasons she refused him was because of his interference in our courtship."

Bingley nodded. "Jane, he apologized profusely, but if you had refused to see me, I could never have forgiven him. I was very angry with him."

"I know. Poor Mr. Darcy. The woman he loved misjudged and refused him, his best friend was angry with him...I know much of it was his own fault, but I cannot help feeling pity for him."

"Dearest Jane. Why do you tell me now?"

"Because I believe Elizabeth is not completely indifferent to him. I do not believe she regrets refusing him, but I do believe she regrets the uncharitable manner of her refusal. It may be better if you do not encourage Mr. Clifton in his attentions to her, until she has resolved her feelings about Mr. Darcy."

"Mr. Clifton is my friend, Jane, I can hardly bar him from the house!"

"Of course not, Charles, and I am not asking you to do so. Just do not promote him to Elizabeth as a possible marriage partner. If he and Elizabeth are truly inclined toward each other, they should not require anyone else's assistance."

"Do you believe Darcy still loves your sister?"

"I have no way of knowing that, Charles. I want to see how they behave in each other's company."

"I tend to think he does, Jane. Darcy may be slow to warm up to people, but he is steadfast once he does."

"I know how highly you think of him, Charles. But Mr. Clifton is your friend as well, and it could be an awkward situation for everyone concerned."

"It might do well for Darcy to know he has a rival, Jane. He is far too complacent in all matters!" Charles chuckled. "Well, well...Darcy and Elizabeth. One would never guess, they seemed to go out of their way to disagree with each other!"

"And rather enjoyed it, I suspect!"

"It is incomprehensible to me. As for myself, Jane, I much prefer harmony." He kissed his son, who was now fast asleep.

Jane rose. "Now that Master Charles is asleep, shall we enjoy some immediate harmony, my love?" She extended her hand to her husband, and he touched it to his lips.

"Wonderful idea, Mrs. Bingley."

After tucking their son into his cradle, the Bingleys retired to their bedchamber, grateful for the ease and comfort of their marriage, and hopeful that those they loved best might someday be equally as happy.

At Pemberley, Darcy and Georgiana prepared for their journey to Netherfield. Georgiana took particular pleasure in assisting Fitzwilliam in selecting the garments he would bring with him as she wanted him to appear to his best advantage when meeting Miss Bennet again.

"When will Miss Bennet be arriving at Netherfield, Fitzwilliam?"

"I imagine a day or two before the christening."

Neither of them knew that Elizabeth had been staying at Netherfield since the birth of the baby. Jane, confined to the house as a new, nursing mother, took much pleasure in her sister's company.

"Then you will have a few days to prepare yourself, Fitzwilliam, that is good. Yes...that one, Fitzwilliam...the green one," she said, giving a critical eye to the coat he held up for her approval.

Darcy smiled at his sister. Elizabeth Bennet had been singularly unimpressed with his wealth and the life he had offered her, and he rather doubted his choice of coat would have any bearing on her opinion of him, but Georgiana so wanted to be helpful.

Darcy shook his head. "I do not think there is time enough for me to prepare myself adequately, Georgiana. I have no idea of my reception!"

"Perhaps that is a good thing, brother, as I recall that last spring you were far too certain of your reception, and no good came of it!"

Georgiana smiled as she lovingly wrapped the silver rattle and cup they had purchased for the baby in Rome. Darcy had purchased another gift, one of which his sister had no knowledge.

While in Naples, he had happened upon a jeweler's shop and was enticed by the display of delicate cameos in the window. One cameo, in particular, had attracted his attention. Set on a blush pink background and encircled in gold, it depicted a woman in profile, her chin held high, three errant curls at the nape of her neck. It so reminded him of his Elizabeth that he had purchased it and kept it in his upper left coat pocket, over his heart, ever since. He hoped someday to give it to her.

Their trunks were in the carriage and all was ready for their departure. At the last moment, Darcy remembered the letter he had written and went to his room to retrieve it. His first instinct was to lock it in his desk drawer, but finally he decided to take it with him, so that he might review its contents if and when he was ready to be frank with Miss Bennet. He folded the letter, and put it in his overcoat pocket.

They were off to London, where they would spend the night, and tomorrow morning they would leave for Hertfordshire.

With just one week remaining until the baby's christening celebration, Elizabeth's thoughts turned to Mr. Darcy. Since the arrival of his letter, no communication had been received from him and he had not been specific as to the date of his arrival. Caroline Bingley and Mr. and Mrs. Hurst, she knew, would arrive tomorrow. Because of the proximity of Longbourn to Netherfield, her own family, who had, of course, already seen the baby, would remain at home until the day of the christening. Elizabeth had been grateful that Mr. Clifton's courtship (if one could truly call it a courtship) had been conducted without her family's presence.

On this particular afternoon, Elizabeth was enjoying a cup of tea and a quiet moment to herself when Mr. Clifton was announced. The gentleman looked particularly motivated this afternoon, and he nodded briefly at Elizabeth before he sat on the chair directly opposite hers.

He leaned forward, an earnest expression on his face. It was an expression she had seen before, on another gentleman's face, and she dreaded what she felt sure was to follow. Am I doomed, she thought, to receive declarations of love from men for whom I feel no similar sentiments?

"Miss Bennet, surely you know that from early in our acquaintance, I have felt a particular fondness for you which I have felt for no other woman. Dare I hope that my feelings are reciprocated and that you might make me the happiest of men?"

His words were curiously lacking in emotion. How well she remembered another proposal almost a year ago.

"In vain have I struggled. It will not do. My feelings will not be repressed. You must allow me to tell you how ardently I admire and love you."

Elizabeth was surprised at her own feelings. Despite the haughtiness of Mr. Darcy's manner of expression and his inappropriate and offensive communications regarding her family's inferiority, she had never doubted his passion. It was written on his face, flushed with emotion, it was apparent in his pacing back and forth throughout the room, and in his anger and anguish at her refusal.

What is wrong with me? she thought. I want it all! Amiability and suitableness are not enough for me without the passion.

"Mr. Clifton, I am honoured by your proposals, but I regret I cannot accept them."

"Miss Bennet, you led me to believe..."
"I am sincerely sorry if I led you to believe anything that was not true, Mr. Clifton."

"Miss Bennet, I will accept your refusal for now, but until the day you are the bride of another, I will persist in hoping. May I continue to call on you? Will you allow me that much?"

Again, the man was curiously dispassionate in his request.

"You may persist in whatever you think appropriate, Mr. Clifton, but I must warn you I shall not change my mind."

"Fair enough, Miss Bennet," he said, taking her hand and lifting it to his lips.

It was a most inopportune moment for him to do so, for just as he gazed into her eyes and kissed her hand, Charles Bingley entered the room accompanied by Fitzwilliam and Georgiana Darcy.

Chapter 5

It was a moment of intense emotion for all present, except Mr. Clifton, who, of course, had no knowledge of the history of Elizabeth's prior acquaintance with Mr. Darcy.

Elizabeth, her cheeks aflame, instantly pulled her hand from Mr. Clifton's and let it drop to her side. Georgiana, standing to the left of her brother, put a calming hand on his forearm and patted him gently. She did not need to be told that the embarrassed young lady in the drawing room was Miss Elizabeth Bennet; she had immediately ascertained it by the stricken look on her brother's face.

Darcy's first, dismal thought was "It is too late. She is promised to another."

Bingley had the unenviable but necessary task of introducing his guests to Mr. Clifton.

"Mr. Alexander Clifton, this is my good friend, Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy, and his sister, Miss Georgiana Darcy."

If Mr. Clifton was confused by the icy expression on Mr. Darcy's face, it was not evident. He smiled and bowed, not seeming to notice that his gesture was returned with only the most perfunctory nod by Mr. Darcy. Georgiana forced herself to be more gracious and smiled in return.

And since Mr. Darcy did not make a move to introduce his sister to Elizabeth Bennet, that responsibility fell to Mr. Bingley as well.

"Miss Darcy, may I present Miss Elizabeth Bennet?"

Georgiana smiled, her eyes searching Miss Bennet's face, and bowed.

"It is a pleasure to meet you at last, Miss Bennet. My brother has told me so much about you."

Elizabeth glanced at Mr. Darcy, who had still not acknowledged her. He was, in fact, looking determinedly toward the window.

"And I have heard so much about you, Miss Darcy. Did you and your brother enjoy your stay on the Continent?"

"Yes, it was lovely, Miss Bennet, but it is good to be home. I know my brother was anxious to return and renew his acquaintance with all those here in Hertfordshire."

Darcy was stealing a glance at Elizabeth, but the moment she looked at him, he quickly turned away once again.

Her mouth dry, Elizabeth forced herself to address him.
"Are you well, Mr. Darcy?"

He looked at her warily.

"Quite well, thank you, Miss Bennet. And may I inquire after your parents, and your sisters?"

"They are well, Mr. Darcy, I thank you."

Despite himself, Darcy turned to look at Mr. Clifton. He was most distressed to discover that the man was looking at Elizabeth with a smug, proprietary expression on his face.

Mr. Clifton lingered, hoping Bingley would invite him to stay for dinner, but Bingley remembered Jane's admonishment of the previous evening and refrained from doing so. Finally Clifton took his leave, smiling at Elizabeth and saying meaningfully, "I will return tomorrow, Miss Elizabeth, as we earlier agreed. I will count the minutes until then."

Elizabeth thought she had agreed to no such thing, but she could hardly contradict his statement in the presence of the others.

Mr. Clifton bowed to all present.

"It has been a pleasure to meet you, and I hope to see you again soon. Good day, Bingley, and thank you as always for your hospitality."

Georgiana looked at her brother with sympathy. The poor man looked utterly miserable. How she wished she could communicate what her intuition told her, that Miss Bennet was indifferent to Mr. Clifton. And more than that, she was far from indifferent to Fitzwilliam! Her brother was behaving as he usually did when he was embarrassed or uncomfortable; he became silent and withdrawn. If this was how he had behaved when he was first in Hertfordshire, it was no wonder the general opinion of him had been so poor.

Bingley was supremely grateful when Jane, carrying baby Charles, entered the room, for it gave them all something about which to converse!

"Ah, Mr. Darcy," Jane said warmly, crossing the room to show him the baby. "And this must be your sister! It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Miss Darcy."

"The pleasure is mine, Mrs. Bingley. And what a perfectly adorable baby!" Georgiana answered.

"Mrs. Bingley," Darcy said, "may I offer my sincere best wishes on your marriage and on the birth of your son."

"I thank you, Mr. Darcy. Charles Thomas Bingley, may I present your godfather, Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy," Jane said with a bright smile. "Would you like to hold your godson, Mr. Darcy?"
As it happened, Mr. Darcy, having no experience in such matters, would have much rather not held him, but as there was no gracious way of refusing, he gingerly took the baby into his arms and cradled him awkwardly.

Georgiana smiled at the comical picture her brother presented. A man of such large stature holding this tiny being in his arms! Even the baby seemed awestruck, his big blue eyes staring unblinkingly at Darcy's face.

"I think I should sit down," Darcy said nervously, seating himself on the chair opposite Elizabeth.

Elizabeth stifled a giggle at Mr. Darcy's stiff posture and could not resist saying, "Relax your arms, Mr. Darcy, he will not break."

"You are looking well, Mr. Darcy, the Italian sun has certainly agreed with you," Jane said. "Is he not looking well, Lizzy?"

"Yes, he is," Elizabeth said in a near whisper. He is even more handsome than I remember, she thought. "It is...it is good to see you looking so well, Mr. Darcy," she said, not daring to meet his eyes.

Darcy stared at her, trying to collect his thoughts sufficiently to make a sensible response.

Say something, Fitzwilliam! Georgiana thought.

"I hope we did not intrude on you this afternoon, Miss Bennet," he said. "It appeared we...might have," he finished weakly.

Georgiana turned her head so that no one would see her roll her eyes. Most emphatically not what I had in mind!

"Not at all," Elizabeth said awkwardly.

What else would she say, Darcy thought. She could hardly admit that we had interrupted her sharing a romantic interlude with Mr. Clifton!

All that Elizabeth wanted to convey to him -- her gratitude for his telling her of Wickham's ignoble behaviour, thus sparing Lydia from possible disgrace, her remorse for the unfair accusations she had made of him last spring, and her appreciation of his owning up to Bingley about his role in separating him from Jane -- could only be conveyed in private, and she wondered if she would ever have the opportunity.

It would certainly not be today, when they seemed to be reduced to uttering the most meaningless of pleasantries and tentatively worded inquiries:
Are you well? Is your family well? You are looking well.

It was absurd, Elizabeth thought, when she remembered the raw emotions that had surfaced at their last meeting.

And she knew quite well what Mr. Darcy was thinking, that she had some sort of understanding with the bland and inoffensive Mr. Clifton. How on earth was she to let Mr. Darcy know that she had refused an offer of marriage from Mr. Clifton? There was simply no way for her to relate these events to Mr. Darcy as it would be highly improper and unfair to Mr. Clifton. She would no more consider sharing this information with Mr. Darcy than she had considered revealing Mr. Darcy's failed proposal to anyone but Jane. How very frustrating it all was.

Elizabeth now feared that perhaps Mr. Darcy had come to Netherfield for no other reason than to fulfill his obligation to his friend. After all, he had not contacted Bingley until he received Bingley's letter asking him to be baby Charles' godfather. It was entirely possible, even probable, that he would still be in Italy had Charles not written to him.

By neither word nor expression had he indicated any more than a polite interest in her, Elizabeth thought. Indeed, why should he? He had been in love with her, or thought he was, a year ago, and on that occasion she had cruelly rebuffed his proposals. All those deficiencies of family and connections that had made him hesitant to declare himself then were still present now! Having been so emphatically refused, why would he risk his heart again?

What conceit on my part, Elizabeth thought, to assume his feelings would remain constant after so many months.

Baby Charles began to cry, and Elizabeth looked up. Darcy attempted to comfort the wailing child, with little success. He looked down at the baby, then at Elizabeth, and he remembered what he had written, and his face was covered with the deepest blush.

Look at me when we hold that baby over the christening font, and you will know how much I wish it were our baby, yours and mine.

"I will take him from you, Mr. Darcy," Elizabeth said, and Darcy thought she could not fail to see how affected he was by his improper thoughts and by the brushing of her arms against his as she carefully took the baby from him.

This is what might have been mine, but for my abominable pride, he thought. Look at Charles -- the man glows with happiness! And why should he not? Despite all obstacles, obstacles placed in his way by me, when given the opportunity, he seized happiness with both hands, while I threw it away.

"There, there, little one," Elizabeth said, as the baby wrapped his fist around her finger. She leaned down to nuzzle the baby's face with her own.
How serene, how right she looks, holding the infant so tenderly. I cannot bear to think of her with Clifton, or with any other man.

"Lizzy, I believe it is time to put the baby down for his nap," Jane said.

"I will help you, Jane," Elizabeth answered, eager to be alone with her sister to convey all that had happened and what she was feeling.

The two sisters excused themselves to go upstairs to the nursery, leaving Bingley with Darcy and Georgiana.

Georgiana gazed at Fitzwilliam with the deepest sympathy.

"You look fatigued, brother. And I confess I am feeling so myself after our journey."

Bingley immediately suggested they retire to their rooms until dinner, and his offer was accepted.

Georgiana was determined to have a word with her brother in private, and she had the opportunity when they arrived upstairs.

"Fitzwilliam," she said softly so no one might overhear. "All is not lost, please believe me."

Darcy shook his head. "You saw them together as well as I did, Georgiana. It was quite obvious."

"Oh yes, it was quite obvious! Mr. Clifton is far more enamoured of Miss Bennet than she is of him. Think, brother! She immediately removed her hand from his when we entered the room, and she appeared relieved when he left. He eagerly anticipated seeing her again tomorrow, and she expressed no similar sentiments. Neither she nor her sister nor Charles Bingley suggested that he stay for dinner, although Mr. Clifton seemed loath to leave, and certainly one of them would have, had there been any understanding between them! You are not thinking logically."

Darcy sighed. "All I ever did in the past was think logically, Georgiana."

"Miss Bennet is not indifferent to you, of that I am certain. She blushed when she saw you and when she touched you, and why on earth, Fitzwilliam, did you make that unfortunate comment about intruding upon her and Mr. Clifton after she remarked on how well you looked?"

"I did? She did? I cannot remember a word either of us said today. What would you have had me say?"

"Something that would have not so blatantly called her attention to Mr. Clifton. 'You are looking lovely yourself, Miss Bennet,' might have been a good start!"

"It would have been no lie, Georgiana. Is she not beautiful?"
"Yes, she is, but I see it is far more than her beauty that has captivated you. Fitzwilliam, you may count upon it that Mr. Clifton is going to be here again tomorrow. I suggest you arise early in the morning and place yourself firmly next to Miss Bennet, and do not move!"

A wide grin spread over his handsome face at his formerly timid sister's audaciously delivered commands.

"And smile, Fitzwilliam! Just like that!"

Chapter 6

Jane and Lizzy, safely behind the closed door of the nursery, earnestly discussed the afternoon's events. Jane settled herself in the upholstered rocking chair, baby at her breast, and eagerly awaited the disclosures her sister so urgently wished to make.

"Oh, Jane, I have never had so distressing an afternoon in my life! First Mr. Clifton took me totally by surprise with a proposal of marriage..."

"Lizzy, he didn't!"

"Yes he did, Jane, despite all my best attempts to prevent him. He did not seem unduly distressed at my refusal, and insisted that he would not be discouraged. Imagine, Jane, another Mr. Collins, who will not take a refusal as discouragement! He did not once mention the word 'love,' Jane! Even Mr. Darcy, for all his disagreeableness, did tell me he loved me that day last spring."

"You seemed rather affected by Mr. Darcy's presence, Lizzy."

"Jane, how could I not be? I have not yet told you the worst of it!"

Jane's eyes widened. "The worst of it? What happened, Lizzy?"

"At the very moment Charles chose to bring Mr. Darcy and his sister into the drawing room, Mr. Clifton was in the process of kissing my hand in the attitude of a suitor who had hopes of success, rather than one who had just been soundly rejected."

"Oh no, Lizzy! How can Charles have been so thoughtless as not to knock? What was Mr. Darcy's reaction?"

"His typical one of no reaction at all, Jane. He was cold to Mr. Clifton and did not address me directly until I made some inquiry of him first. Ohhhh...why did I do that? What must he be thinking of me!"

"Lizzy, may I be frank?"

"Of course, Jane."
"If how Mr. Darcy was looking at you while you were holding little Charles was any indication of what he was thinking, I can assure you his thoughts were very favourable indeed!"

Elizabeth looked at her sister hopefully.

"I could not meet his eyes, Jane, because I feared my expression would reveal my feelings."

"Lizzy, you must look at this from Mr. Darcy's point of view. You told him in no uncertain terms last year that his proposals were unwelcome. He arrives at Netherfield and sees you in a somewhat compromising position with another man. Why would he be anything but cautious in his approach unless you gave him some indication his attentions would be welcome? At the very least, he must be made to realize that you have no attachment to Mr. Clifton."

"Yes, Mr. Clifton," Lizzy sighed, "who no doubt will be awaiting me at the breakfast table tomorrow morning at dawn!"

Jane giggled.

"Perhaps, like Mr. Collins, his attentions may be deflected to another, Lizzy. It is not as though he has been passionate in his declarations."

"No, indeed, Jane, his proposals were sadly lacking in passion!"

"Caroline Bingley will arrive the day after tomorrow, Lizzy."

"Oh, no! Surely Mr. Clifton has done nothing so terrible so as to deserve such a fate!"

"Perhaps, Lizzy, it will be a suitable match. Mr. Clifton is 32 and is no doubt eager to marry and produce an heir, and he does not seem to require an all-consuming love for the woman he is to marry. Caroline is not getting any younger, and Mr. Clifton has everything she requires: a large estate and a good income. But most importantly, Lizzy, you must let Mr. Clifton know in no uncertain terms that his prospects with you are hopeless!"

"I do not want to be cruel, Jane. He has been most attentive and amiable, and he is a good friend to Charles."

"I know, Lizzy. You need not be cruel, just emphatic. He would be a fool, indeed, to pursue Caroline if he thinks he has any remaining hope of becoming engaged to you! And then we must somehow ensure that Mr. Darcy knows you do not have and never will have any attachment to Mr. Clifton."

Lizzy laughed. "Such deviousness, Jane! Mama would be proud."

"One more thing, Lizzy. Am I correct in observing that your feelings have softened toward Mr. Darcy?"

"I...I am not sure, Jane. I certainly no longer hate the man. He has proven by his actions that he is not the villain I once thought him. But he was very quiet today, Jane. No matter what you may think, I saw no indication that he had any affection for me."

"No, Lizzy, I am sure you are wrong. And if it continues thus, with neither of you willing to take the risk of exposing your sentiments, Mr. Darcy may well leave for Derbyshire directly after the christening, with nothing resolved between you."

Jane noted that her sister had tears in her eyes.

"It is I who has been accused of hiding my feelings, Lizzy, pray do not follow my example. Ah, Lizzy, your tears betray you."

"How shall I face him at dinner, Jane?"

"By being your usual charming and impertinent self! I know he is still in love with you, Lizzy, but he needs some encouragement."

"I will try, Jane."

"And Lizzy? Do not consider marrying without love. A dispassionate marriage might be good enough for Caroline Bingley, but not for you, my most beloved sister. Passion in marriage, contrary to what Mama may have told you, is to be highly recommended. And its result," she said, gazing lovingly at her sleeping son, "is delightful, indeed."

Lizzy, with Jane's assistance, took special pains in her appearance and dress before going downstairs to dinner with her sister and Bingley. Mr. Darcy, who was seated next to his sister, immediately rose to his feet upon her entrance.

Both Elizabeth and Mr. Darcy, relying upon the coaching of their respective siblings, made an effort to be sociable and agreeable.

"You are looking quite well this evening, Miss Bennet," he said with a serious expression, until in accordance with Georgiana's instructions, he remembered to smile. Quite well? She is stunningly beautiful, how can I ever have thought otherwise?

"Thank you, Mr. Darcy," Lizzy answered, her tone deliberately playful. "I believe I neglected to tell you this afternoon how becoming I find your newly acquired tan, no doubt the result of all those days spent in the Italian sun." He should smile like that more often, it makes him look impossibly handsome. Those dimples!

Darcy swallowed, hard, as they all sat down. That was a definite flirtation. He looked doubtfully at Georgiana. Was it not?
Georgiana, as though reading his mind, gave her brother an encouraging nudge under the table.

"I hope you might see Italy yourself one day, Miss Bennet. I should very much like to show you the places Georgiana and I found most delightful."

Excellent, Fitzwilliam, excellent! Georgiana thought, looking at him with admiration. Her brother was learning rapidly, indeed.

"Oh, yes, I have always longed to see Italy, Mr. Darcy! Tell me, which of the cities did you find most memorable?"

Nothing I saw there or anywhere was as memorable as those beautiful eyes. I thought of them every single day, and to see them now in reality, gazing at me so sweetly, is blissful, indeed.

"Certainly all the major cities had their merits, Miss Bennet, but I must confess that the art and sculpture galleries in Florence..."

Soon Elizabeth and Mr. Darcy were conversing almost exclusively with each other. They had found a neutral subject, of true interest to both of them, and Elizabeth was astounded at how amiable he could be. He was looking at her so intently, listening eagerly to each word that she spoke as though it were a gift. His hand went to his left breast pocket, touching the cameo that lay within, and he wished he had the right to present it to her as his beloved. I bought this, my dearest Elizabeth, because it reminded me of you. He would pin it to the bodice of her dress, where the neckline dipped, the cleft of her breasts so enticingly displayed. His face reddened as his eyes naturally strayed to the region in question, until he remembered himself and rapidly returned his gaze to her face.

Now it was Elizabeth's turn to blush. She had seen his gaze, she had guessed his thoughts, and she was not displeased. I must tell Jane of this later, and see whether she persists in encouraging me in my impertinence!

All too soon, the evening came to an end. Both Elizabeth and Darcy were well pleased with the direction the evening had taken, and Georgiana and Jane were quite satisfied with their "pupils'" performance!

"Well done, Fitzwilliam!" Georgiana said as her brother escorted her to her bedchamber. "Tomorrow will only bring better things."

"Yes...well, except for that blasted Clifton," he said.

"Oh believe me, brother, Mr. Clifton was the last person on Miss Bennet's mind tonight! You shall have no problem disposing of him, I am sure!"

"'Disposing of him?' What would you have me do, waylay him with bow and arrow as he approaches on horseback?"

Georgiana laughed, and reached up to kiss her brother's cheek.

"I rather doubt such extreme measures will be necessary, Fitzwilliam! Continue to be as charming to Miss Bennet as you were tonight, and I am sure she will take care of it herself!"

"Georgiana?"

"Yes?"

"Thank you, dearest," Darcy whispered.

"You are most welcome. Sleep well tonight, brother."

Sleep well? As well as I can, knowing my heart's desire sleeps but two rooms away!

"Charles?" Jane asked, as she and her husband lay in bed.

"Mmmm..." he responded, his lips brushing her throat, then drifting downwards to her wondrously full breasts.

"Mr. Clifton proposed to Lizzy this afternoon."

"And she refused him, no doubt."

"How might you know that?"

"I would be a simpleton, Jane, if I could not see how Lizzy and Darcy were looking at each other this evening!"

"I think Darcy might still be concerned about Mr. Clifton, though, Charles, as a possible rival."

"As I said once before, Jane, it might not be a bad thing for Darcy to think he has a rival for Lizzy's affections."

"Perhaps before, Charles, but no longer. Might you be able to somehow communicate to him...?"

"Jane! You astound me! It is bad enough that you know and I know that Clifton has been refused. To tell Darcy as well would be unconscionable. No, Darcy can fend for himself! A little anxiety will do him good."

Even Charles Bingley's charitable nature had its limits. He may have forgiven Darcy's interference in his courtship of Jane, but he would never forget. If Darcy truly loved Elizabeth, he would win her, without his assistance or anyone else's!

"Charles...what do you think about Mr. Clifton and Caroline?"

"Mr. Clifton and Caroline?"

"Would they suit each other?"

In truth, Charles doubted that Caroline suited anyone, but he could hardly speak so of his own sister.

He shrugged. "I suppose...it would do no harm to introduce them, they will both be here for the christening."

"You might want to let Caroline know that Mr. Clifton is a man of good fortune, Charles."

"Are you insinuating, my dear, that my sister's interests tend to the mercenary?"

He tried to sound offended, but his smile betrayed him.

"Be serious, Charles," Jane said, but her husband found it difficult to be serious about anything except making love to his beautiful wife, who was looking up at him indignantly.

"The baby is sleeping, love, and we know not for how long," he whispered, as he untied her nightdress.

Jane soon conceded that their conversation, serious or not, might better be continued at a later date.

The young housemaid, Ellen, was the last to retire at Netherfield that evening.

The china was stored away in the larder, the furniture dusted, the cushions in the drawing room plumped and re-arranged. She was sweeping the hallway carpet when, directly under the rack on which a number of coats hung, she spied a folded sheet of paper. There were two pieces, she discovered, when she bent down to pick it up.

Ellen had little knowledge of reading, but when she unfolded the papers, she immediately recognized one word at the top of the first sheet.

"Elizabeth"

It was a letter, apparently, belonging to the mistress's sister, and Ellen assumed it had fallen from the pocket of her cloak. As it would not do for Miss Elizabeth to think that she had been looking at her private correspondence, she folded the missive into quarters and inserted it into the pocket of Miss Elizabeth's blue cloak. Ellen had a fondness for Mrs. Bingley and her sister. She had never worked for such pleasant and unassuming young ladies, who were so considerate of the staff. Now Mr. Bingley's sisters...that was an entirely different matter! Their arrival was anticipated within the next few days, and Ellen knew her workload during their visit would increase considerably due to their demanding natures.

There. She looked around the hallway, satisfied with the result of her labours. The house was spotless and in order, and all was in readiness for the following day.

Chapter 7

Events on the following morning did not proceed as Mr. Darcy had hoped. Baby Charles was having an exceptionally fussy morning, and Elizabeth ate a quick breakfast so that she could help Jane in calming him. Mr. Darcy barely had time to greet her, share a few minutes with her as she ate, and she was gone. He had hoped, as his sister had instructed, to attach himself to her for the entire day!

By the time she came back downstairs, it was mid-morning and a caller was announced for her.

It was the persistent Mr. Clifton.

"Miss Bennet, might you accompany me in walking the grounds of Netherfield this morning? It is a fine day outside, and I can think of no other whose company I desire more."

Mr. Darcy looked on in abject misery as Elizabeth acquiesced to Mr. Clifton's request. True to his word, Mr. Clifton had arrived at Netherfield well before noon, determined to speak to Miss Bennet alone.

For her part, Elizabeth thought it was best to speak to Mr. Clifton one final time so that she might finally impress upon him that her refusal of his proposal was immutable. It was time for her to be as firm as was necessary to convince him that his sentiments, while appreciated, were not reciprocated.

"Should you not take your cloak, Miss Bennet?" Clifton asked.

"No, sir, I do not intend that we shall be outside long." Elizabeth spoke these last words in a loud enough tone to ensure that Mr. Darcy would hear them. She hoped he realized what she was attempting to communicate to him, that she expected her walk with Mr. Clifton to be a short one. When she returned, she would take the first opportunity that presented itself to speak frankly to Mr. Darcy about those past matters that needed to be discussed before they could determine what their mutual future desires were.

Mr. Darcy took no comfort from her words. He was still so insecure in Elizabeth's regard for him that the thought of her spending even five minutes alone with Mr. Clifton was disquieting! Try as he might to appear undisturbed, he could not resist standing at the window, looking outside as Miss Bennet and Mr. Clifton disappeared from view.

Georgiana came up behind him and touched his shoulder. "All will be well, Fitzwilliam. I believe Miss Bennet knows she must be decisive with Mr. Clifton and for this, she must see him alone. Come, brother, standing by the window will not cause her to return any sooner! Better you should think of what you will say to Miss Bennet after Mr. Clifton takes his leave."

I have already thought of what I must say to Miss Bennet.The letter! Darcy remembered. He had not given it a thought since he left Pemberley.
"Georgiana, there is somethiing I must retrieve from my bedchamber," Darcy said. "I will return shortly."

Before Georgiana could question him, Darcy left the room, but his bedchamber was not his destination. He went to the rack in the foyer where his overcoat hung, and reached into the righthand pocket to retrieve the letter.

It was not there. Darcy, to be sure, checked the other pocket, with no success.

I am positive the letter was in my pocket.

He thought back and realized he had not held the letter in his hands since they left Pemberley. Perhaps it had fallen out oh his pocket in the carriage.

Darcy, with a quick look over his shoulder to ensure he was unobserved, hastily set off for the stables.

His stride brisk and determined, Darcy arrived at his destination within ten minutes. The caretaker thought Darcy's request an odd one as one would think he would have sent a servant on such a mission, but he allowed him into the stable so that he might check inside his carriage.

An exhaustive search of the carriage's interior was fruitless.

Darcy, now thoroughly disturbed, began to walk slowly back to the house. Should that letter fall into the wrong hands...or even the hands of the young lady for whom it was written...damn! He was not yet ready to expose his feelings so thoroughly. Why had he not written the letter merely for the satisfaction that came from the expression of his sentiments, then burned it?

And as though matters were not wretched enough, as Darcy made his way through the woods, he was appalled at the sight of Mr. Clifton, in an attitude of total supplication, on one knee before Miss Bennet.

He was far enough away that they had not seen him, and he considered changing direction so that he might not encounter them. He was convinced that Miss Bennet was on the verge of becoming engaged to Mr. Clifton, and he felt powerless to stop it.

But was he truly powerless? Perhaps it was time he found out.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
As Elizabeth had suspected, Mr. Clifton had decided to renew his proposals that very morning, despite his rejection of the previous day.

He dropped to one knee.

"Miss Bennet, I greatly admire you and enjoy your companionship. There are few women of my acquaintance with your wit and sensibility, and it is time I acquired a wife with whom to share my life and good fortune. Perhaps I am not the most romantic of men, but let me assure you I will honour you as my wife and the mother of my children, and you will want for nothing. You have refused me once, but I must ask you again. Will you do me the honour of accepting my hand?"

The man had expressed no more emotion than if he were buying a horse, Elizabeth thought.

"Mr. Clifton. No."

"Miss Bennet, I beg you to reconsider."

"No." Elizabeth deliberately kept her voice as passionless as his!

"I truly hoped..."

"I suggest you do not hope any longer."

"Miss Bennet, would it not be desirable for you to be settled as mistress of a large estate here in Hertfordshire, so near your family?"

Elizabeth decided she would reply no more. She folded her arms and waited.

At last, he was silent.

Mr. Clifton had finally come to the realization that his was a hopeless cause.

If Mr. Darcy had been close enough to hear Mr. Clifton's appeal to Elizabeth and the words she spoke in response, he would have smiled and continued on his way to the house, secure in the knowledge that, with Mr. Clifton conveniently dismissed, the way was clear for him to launch a campaign of love and devotion so compelling that Miss Bennet would be his bride by summer. But Mr. Darcy's turbulent emotions were not conducive to security, and he acted in a way that was not only uncharacteristic, but that made Elizabeth so angry she wished never to see him again.

He was not thinking rationally; all he could think of was that sycophant Clifton on his knees before Elizabeth...his Elizabeth...and furthermore, what reason did he, Darcy, have to believe her opinion of him had improved, beyond the one civil conversation they had had last evening? Clifton had had the benefit of wooing Miss Bennet for a period of weeks, and of not being an arrogant, insulting ass who threw in her face her family's inadequacies! And not only that, Clifton had been a true friend to Charles Bingley, not one who would seek to deny him the woman he loved. In Darcy's lovesick, jealous mind, Clifton, in fact, was looking better and better.

This litany of self-reproach taunted Darcy as he grew nearer to his beloved and the man who sought to take her from him. He could feel the blood rising to his face, his ears buzzing. Unable to remain in control of his emotions any longer, he grabbed Clifton by his cravat and lifted him to his feet.

"What do you think you are doing, man? I do not want you anywhere near Miss Bennet, do you understand?"
"Mr. Darcy, please!" Elizabeth implored, shocked at his behaviour. "Mr. Clifton was..."

"It was quite apparent what Mr. Clifton was doing, Miss Bennet! Last evening you...I...I assumed..."

"How dare you assume anything, Mr. Darcy? Mr. Clifton has been cordial and polite, and your incivility is shocking. I beg you to leave us and return to the house. Your presence is not welcome!"

Darcy, brought to his senses, released Mr. Clifton, who had not said a word.

He put his hand to his forehead in mortification.

"I apologize, Miss Bennet, Mr. Clifton. I will not inflict myself on you any longer. I wish the both of you every happiness."

He bowed briefly and hastened in the direction of the house.

Mr. Clifton turned to Elizabeth.

"Miss Bennet, if my actions in any way precipitated such an outburst, I sincerely apologize. It is apparent that the gentleman is gripped by an intensity of emotion difficult for me to understand. I envy him his enthusiasm," he said, grimacing as he massaged his throat, where Darcy had clutched him.

"I do not understand you, Mr. Clifton. Two refused proposals, and you appear more resigned than distressed."

He smiled ruefully. "Do not attempt to understand me, Miss Bennet. Just accept my assurances that if anything is lacking, it is on my part and not yours. I will take my leave now."

"Do not leave on my account, Mr. Clifton, or because of Mr. Darcy's barbaric display! I know how much Mr. Bingley values your friendship."

"Do not distress yourself, Miss Bennet. I deeply value Mr. Bingley's friendship, and I will return in a day's time when the situation has cooled. And who knows? I understand Mr. Bingley's unmarried sister will be at the christening celebration, and Bingley has been anxious to introduce us. Again, Miss Bennet, I apologize for the distress I have caused you today."

She stared at him as he left. Had Mr. Clifton just hinted that, having abandoned his pursuit of her, he would proceed to court Miss Bingley, whom he had never even met? Even Mr. Collins had not been as obvious as that!

When Miss Bennet returned to the house, she was alone. She was startled to find Mr. Darcy awaiting her in a grove of trees, a small distance from the house. He stood directly in her way, obstructing her progress.

"You are going to marry him, I suppose."

"Not that it is any of your concern, Mr. Darcy, but as I would not want to see any harm come to Mr. Clifton at your hands, I will tell you that no, I am not going to marry him. I have refused him, not once, but twice. Do you have any other insolent questions you want to ask?"

"Yes," he said, his breath coming hard. "Marry me. Marry me, Elizabeth!"

"That was not a question, that was a demand, Mr. Darcy, from a man who is accustomed to getting everything he wants. No, I will not marry you. There, now you and Mr. Clifton have something in common, you have both been refused twice."

"I love you, Elizabeth," he said, "I have never stopped loving you," and then he pulled her towards him, and with a passion born of a love that had burned inside him for many months, he kissed her.

This, their first kiss, was no gentle caress. His desire and her anger were at odds, and Elizabeth struggled against him, unable to push him away as he held her even more tightly. He did not let her go until he was ready to do so, and then only because he needed to breathe. He stared at her, unable to feel any elation at the triumph of his will over hers, because what he saw in her eyes stopped him cold.

She drew her right arm back and struck him hard, across his cheek.

"You do not love me. You want to possess me, and you never shall. I mean this, Mr. Darcy. We must be civil to each other, as we will stand together as godparents in two days' time, but other than that, we need not speak to each other."

"Elizabeth..."

She did not answer. She turned and walked back to the house, where, pleading a headache, she retired to her bedchamber for the remainder of the day. Darcy watched as she left, then waited a short interval until he himself returned.

Jane and Georgiana received identical answers from their respective siblings when they questioned them as to what had happened between them to cause such a breach in a promising relationship.

"I do not want to talk about it."

Chapter 8

On the day before the christening, Jane Bingley awakened early. A large number of guests were expected today, and she wished to consult with the household staff regarding the arrangements that had to be made. She began to slip out of bed, when a large male hand closed tightly around her wrist.

"Where do you think you are going so early, Mrs. Bingley?" Charles asked sleepily.

"Your sisters, and my parents and sisters are expected today, Charles, and I want to ensure that everything is in readiness."

"I assure you that they will not arrive at daybreak, Jane!"

"There is so much to do, Charles!"

"So much that you cannot spare your poor husband an hour of your time before you steal away, not to be seen for the remainder of the day?" He formed his lips into a most appealing pout and widened his eyes in supplication.

"How you exaggerate, Charles! You know full well that you will see me throughout the day."

"Perhaps, but not in the manner I wish to see you, Jane," he said, smiling suggestively.

"I suppose that I can see to breakfast later..." she began.

"We shall have breakfast in our chambers this morning," he said decisively.

"And the others...?"

"Are not even awake yet," he replied.

"You have thought of everything, have you not?" Jane asked impishly, sinking back onto the bed.

Charles reached for the bell-pull next to the bed, then hesitated.

"Yes. Just one question, though, Jane. Breakfast before, or after?"

"I believe that 'after' will do very well."

An hour later, as the Bingleys finished their breakfast in bed, Charles asked, "Jane, what on earth occurred between your sister and Mr. Darcy? They seemed to be getting along so well until yesterday."

"Charles, I have no more knowledge than you do, but it must be something awful, as Elizabeth refuses to speak of it. I have tried on more than one occasion to question her about it, and she flatly refuses to discuss it."

Charles contemplated his own happy situation, and for the thousandth time thanked the Lord that his wife was such an uncomplicated creature.

"Well, I am sure Darcy did something stupid to cause it! He either made one of his arrogant comments, or disparaged your family, and Elizabeth, to her credit, would not put up with it. I sincerely hope he did not try to force himself upon her, for if he did, I shall have to take him to task about it!"

Jane was shocked. "Oh no, Charles, Mr. Darcy is a perfect gentleman."

"A gentleman, yes, Jane, but perfect? Most emphatically not! If he knew what was good for him, he would tell your sister in no uncertain terms how much she means to him, because she is exactly what he requires to keep his haughtiness in check!"

"They are both of them very unhappy right now, Charles. I do so hate to see it."

"You have done all you can, Jane. It is now entirely up to the two of them."

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Mr. Darcy and Elizabeth managed to avoid each other until lunch, when meeting became inevitable. They positioned themselves at opposite ends of the table, and Elizabeth deliberately sat next to Jane so that she might converse with her sister and not find it necessary to speak to Mr. Darcy. She ate very little, and though Darcy tried not to look at her, he was unable to prevent himself from doing so. He was heartsick at what had occurred the previous day, and he did not know how to bring an end to their estrangement.

Georgiana was so distressed, she considered speaking to Elizabeth herself, but her brother had strictly forbidden it. She was determined, though, that if matters did not improve by tomorrow, she would defy her brother's wishes.

Elizabeth finished her lunch, then excused herself before coffee was served and went into the library. How she longed for a brisk walk outdoors, but the weather was dreadful, rainy and windy, and escaping into the park was not an option.

Caroline Bingley arrived before tea along with her sister and brother-in-law, and the Bennets soon after. Elizabeth then rejoined the party, uncustomarily grateful for even her mother's senseless prattle and Caroline's pointed remarks, because talking to others made it easier for her to ignore Mr. Darcy. Truth be told, she had found herself missing the liveliness of Longbourn as compared to the relative quiet at Netherfield. She joined her parents and sisters in exclaiming over the baby and how much he had grown in the mere seven days since they had seen him last. She stole a glance at Darcy to see how he was bearing up under all the loud chattering and laughter of her mother and sisters, but he seemed unperturbed. Why am I still concerning myself about what he thinks?

She might have been surprised at his thoughts. Elizabeth's large family may have been boisterous, at times to the point of impropriety, but that was far preferable to his own solitude, he thought. He even looked kindly upon Mrs. Bennet, who was almost transformed by her excitement at the birth of her first grandchild. Mr. Bennet, he noted, had abandoned his usual sardonic manner to make faces and odd clucking noises for the amusement of his grandson. Suppressing his own emotions, he thought, had ultimately led to the sort of explosive outburst which yesterday had ruined his chances with Miss Bennet forever.

Georgiana, though shy and far less gregarious than the Bennet sisters, seemed delighted in their company. He had never seen her smile and talk so much to people she had just met. And now, by his actions, he had deprived himself not only of the woman he loved, but his sister of the benefit of an alliance with Elizabeth and her family. How ironic, he thought, that at one time the thought of Georgiana's interaction with the Bennets had prevented him from acknowledging his love for Elizabeth. He had been a fool, through and through.

Caroline Bingley immediately gravitated to Mr. Darcy, rejoicing that any fear she might have had of Mr. Darcy's former partiality toward Elizabeth being rekindled was unfounded. She had been peeved that she had not been asked to be the baby's godmother, as it was she who should have had the opportunity to stand close to Mr. Darcy in church, wearing her finest gown. Interesting, though, that Elizabeth Bennet was deliberately placing herself as far from Mr. Darcy as possible at present.

Being on unfavourable terms with Miss Bennet had not, however, inclined Mr. Darcy to desire to be more intimate with Miss Bingley! Try as she might, Caroline could not get Mr. Darcy to respond in an animated manner to any of her questions or comments. He was polite, and no more.

Mr. Clifton called during tea, and was easily convinced to remain. Caroline's interest was immediately piqued by this eligible stranger, and when her brother made the necessary introductions, she commandeered Mr. Clifton's attention, if for no other reason than to attempt to make Mr. Darcy jealous.

Darcy was gratified to see, at least, that Elizabeth paid Mr. Clifton no special notice and was merely polite in response to his greeting. Mr. Clifton, in turn, had abandoned any hope of winning her affections and did not seem the worse for it. In fact, upon being introduced to Caroline Bingley, he soon conversed with her exclusively and Darcy noted that Elizabeth was undisturbed at this turn of events. She looked at Mr. Clifton no more often than she looked at Darcy himself.

Within 15 minutes of meeting Caroline Bingley, Mr. Clifton had determined that she would be a suitable wife. She was Bingley's sister and well connected, although he would have preferred to marry a gentleman's daughter such as Elizabeth Bennet. Miss Bennet's lack of fortune had been of no consequence to him, since he was himself so well situated. Miss Bingley, he told himself, was reasonably handsome (although the predominance of the colour orange in her attire made him cringe) and seemed pleased with his attentions.

Caroline likewise had decided that as Mr. Clifton was unattached, wealthy, handsome and very fashionably dressed, she would not mind getting to know him better, especially if her interest in him attracted Mr. Darcy's attention. She was pleasantly surprised when Mr. Clifton mentioned her brother's happiness, and how he wished he would be so fortunate in his choice of a bride. No man had ever so openly alluded to marriage with Caroline Bingley before! True, his Hertfordshire estate was not as large or impressive as Pemberley, but as Mr. Darcy seemed pointedly disinterested at the moment in anything save looking out the window, she gave Mr. Clifton her undivided attention.

"Do you have a house in London as well, Mr. Clifton?" she asked.

"Oh yes," he said, "in Belgravia."

Excellent, Caroline thought. Excellent.

"Caroline!" Louisa called. "You have not yet held the baby, come here!"

"Oh, yes, of course," Caroline replied brightly, feigning enthusiasm for Mr. Clifton's sake.

Elizabeth happened to glance in Mr. Clifton's direction while Caroline exclaimed over the baby, and what she saw startled her.

The moment Caroline left him, Mr. Clifton directed his attention toward the divan at the far end of the room, where Jane and Mr. Bingley sat. They were huddled together, oblivious to all others, Jane whispering into Mr. Bingley's ear, and he smiled delightedly as he responded to her comment. Their love and devotion to each other would be apparent to anyone who observed them.

On Mr. Clifton's face was an expression of longing and sadness. It was there for just a moment, and then he recollected himself, and it was gone.

Elizabeth was struck by an alarming thought. Might Mr. Clifton be in love with Jane? Is that why he seemed so determined to marry someone close to Jane and Bingley, so that he might be near her? Convinced now this was the case, Elizabeth felt pity for him. Jane and Bingley were perfectly suited to each other, that was apparent, and how ardently she hoped she might find so perfect a match for herself. Poor Mr. Clifton, to be in love with someone who was so utterly unattainable! Jane was a rare woman, beautiful both inside and out, and any other would be a poor substitute, indeed. Myself included, Elizabeth wryly thought.

At the thought of unrequited love and its unhappy consequences, her eyes were drawn once again to Mr. Darcy. He stood silent and alone near the window, his posture much as she remembered it from his early days in Hertfordshire. They had spoken but little since yesterday's incident in the Netherfield woods, and she knew not what he was thinking. Every time she saw the faint outline of the bruise on his cheek from her angry slap, she felt guilty at having hurt him, despite his unforgivable behaviour.

I am truly beginning to believe that all men are out of their wits! And the more irrational they are, the more inclined they seem to make proposals of marriage to me!

"Such distressing weather," Mrs. Bennet was saying. "So wet and cold, April is such an unpredictable month. I do hope it is fine tomorrow for the christening."

20 April, to be exact, Elizabeth thought. Exactly one year ago today, Mr. Darcy made his first proposal to me at Hunsford!

At the very same moment, the very same thought came to Mr. Darcy, and their eyes were irresistibly drawn to each other.

I will never forget, he thought. The last man in the world she would ever marry, and a year's time has not improved her opinion of me.

Deeply ashamed of his behaviour the previous day, he turned away.

Elizabeth was now certain that tomorrow, after the christening, he and Georgiana would return to Pemberley directly. Mr. Darcy had never really loved her, she was convinced of that now.

Chapter 9

That evening, after dinner, Elizabeth saw Mr. Darcy approach Mr. Clifton, and soon the two gentlemen were talking earnestly. Mr. Darcy did most of the talking as Mr. Clifton listened with a serious expression on his face. When their conversation had ended, Mr. Clifton nodded briefly, and the two shook hands.

How much easier it was, Elizabeth thought, for two gentlemen to mend their fences than it was for a lady and a gentleman! A few words of apology, a handshake, and all was forgiven. Mr. Darcy looked at Elizabeth as though he wished to speak to her, but then her mother approached to inquire as to what Elizabeth planned to wear to the christening on the following day, and the opportunity was lost. He dared not ask to see her alone, as he felt certain she would refuse. On the last occasion they were alone, he had forced himself upon her, and he doubted she was ready to trust him.

Realizing that a private conversation was all but impossible, Darcy sat and pretended to read a book. Georgiana, taking pity on him, sat next to him and attempted to cheer him by speaking quietly to him of the next day's events.

"Brother, do not forget, tomorrow you will be standing next to Miss Bennet as the baby is being christened. I am certain you will have occasion to speak to her privately at some time during the day. Please, Fitzwilliam, do not abandon hope! What happened between the two of you to cause such a rift?"

"I cannot speak of it, Georgiana, as it will lower your opinion of me considerably. Suffice to say that what happened between us was totally and utterly my fault. It seems that whenever I see the woman I love, I do and say things for which I must beg forgiveness. How much forgiveness can one man ask?"

"As much as is necessary! I believe that being in love has caused you to behave irrationally at times, Fitzwilliam, and perhaps in some ways that is a good thing. You have allowed yourself to be ruled entirely by reason in the past, and now, perhaps, your emotions are overwhelming. Just tell her the depth of your feeling!"

"I tried, and I failed, miserably."

"So try again! If not tonight, then tomorrow."

"Nothing will change by tomorrow, Georgiana."

"Might I speak to her, Fitzwilliam? It will be easier for me, as a woman..."

"Absolutely not! What kind of man would she think me, allowing a sister of 17 to act as an emissary?"

Georgiana sighed. Her brother's stubborness was frustrating, indeed. She noticed Elizabeth looking towards them and she called out to her.

"Miss Elizabeth! My brother and I are discussing tomorrow's christening service, does it begin at 1 or 2 o'clock?"

"1 o'clock, Miss Darcy."

"I do hope the weather improves. It would be a shame if it were as wet and dreary as it is today, would it not, Fitzwilliam?"

"Yes," he said, and he looked at Elizabeth so plaintively that she acted just as Georgiana had hoped she would, and moved towards them, seating herself next to Georgiana.

"Will you excuse me, while I get some coffee?" Georgiana quickly asked. Darcy stared at her as she left. Georgiana, he knew full well, did not drink coffee!

"My sister believes we should be speaking, Miss Bennet."

Elizabeth merely nodded.

"Miss Bennet, I must beg your forgiveness for my behaviour yesterday. I have already made my apologies to Mr. Clifton, and he was most gracious."

"My own behaviour was hardly irreproachable, Mr. Darcy. I should not have struck you."

"I deserved that, and worse, Miss Bennet."

"Mr. Darcy, I suppose now is as good a time as any to speak of the events of last year. I owe you a debt of gratitude, sir. By your frank disclosures regarding Mr. Wickham, you may have saved my younger sister from heartbreak and disgrace. And I know full well how much Jane and Charles owe their happiness to you."

"I was only undoing the previous wrong I had done them, Miss Bennet, that is all. I deserve no thanks for that."

Having said what was required, they each regarded the other warily.

"Eliza Bennet! What do you mean by monopolizing Mr. Darcy so shamelessly?" It was Caroline Bingley, peeved that Mr. Clifton's attentions to her were going unnoticed by Mr. Darcy. Georgiana, talking to Jane and Charles, found it difficult to conceal her dislike for Miss Bingley, whose efforts to separate her brother from Elizabeth were transparent, indeed.

"Come here, Mr. Clifton!" Caroline said. "I am sure Mr. Darcy would be pleased to tell us of his travels on the Continent."
Mr. Clifton immediately joined the little group, and Caroline simpered and flirted with him, as Darcy ignored her. Georgiana caught her brother's eye from across the room and smiled. Darcy shook his head almost imperceptibly, then raised his eyebrows, but he felt it difficult to be annoyed with his sister when her simple tactics had succeeded in causing Elizabeth Bennet to speak to him again, however briefly.

As it happened, Mr. Darcy was not at all pleased with the prospect of speaking with anyone but Elizabeth Bennet, but it seemed that on Miss Bennet's part, at least, their conversation had reached its logical end. She did not seem disturbed at the prospect of being joined by the others. Having fulfilled what she saw as her obligation to thank him for his actions of last year, perhaps she was relieved, he thought, that she had no further need to talk to him alone.

He had had just a few moments' conversation with Elizabeth Bennet, but at least they were speaking again.

Mr. Clifton prepared to leave for the evening. He bid Miss Bingley and the rest of the party good night, but then he turned to Elizabeth.

"Might I have a word with you, Miss Bennet, before I depart?" he asked.

Elizabeth looked at him quizzically. Surely the man did not intend...?

"Fear not, Miss Bennet," he whispered. "I have no intention of pressing you on that matter we discussed yesterday."

Elizabeth was intrigued as to what Mr. Clifton wanted to discuss with her, and she accompanied him to the door. Mr. Darcy's eyes followed them as they left the room.

"I cannot imagine what you wish to discuss with me, Mr. Clifton, and I am certain you have awakened the curiosity of others in the party as well," she said.

She did not add that Miss Bingley had looked at her with eyes like daggers when Mr. Clifton made his request! Not so much because she feared the loss of Mr. Clifton's regard, but because she had seen how Elizabeth's leaving with Mr. Clifton affected Mr. Darcy!

"Perhaps it is none of my concern, Miss Bennet, but I truly like you and wish to see you happily situated. I regret that the two of us could not come to some understanding, but, upon further contemplation, perhaps that was for the best.

"Miss Bennet, no one understands better than I how painful it is to long for something unattainable, which is perhaps why I have much sympathy for your gentleman friend. Mr. Darcy, as I am sure you noted earlier, came to me to apologize for his behaviour of yesterday. It is quite surprising that he should have acted in such an intemperate manner, as he seems to be a gentleman of dignity and great reserve. I believe he surprised even himself with his actions.
"What I am trying to say, and perhaps I am out of order in doing so, is that a man like Mr. Darcy would conduct himself in a manner so out of character for him only as a result of the strongest and most passionate of attachments. The kind of passion that, perhaps, would make for a happier marriage than you would have had with someone like myself. I believe a marriage of companionship and friendship would not be sufficient for you, Miss Bennet."

Elizabeth smiled at him kindly. The man was more perceptive than she had thought.

"But perhaps it would be sufficient for you, Mr. Clifton?"

He nodded, realizing she was referring to his courtship of Caroline Bingley.

"Yes, Miss Bennet, and if it suits the lady in question as well, it would be a happy situation for all concerned."

"I thank you for your concern on Mr. Darcy's behalf, Mr. Clifton," she said with a cheeky grin.

"I am just trying to be helpful to a friend, Miss Bennet! Good night," he said, and he took his leave.

Darcy had not sat down the entire time Miss Bennet was absent from the room. The five minutes she had been gone were interminable for him, and when she finally returned, cheerful and composed, he was noticeably relieved.

They had no opportunity to speak for the remainder of the evening, but Darcy was cautiously optimistic. Things had improved slightly since yesterday, he consoled himself. Last evening at this time, she would not even look at him, let alone speak to him.

Tomorrow, because of the christening, he would be partnered with her for most of the day. He hoped and prayed he could take advantage of this rare opportunity so that he might soon be partnered with her for the rest of his life.

His letter had disappeared, and with it, his script for what he had wished to express to Miss Bennet. He grimaced at the thought that it lay somewhere undetected, either at his London house or somewhere along the road to Pemberley, and that anyone who came upon it would have access to his most intimate thoughts.

He had written those words in a frenzy of passion and desire, and hoped he could find the words tomorrow to ease his way into Elizabeth's heart. He would weigh his words carefully and hope she would be willing to listen.

"Good night, Miss Bennet," he said formally as the party prepared to retire for the evening.

How cautious he seems now, Elizabeth thought with some disappointment. What is wrong with me? When he kissed me and demanded I marry him, I slapped him, and now I am disappointed with his gentlemanlike behaviour!
Mr. Darcy, had he been a mindreader, would have happily reverted to his uninhibited behaviour of the previous day, but as he had no such telepathic powers, he contented himself with one last glimpse of his beloved before he ascended the stairs to his bedchamber.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Jane was determined to have a word with her sister that night, no matter how unwilling Elizabeth might be. She knocked on Lizzy's bedroom door as she prepared for bed.

"Lizzy, you have been secretive for far too long!"

"Jane, I cannot..."

"Lizzy, listen to me. Just two days ago, I was convinced you were pining for Mr. Darcy. The two of you seemed to be getting along so well! I realize Mr. Clifton's attentions might have caused Mr. Darcy some consternation. Lizzy, when you went walking with him, poor Mr. Darcy stood at the window watching the two of you as though...Lizzy, he looked so much like a sad little boy, my heart nearly broke for him! He went after you, did he not?"

"Yes, he did, Jane."

"And something occurred which made you exceedingly angry with him, will you admit that much?"

"Yes."

"Concerning Mr. Clifton?"

"Yes, Jane. He came upon Mr. Clifton renewing his addresses."

"He renewed his addresses? After only one day?"

"Yes, it is absurd, is it not?"

"Oh, dear. How did Mr. Darcy react?"

"Oh, not very well, Jane! I was very angry with him. He was entirely too forward with Mr. Clifton, and with me, as well."

"With you, Lizzy? Did he take advantage of you in any way?"

Elizabeth thought it best not to be too explicit.

"Let us just say he did not behave as decorously as he ought. But no, Jane, he did nothing to warrant Charles calling him out!"
"Lizzy, what is it that you truly want? Do you love Mr. Darcy?"

"I do not rightly know, Jane. It has been a very turbulent week, and if Mr. Darcy thought he loved me three days ago, I am not sure what he feels now."

"Thought he loved you? Not sure what he feels now? Elizabeth Bennet, you are a fool if you cannot see that man adores you. No, Lizzy, it is you who must search inside yourself and discover how you really feel."

"You are so wise, Jane. Well, at least we may rejoice that I finally seem to have rid myself of Mr. Clifton! By the looks of it, Caroline might well be Mrs. Clifton before summer is out!"

"Poor Mr. Clifton," Jane sighed.

Yes, indeed, Elizabeth thought. Poor Mr. Clifton, to be in love with as perfect a creature as my sister, and having to settle for the likes of Caroline Bingley!

Chapter 10

"Oh no, Lizzy," Jane scolded. "The sun might be shining today, but there is a chill in the air. You cannot go out without a cloak!"

She removed the garment in question from the coat rack and handed it to her sister, who had been prepared to leave for church wearing just her spencer.

"Yes, little Mama," Lizzy teased, as she put it on. It made Jane happy, and Caroline Bingley as well, Jane because of her concern for Lizzy's health, and Caroline because Elizabeth Bennet looked far too fetching in her new sky blue frock, a fact which had already been noted with appreciation by Mr. Darcy.

"You must button up your cloak for it to be effective, Eliza," Caroline said smoothly.

She did so, but it made her no less appealing to the gentleman in question. Elizabeth could have been wearing a monk's robe, and it would not have mattered one whit to Mr. Darcy. His eyes rarely left her, from the moment she came into the breakfast room, until she went upstairs to assist Jane in dressing the baby, and now, as they left for church. They bid each other a pleasant good morning, but further conversation felt awkward.

All those in the christening party sat in the first two pews of the church, Elizabeth and Darcy at either end of the first row. Mr. Darcy leaned forward slightly and turned his head so that he might see her face, and Elizabeth turned away, her eyes filling with sudden tears. What is wrong with me?

She reached into her pocket to find her handkerchief, but her hand closed around what felt like a folded piece of paper. She blinked back her tears and frowned, not remembering having placed any such article therein, and she withdrew what seemed to be a letter.

The letter was unsealed, and her name peeked out from the top of the folded page. She recognized the handwriting immediately as that of Mr. Darcy. She had read his letter of last year often enough that she would know that elegant script anywhere.

She unfolded the letter, slipped it within the pages of her prayer book and began to read.

"My dearest Elizabeth,"

"I address you thus because it is what you are and will always be to me. Mine. Dearest."

She snapped the book shut, fearful her face would betray her, but after a few moments, she felt compelled to open it again.

"... If only it were true, that the foolish things I said, expecting my words to woo you, were never said and I could begin anew. ..."

He had tried, had he not? To begin anew? Why had things gone so terribly wrong?

"You must allow me to tell you how ardently I admire and love you. Do you remember? If only you could obliterate from your memory the words that preceded these, dearest Elizabeth. Had you not heard those other cutting words first, would these have been more pleasing to you? What kind of man would preface a declaration of love with words that defile that love?..."

Of course I remember! I could never forget! When another man made his tepid declarations of affection, how could I not compare his words to those, no matter how inappropriate the words that preceded and followed them.

"This man emphatically would not, would he be so fortunate as to be given an opportunity to make his declarations again..."

Twice he has declared himself, once reluctantly, once whole-heartedly (albeit inappropriately), and twice I have rejected him. What man would be so foolish as to ask a third time?

"...Most everything in my life has come easily to me, except the one thing I desire most. I sense that I have only one chance, that if we do not come to some understanding, or the beginning of some kind of tentative friendship, we will part never to meet again..."

She closed the book again and thought about those last words. Just a few more hours remained to them, and then he would be gone, with matters unresolved. Oh yes, they might meet again, in the summer perhaps, but suddenly, that seemed far too long to wait. And that is why, she thought, in the manner of one coming into the light, that he acted as precipitously as he did. He thought it his final opportunity, before I might accept Mr. Clifton and be lost to him.

The smiling vicar summoned them to the baptismal font as Elizabeth hastily read the remainder of the letter.

"I love you, Elizabeth, more today than ever, even more because of the harsh words you spoke that I needed to hear. You made me see myself ... I cannot love another... I am lost without you...

"...Look at me when we hold that baby over the christening font, and you will know how much I wish it were our baby, yours and mine. It is unimaginable to me to face life without you..."

"Can you ever love me? You have stripped me of all pretensions. What I have, what I can give you, what I can do for your family, you knew all this and it was not good enough for you because the man who offered these things to you was not good enough. God bless you for making me know this, because if ever you do accept me, I will know I have been given the gift of your love."

She would have wept had she been alone. The proud Mr. Darcy, who once thought himself too good for her, now declared himself not good enough.

Jane whispered, "Lizzy, you seem in another world, it is time to christen little Charles."

"Oh, I am sorry Jane," Elizabeth replied, closing the prayer book and placing it on the seat of the pew, and getting to her feet to join the others.

Jane stared at her suspiciously. Why was Lizzy blushing so?

"Look at me when we hold that baby over the christening font, and you will know how much I wish it were our baby, yours and mine."

How can I look at him after reading those words? And in the house of the Lord?

Mr. Darcy watched Elizabeth as the baby was initiated into the rites of the Church. As he had predicted in his letter, he found himself imagining the two of them bringing their own offspring to the baptismal font, but it was not the physical act that would engender such an occurrence that he contemplated. (Lord only knows he had thought of that often enough, in private!)

It was the cleansing and rebirth that baptism signified that he thought of this afternoon. He did not think it overly dramatic to reflect that his love for Elizabeth had been a rebirth of sorts. He was a different man than he had been a year ago. A better man, he hoped.

Elizabeth finally dared to raise her eyes from the face of little Charles, squalling now as he was anointed, to Mr. Darcy's face. The slightest of smiles graced her lips.

How sweetly she smiles at me. What is she thinking? Does she, too, recognize this moment?

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
A late luncheon was served at Netherfield following the christening ceremony. Jane smilingly accepted all compliments on Baby Charles's christening finery and his exemplary behaviour in church, and family and friends sat together in the dining hall until well after 3 o'clock.

Elizabeth was quieter than usual. She could think of nothing but Darcy's letter. For the first time, she realized the depth of his love for her. His natural reserve had prevented him from expressing himself adequately to her during the past few days, and when he had tried, he merely blurted out his feelings (I love you! Marry me!) and acted rashly, almost violently. How unfairly she had dismissed him, accusing him of motivations for his actions that were ignoble.

But when he expressed himself in writing, he laid his heart open to her and did not hesitate to admit his own shortcomings. He still loved her. His love had survived their disastrous encounter at Rosings and a year's separation. Not only had it survived, it had matured, because Darcy now saw not only the object of his affection, he saw himself. Perhaps it was time for Elizabeth to see herself as well.

Now she realized Darcy was of a temperament that complemented hers perfectly. It was why, from the very beginning, she had felt something between them, something that might have sometimes angered her, but something she could never ignore.

I love him, Elizabeth realized. She had come late to this realization, but was it too late? His love had survived much, but she feared it might not have survived her words and actions of the past two days.

She tried to talk to him throughout the afternoon, but they were surrounded by others, and frank conversation was impossible. He looked so dreadfully unhappy, and her heart ached because she knew she was the source of his despair. She had smiled at him in church, and for a moment something had flickered in his eyes, but there, they had been unobserved, while now Miss Bingley was watching their every interaction.

Georgiana cast a worried eye on her brother. He and Miss Bennet had been speaking, but in a very guarded manner, all afternoon. Could he not see, as she did, that Miss Bennet was in love with him?

Just when she thought it would be entirely up to her to engineer a private meeting for the lovesick pair, Mr. Clifton inadvertently came to her assistance.

"Miss Bingley, as the weather is fine, would you care to take a turn around the park?" Mr. Clifton asked.

Caroline's eyes darted towards Mr. Darcy. Did she detect a spark of interest there?

"That would be lovely, Mr. Clifton," she responded.

"Miss Elizabeth and I shall join you!" Georgiana said. I know how much you have been longing to be out of doors, Miss Elizabeth! Miss Kitty? Miss Lydia? Would you care to come along?"

Lydia agreed, while Kitty declined, as she was occupied with amusing the baby.

Mr. Clifton and Caroline had already left the room and were putting on their coats, when Georgiana addressed Darcy.

"Brother, will you not join us as well? Come, the exercise will be beneficial, we have been sitting indoors far too long."

When the four of them got outside, Mr. Clifton and Miss Bingley were already well ahead of them in the lane. They walked for some time, until Georgiana exclaimed, "Miss Lydia, will you not show me the lane that leads to Meryton? I have heard you all speak of it so often."

"It is a long distance, Miss Georgiana!"

"Oh we need not walk all the way into town. Please?"

Lydia was won over by Georgiana's enthusiasm. Darcy, well aware that Georgiana had never expressed such a penchant for long walks in the past, could have kissed her.

"Well, I suppose we might," Lydia said. "Will you and Mr. Darcy join us, Lizzy?"

Georgiana opened her mouth to speak, but Mr. Darcy spoke first.

"I thank you, no. The two of you might have private matters to discuss," he answered, with a tolerant smile.

As do the two of you, Georgiana thought gleefully.

Her mission accomplished, Georgiana set off with Lydia, saying a silent prayer. Dear Lord, please let him consider his words before he speaks!
Elizabeth and Mr. Darcy walked for some minutes in silence.

"One of us must say something, Mr. Darcy, so let me inquire if you are apprehensive about your sister's association with Lydia. Lydia can be a bit forward, I know!"

He stopped walking and turned toward her, arms folded.

"If I had been apprehensive, Miss Bennet, I would have forbidden it. As it is, I rather think your family's exuberance has been a good influence on my sister."

"So your opinions have changed, then?"

"I believe they have. And might I ask...have yours?"

Elizabeth paused, while she decided what to say.

"Mr. Darcy?" Elizabeth said softly.

"Yes, Miss Bennet?"

"I read your letter this afternoon."

"I wish you would have burned it."

"Burned it? Why would you wish that, Sir? Do your sentiments no longer apply?" she said, on the point of tears.

"It was written a year ago, Miss Bennet, in a most dreadful bitterness of spirit. I do not understand why you have kept it so long."

"Kept it so long? Mr. Darcy, this letter could not have been written a year ago, as it refers to the christening of the baby."

She took it from her pocket and held it out to him.

"Where did you find this letter, Miss Bennet?" he asked, shocked.

"In the pocket of my cloak, where you placed it, Mr. Darcy!"

"I did not place it there, and it was in my own coat pocket just two days ago, Miss Bennet, of that I can assure you!"

"I assure you, Mr. Darcy, had I been wearing your coat rather than mine, I would have noted the fact. I am positive I would have been tripping on its length!"
"It was not meant for you to read, Miss Bennet."

"It was addressed to me, Sir. If you had not wanted me to read it, why was it written?"

"I wrote it for myself. So that I might know how to address you in private, should I have been so fortunate to have the opportunity. " He shook his head. "I am certain you remember how well I did in my endeavours to address you, Miss Bennet, and I have the bruise to prove it!"

"I should not have done that, Mr. Darcy."

"Yes, you should have. My conduct was unpardonable."

"Perhaps not," she whispered.

"Miss Bennet, I..." he began, not trusting himself.

"We are alone now, Mr. Darcy, and you have the opportunity to speak," Elizabeth said, amazed at her own boldness.

"Yes, we are," he said, "and still I fear saying the wrong thing!"

"But Mr. Darcy," she answered. "All that you wrote...was so right, Sir! Might you need your own written words to remind you?" she said, gently teasing him and handing him the letter.

He shook his head.

"All those words, Elizabeth, amount to one thing. I love you. I have loved you for so long that it has become second nature, like eating and sleeping and breathing. I cannot seem to speak to you without making matters worse, so if my written words are more pleasing to you, it ..."

"I love you, Mr. Darcy."

"...might be better if I wrote more and spoke less. What did you...? Say it again, Elizabeth!"

"I love you, Mr. Darcy."

"Again, but this time ... might you call me by my given name?"

His hands were grasping her shoulders.

"I love you, William," she whispered. "Marry me?" she said hopefully.

He appeared stunned.
"I could hardly expect you to ask a third time, William. You can refuse me if you like, as I will only ask again!"

"Oh, no," he said. "You have been far too easily swayed both toward and away from me these past days, Lizzy, for me to trust that you will ask again, so not only do I answer you with an emphatic 'yes,' I plan on shouting it out so that all will know, and you cannot easily renege on your offer! If only I had the license, I would hasten back to church and convince the vicar to marry us today!"

"Are you not going to kiss me, William?" she teased.

He shook his head solemnly. "I do not dare. I do not wish to risk a bruise on my right cheek to match that on the left, Elizabeth!"

"So it is up to me, then, to initiate the kissing as well as make the proposal?"

"Mmmm...perhaps not, if you promise not to inflict any additional violence on my person."

The promise was easily given, and the lady was soundly and repeatedly kissed.

"I have a gift for you, Lizzy," he said, eyes shining. "Something I found in Italy, which reminded me of you."

He reached into his breast pocket and withdrew the cameo brooch.

"You see, dearest," he said, his voice heavy with emotion. "I have been carrying you close to my heart. I was determined it would not leave my pocket until I had earned the privilege of pinning it on you."

With awkward hands, he pinned the brooch on the left flap of her cloak.

"From my heart, to yours," he said simply.

"William, I have been so foolish..." she tried to speak, only to be gathered back into his arms for another expression of his ardour.

"I am tired of speaking, Elizabeth. Humour me," he said wickedly, as his mouth covered hers again.

Unable to restrain herself, Caroline Bingley turned around at just that moment, Clifton a moment after her.

"Look the other way, Miss Bingley,"

"It is disgraceful! Just look at them!"
"You have looked quite enough. Turn around!" he said, more assertively than he had ever spoken to her before.

Caroline was furious. But, as ever, she was practical.

"A disgraceful manner in which to conduct themselves, do you not think so? I am gratified, Mr. Clifton, that you are observant of all the proprieties."

"Yes," he said somewhat bitterly. "That I am."

She linked her arm through his.

"So tell me more about your house in London, Mr. Clifton. Do you prefer town to the country?"

"I have learned, Miss Bingley, to make the best of things wherever I may be. I highly recommend such an attitude."

Her mind made up, Caroline Bingley did not turn around to look at Darcy and Elizabeth again. Her eyes faced forward for the remainder of their walk

Chapter 11

Elizabeth and Darcy walked for close to an hour, not knowing in what direction. Darcy tried, inarticulately at first, to explain to her how valuable she was to him. His feelings, first suppressed, then expressed in a manner so disagreeable that it had caused a painful year-long estrangement, were now related to her so simply and beautifully and poignantly that Elizabeth found it difficult to meet his eyes. He spoke of his anger after Hunsford, and of how he had turned that anger against himself. He told her how much he regretted having spoken to her in a way that devalued her, when she was the most valuable person in his life.

"I was brought up," he said, "to think meanly of others in comparison to myself. And such I might still have been but for you, dearest, loveliest Elizabeth."

At that, she forced herself to meet his gaze, so that he might see her joy.

"I told you I loved you at Hunsford, Elizabeth, but I do not believe I even knew what true love was then. I despised myself for loving you!"

He looked at her anxiously. "Should I have admitted that? I thought myself weak for loving you, yet your rejection and your harsh commentary on my character made me stronger. Oh, I did not know it then, I was wounded and angry, but soon, I began to see the truth of your words. I was so ashamed that I felt compelled to go away, Elizabeth. I had not behaved in a gentleman-like manner, as you so aptly told me. You cannot know how often I have relived that moment, or how those words tortured me. And worst of all, I came to know I had hurt you. I remembered your face, the shock, the pain, and I had to face the awful reality that it was I -- I, who claimed to love you! -- who had put it there.

"And that was when I came to know true love, Elizabeth, because then, for the first time, your feelings were more important to me than my own. I was a better man for having known you, and for having been rejected by you, and I only hoped I would be able to come to you and prove how much you meant to me. Bingley's letter was the catalyst, but I am certain that had he not written, I would have found my way to Hertfordshire very soon anyway."

Elizabeth stopped and slipped her arms around his waist.

"I am far from blameless, William. I believed the worst of you with so little evidence."

"I am not surprised, Elizabeth. Wickham excels at deception, and my manners were deplorable, so why should you not believe the worst!"

"How easily you exonerate me, whilst assuming so much blame yourself!"

"But I was the one who claimed to love, Elizabeth."

"I think it is time, William," she said gently, "to put the past behind us. As of this moment!"

Darcy agreed. "I have said what needed to be said, and now all that remains is to tell you how much I love you. Truly love you, Elizabeth, with all my heart."

"And I love you, William. You are best man I have ever known."

He bent down to kiss her, then offered her his arm, so that they might continue to walk. So much had been said that they were now silent, and merely touching was communication enough.

Every now and then Darcy turned to look at her, an expression of joyous disbelief illuminating his features, and to convince himself that she was, in truth, in love with him, he pulled her towards him and kissed her. After this occurred a half dozen times, Elizabeth decided to lighten the mood and playfully asked him what he was about, taking such liberties, when at any moment Miss Bingley or Mr. Clifton might turn around and observe his indecorous behaviour.

"I kiss you so often, Elizabeth, because I have just now come to know that my kisses are welcome and my sentiments are returned. I only seek to reassure myself, as this happy state of affairs is so novel I cannot help but take advantage of it!"

"That was an exceedingly wordy way of saying that you know you can kiss me with impunity now, Sir, with no risk of having your face slapped!"

"I believe you are teasing me, Elizabeth."

"Yes I am, Willliam, and you had better become accustomed to it as I intend to do it often. And while you are still quite susceptible to my charms and unlikely to take offense at my teasing, I might as well ask why you were so taciturn yesterday and gave me so little encouragement!"

"Perhaps because my overtures of the previous day were so soundly rejected!"

"How like you, William, to have so logical an answer to so illogical a question. Still, you might have spoken more!"

"A man who had felt less might."

"Had Georgiana not lured me to your side and then left in search of an imaginary cup of coffee, we might still be circling each other warily rather than conducting ourselves in this very improper manner."

Her eyes were sparkling, her lips pursed together, suppressing a smile, and he nudged them open with his own.

"I thought it was past time for another kiss, Elizabeth."

"You will only encourage my impertinence by rewarding it in that manner, William!"

"I will risk it," he said, kissing her again. Having restrained himself for so long, he was unable to prevent himself from touching her, so he took her hand in his, kissed it, then tucked it under his arm.

"There," he said. "So that you may not so easily escape."

"You will find me a very willing prisoner, William. I am completely under your power."

"Let us see about that, Elizabeth," he said, swiftly steering her behind the wide trunk of a most conveniently located tree, effectively blocking them from view, even if Miss Bingley or Mr. Clifton had chanced to turn around.

"My prisoner..." he mused, taking both her hands in his and pinning them up against the tree, above her head. He leaned forward and kissed her again, first on her mouth, then, with his hands occupied holding hers, he used his lips to caress her, brushing them softly against her ear and down the side of her neck. He moved closer, pressing his body hard against hers.

"Oh, Lizzy, have you any idea how much I have longed for this day?"

"Free my hands, William," she whispered. "I want to touch you."

He released her hands, but not before he brought each to his lips to kiss them.

Elizabeth placed her palms against his cheeks and stared at him, as though seeing his face for the first time.

She played with the unruly curls that graced his temples. "Even when I disliked you, I always found you so beautiful, Fitzwilliam. Disturbingly so!"

He smiled as she put her arms around his neck.

"I do not now know whether I should be flattered that you found my appearance disturbing, Elizabeth. Am I disturbing to you now?"

"Oh, exceedingly so, Sir. More so than ever," she said, her face reddening.

"I am glad of it. In some small measure it avenges the effect you had on me, from the very first time I met you."

"How so?"

"Let us just say that the effect on a man is far more pronounced and more difficult to conceal when he is overcome with a woman's beauty. And in your case, Elizabeth, it was far more than physical beauty that captivated me. Your demeanour was, and is, enchanting."

"You might as well call it impertinence, for that is what it was! And is," she teased, running her fingers once again through his dark curls.

"Liveliness," he insisted, pulling her tightly to him again.

"Insolence," she murmured, nuzzling her face against his chest.

"I never found you insolent, dearest Elizabeth."

"I was speaking of you, not me," she said, lifting her head to look at him, an impish gleam in her eyes.

"Are you deliberately trying to provoke me, Lizzy?" he asked, trying to keep his expression stern and failing miserably.

"Not at all," she said, laughing as he swept her up into his arms and twirled around out of sheer exuberance. "Just pointing out that you are not a man without fault, contrary to the opinion expressed by a certain adoring young woman who walks ahead of us on the path! Quite far ahead of us now, Fitzwilliam, you had better put me down so we can catch up and save my reputation!"

"Just for today, dearest, I am far more inclined to want to risk your reputation than save it . And in case the news of our scandalous behaviour reaches Netherfield before we do, I intend to speak to your father the moment we get back." He set her back on her feet and looked at her seriously.

"You do not think your father will have any objection?"

"I might have to convince him that I like you far better than I did a year ago! But that should not be difficult, love, as my affection will be apparent every time I look at you. I love you so very much, William."

"Lizzy, just one day ago I believed I would never hear you say those sweet words. Say them to me often. I will never tire of hearing them."

"I love you, William. Kiss me again."

He pulled her closer and gently pressed his lips to hers.

"No, William, kiss me properly. While we are still concealed, before we go back to the house."

Darcy was unable to resist such an invitation. His right arm around her waist, his left around her shoulders, he held her body firmly against his. Elizabeth responded by wrapping her own arms around his neck. They stood thus connected for some moments while Darcy stared first into her eyes, then allowed his eyes to leisurely roam towards her full lips, then back to her eyes again.

"Are you prepared for a proper kiss, Lizzy?"

"Yes," she replied, though in truth, she was not quite sure what a "proper kiss" entailed.

Darcy set about demonstrating the procedure for her. He gently bit first her upper, then her lower lip, then teased her mouth with his tongue. He covered her mouth with his, enclosing it within his lips, then slid his tongue back and forth, pressing lightly, urging her lips open.

Elizabeth sighed and closed her eyes, the weight of her body suddenly burdensome to her. Her grasp on his neck tightened, and she leaned back into his arms so that he effectively was holding her upright. She slid her tongue into his mouth, and he began to slowly encircle it with his own, while his lips continued to massage her mouth. As she melted into his embrace, Darcy lowered his right hand so that it cupped her buttocks, and he pulled her even more tightly against him, so that the lower half of his body was pressing into hers. Even through his overcoat, she could feel the outline of his erection against her belly. Ah yes, she thought, that is the "effect" of which he spoke. Difficult to conceal, indeed! She knew that she should put an end to such proceedings, but she found she was incapable of it. There was a pleasurable sensation in her nether regions that she sensed would become even more pleasurable if he continued in this vein.

"There," he finally said hoarsely, as he released her. "That was a proper kiss."

"If that was a proper kiss, William, I fear what an improper one might be."

"An improper kiss shall be the subject of another lesson, Lizzy."

"Might we begin the lesson now, dearest?"

"I think not. Such a lesson will require a setting far more intimate than this one." And a state of considerable undress, he thought, dwelling for a few moments on the parts of her luscious body he would kiss improperly.

Chapter 12

Georgiana and Lydia had returned to Netherfield a full half hour before Elizabeth and Darcy strolled in, followed a few minutes later by Caroline Bingley and Mr. Clifton. Georgiana studied her brother's face, and although he tried mightily to remain inscrutable, he could not contain his jubilation, and soon a wide smile covered his face.

"Fitzwilliam...Miss Elizabeth...are you...dare I hope?" she asked.

Elizabeth was touched by Georgiana's concern, and she smiled and nodded.

"Yes, we are, but not a word about it, until I speak to Mr. Bennet," Darcy answered. "Miss Bennet has proposed, and I have accepted, and..."

"Brother!" Georgiana exclaimed. "Miss Elizabeth is a good influence, indeed! You are engaged but an hour, and already you speak in jest!"

"Do you see, Miss Bennet?" Darcy said with a mischievious grin, "I speak the truth and I am not believed. What am I to do?"

"You are to speak to my father, Fitzwilliam. Ignore your brother, Miss Georgiana, he is rather giddy tonight!" She raised her eyebrows and shook her head in mock consternation. "Come, I will take you to my father," and she whispered to him as they walked away, "You are incorrigible! Do not look so pleased with yourself!"

The couple approached Mr. Bennet and Mr. Darcy quietly asked him for a private audience in the library. Mr. Bennet looked from his daughter's face to Mr. Darcy's and instantly knew.

"Lizzy?" he asked in amazement.

"We will talk later, Papa," she said gently, as he left with Mr. Darcy.

Mr. Darcy was determined to speak the truth to Mr. Bennet, but he did not think it wise to tell him, as he had jokingly told Georgiana, that Elizabeth had proposed to him. So he chose his words carefully.

"Mr. Bennet, your daughter Elizabeth has done me the supreme honour of agreeing to become my wife. I love her deeply, Sir, and I ask your blessing."

"Does my daughter love you, Mr. Darcy? Forgive me if I seem dubious. If she does love you, this is a rather amazing change of heart!"

"And no one knows that better than myself, Sir. I proposed to Miss Elizabeth last spring in Kent, and was soundly refused. Deservedly refused. I returned to Hertfordshire determined to improve her opinion of me and win her love, and I am overjoyed to report that I have been successful."

He thought it best not to mention his second, unsuccessful proposal and its painful results!

Mr. Bennet contemplated the very apprehensive young man who stood before him. Had he heard correctly? The dour Mr. Darcy referring to himself as “overjoyed?”

And wonder of wonders -- Mr. Darcy had already proposed to Elizabeth a year ago and been refused! And his Lizzy had not breathed a word of it to her family; well, perhaps Jane had some knowledge of it, he thought. Lizzy, always his favourite among his daughters, rose even higher in his estimation. Mr. Darcy was considered the most desirable bachelor in all of Derbyshire, and Lizzy had turned him down. And knowing his daughter's frankness, Mr. Bennet had no doubt that Mr. Darcy had been told in no uncertain terms why he was being refused. For a gentleman who was most certainly unaccustomed to being denied anything he desired to be humbled by his daughter - and to return a year later to win her esteem at the risk of being humbled yet again - was astounding. Mr. Darcy's persistence and his recognition of Elizabeth's worth went a long way toward earning Mr. Bennet's respect.

He found it impossible to deny his consent to a young man who obviously loved his daughter very much, as long as he could reassure himself that his sentiments were returned by Elizabeth.

Mr. Bennet sighed. "Mr. Darcy, you express yourself eloquently, and I will give you my consent, after I have spoken to my daughter."

“Be assured, Mr. Bennet, that I will settle a generous sum on your daughter, and I will do everything in my power to assure her happiness.”

“Yes, yes, young man, of that I have no doubt.”

He shook Mr. Darcy's hand.

"Will you ask my daughter to come in?"

"Yes, Sir. Thank you, Sir," Darcy stammered.

Darcy strode out of the library in search of Elizabeth. He bent down to whisper in her ear, "Come, your father wants to see you."

“Fitzwilliam, did he...?”

Darcy smiled. “Yes, Elizabeth, he is inclined to consent once he hears your assurances that you no longer despise me!”

Elizabeth reached up to stroke his cheek.

“I never despised you,” she whispered. “You angered me, and your manner of expression insulted me, and as you will soon learn, my philosophy is to remember the past only as it gives pleasure. Be assured my father will know this very day what my feelings are for you now!”

“Tell me again,” he said. “Because I cannot hear it often enough!”

“I love you with all my heart, William.”

He looked around quickly to be sure they were unobserved and bent down to gently kiss her. Mr. Bennet picked that very moment to poke his head out the door of the library and he coughed loudly.

“It has taken the two of you far too long to travel the distance of the corridor! I might ask that you cease your current diversions and enter!”

And while he feigned indignation, the expression on his daughter's face told him all he needed to know about her feelings for Mr. Darcy. Her eyes were shining, her complexion heightened. She was utterly besotted with her fiancé, as he was with her.

Even so, that comforting knowledge would not prevent him from having a bit of sport at the lovestruck couple's expense!

“Close the door, Lizzy,” he said as they entered. He nodded at the two chairs opposite the desk. “You may both sit down. This might take a bit of time.”

He leaned forward, his hands clasped. He paused, thoroughly enjoying Mr. Darcy's discomfiture.

“Lizzy, Mr. Darcy tells me you have agreed to marry him, and I must admit, this has come as something of a shock. You and Mr. Darcy never seemed particularly friendly toward each other; one might even say your relationship was somewhat adversarial.”

“My sentiments have changed, Papa.”

“Hmmmph. It is difficult to comprehend. You and Mr. Darcy had an acquaintance of...oh...some six months a year ago. Is that correct?”

“Yes.”

“At the end of those six months, Mr. Darcy tells me, you rejected his proposal of marriage. In a most vehement manner, I have no doubt!”

“Yes, Father,” Elizabeth said, gazing in amazement at Mr. Darcy. He told my father of his failed proposal at Hunsford!

“A year passes, during which time you and Mr. Darcy have no contact whatsoever.” He raised his eyebrows, seeking confirmation.

“Yes, that is right.”

“You meet again, less than a week ago, and in the space of those few days, you fall in love and agree to marry him. We have no need to read romance novels with such goings-on in our own family, Lizzy!”

“Might I say something?” Mr. Darcy interjected.

“Yes, you may, Mr. Darcy,” Mr. Bennet said tolerantly.

“The man who asked your daughter for her hand last spring is not the same man who is before you today, Sir. Miss Elizabeth's just appraisal of my character forced me to take a long, hard look at myself, and I did not like what I saw. Even if I had not won her hand, Mr. Bennet, she would have done me a great service.”

Darcy's face was red. He was unaccustomed to revealing himself so intimately.

Finally Mr. Bennet took pity on the man. He might have even been a bit ashamed of himself, had he not remembered Darcy's slight of his daughter at their first meeting the night of the assembly in Meryton. He has paid his dues, he thought, and I had best go easy on him as my daughter is looking at me quite ferociously!

“Very well, Mr. Darcy. You have convinced me. And now for you, Lizzy. Might I speak to my daughter alone, Sir?”

Darcy nodded and rose. “Thank you, Sir.” He bowed and left the library.

“Father!” Elizabeth indignantly exclaimed. “Was it really necessary to humiliate Mr. Darcy so shamefully?”

“Now, now, Lizzy, any young man who proposes taking on as opinionated a wife as yourself had best be made of stern stuff! I was merely testing Mr. Darcy, and he has succeeded admirably. But Lizzy, I need your assurances. Do you love him? I know he is rich and you shall have a big house and finer carriages than Jane, but will all that make you happy?”

“Father, might I remind you he had all those things last April, when first he proposed? They did not impress me then and they do not impress me now. Such things would never make me happy, but being loved by Mr. Darcy has made me the happiest woman on earth.”

Her eyes filled with tears.

“He is the best man I have ever known, Papa, and I am ashamed of the opinion I had of him a year ago. A lesser man might have quickly forgotten a woman who not only refused his proposals, but abused him so abominably and accused him of despicable behaviour with no impartial evidence to support her accusations.

“But that is not what he did, Papa,” she said, looking down at her hands in his lap. “He defended himself honourably against those charges he knew were unfounded, and sought to amend those aspects of his manner I found offensive. It could not have been an easy thing for so proud a man to not only admit his faults, but to overcome them.”

She looked up at her father.

“And he did it all for me, Father. Simply because he loved me.”

Mr. Bennet was genuinely moved. He stood and walked around the desk to embrace his daughter.

“You have convinced me, Lizzy. I have been supplanted by Mr. Darcy as the man who is primary in your affections. I could not have parted with you to anyone less worthy, my dear.”

He kissed the top of her head.

“Now go to your young man and tell him all is well. You have my whole-hearted blessing, my child.”

“Thank you, Papa.”

“And do not forget, you must speak to your mother as well, Lizzy. Do not expect me to perform that fearsome task! I am sure her raptures will be heard as far away as London!”

Mr. Darcy was waiting outside the library, standing stiffly against the wall. He looked at Elizabeth questioningly.

“It is done, William. My father has given us his consent, and...”

He could not contain himself in his joy. He opened his arms, and she rushed into them, and their lips met in a passionate kiss.

“I do not care who sees us!. I want to shout it out so all will hear. Lizzy, I have never before known such happiness.”

When at last they reluctantly separated to prepare to return to the assembled company in the drawing room, Lizzy said “And now it only remains to inform my mother, William. Prepare yourself for a most enthusiastic reaction!”

“Lizzy, your mother may shout and jump and dance a jig and it will not disturb me! Nothing could temper my happiness today. Come, let us go and tell Mrs. Bennet she is soon to be the mother-in-law of a man who has ten thousand a year!”

“And let us not forget the mighty estate in Derbyshire, Sir,” Elizabeth said teasingly as she took his arm and prepared herself for the inevitable onslaught.

“And even with all that, Elizabeth, yesterday I had nothing. Today,” he said, kissing her hand, “I have your love, and because of that, I have everything..”

Chapter 13

Telling Mrs. Bennet of their engagement was more of an ordeal for Elizabeth than it was for Darcy. As Elizabeth had dreaded, she gushed loudly with praise for Darcy, slyly remarked on the surprising elevation in consequence for her second daughter, and greatly mortified Elizabeth in her apologetic observation that Darcy would condescend to take on Lizzy, neither the "most beautiful nor most amiable" of her daughters.

Darcy, bearing her excesses admirably well up until this point, felt obliged to interject.

"Mrs. Bennet, while I appreciate your concern for my future happiness, I must inform you that Elizabeth is not only the first choice of my heart, but the only woman of my acquaintance I have ever felt in the least inclined to wish to marry. Her beauty and lively intelligence is unsurpassed in my eyes, and as for any lack of amiability -- I can only say that if she has been lacking in amiability towards myself in the past, it was due solely to my own actions! I can happily inform you that having made myself more appealing to Miss Elizabeth has greatly increased her amiability."

He spoke the last words quite softly, turning to look at his fiancee, who blushed profusely at his intimation, understood only by herself.

If only we were alone, Sir, you would reap the benefits of my ever-increasing amiability most pleasurably! How on earth are we to resist until the wedding?

Mrs. Bennet, of course, took his words at face value, and as she was never one to deny a compliment to any of her family, she smiled broadly.

"My Lizzy is very fortunate, indeed, Mr. Darcy!"

"No, Mrs. Bennet, it is I who am the fortunate one. We will want to marry speedily as I desire to be settled at Pemberley by summer."

"But, Mr. Darcy! The marriage of so illustrious a personage as yourself will require months of planning! Surely an autumn wedding would be more desirable. What do you think, Lizzy?"

"While I can see the merits of your suggestion, Mama, I feel it is my duty to submit to my future husband's authority in all things. If it is Mr. Darcy's desire to marry soon, I must comply."

Darcy gave his uncharacteristically meek fiancee a suspicious glance. Only he saw the seductive sparkle in her eyes and the beginnings of a smirk on her lips.

"Well said, Miss Elizabeth." He nodded solemnly. "I am gratified that you begin to understand and accept what will be required of you as the wife of the Master of Pemberley." Two can play at this game, Lizzy!

Mrs. Bennet was not the most astute of women, but even she understood that she was no longer part of this particular conversation. She nodded at her daughter with some satisfaction.

"I am happy to see that Mr. Darcy might be able to curb your headstrong nature, Lizzy. I suppose if you insist, Mr. Darcy, we can arrange a wedding on such short notice."

"Spare no expense, Mrs. Bennet. Anything that pleases you or Miss Elizabeth is to be procured, on this I insist," he said, his assurances going a long way to appease Mrs. Bennet's disappointment at such a short engagement. Mrs. Bennet did not know whether to be insulted at Darcy's intimation that she might need his financial assistance to stage a wedding of the caliber expected in high levels of society, or elated at the prospect of her daughter's marrying a man who had nearly unlimited financial resources, which he did not hesitate to put at her disposal. Ten thousand a year, and likely more!

Her practical nature, coupled with the elation incited by such largesse, won out.

Mrs. Bennet left the room in a happy flutter, eager to rejoin the others and impart the joyful news. The moment they were alone, Darcy cornered Elizabeth and put his mouth as close to hers as he could without their lips touching.

"As I intend to curb that 'headstrong nature' of yours, are you prepared to 'submit to my authority' at this moment, Lizzy?" he said wickedly.

"Of course, Sir," she answered demurely. "Your every desire is my command."

"I shall hold you to that promise, Lizzy," he said, his mouth brushing hers seductively.

"As you wish," she replied.

His arms snaked around her, and he pressed her body up against his.

"I believe I shall impose on Charles' hospitality for a few days' longer, Elizabeth. I wish to remain near you."

"I dare say, William, that you could not be any nearer to me than you are at this moment," she teased.

"Oh, I believe I could be, Elizabeth. I shall be more than happy to demonstrate just how much closer I can get when the opportunity arises."

"William!" she exclaimed, shocked.

"Of course I shall respect your wishes, my love. But loving you and wanting you occupies my thoughts constantly. If you would rather I not speak so frankly..."

"No! I demand you speak frankly, William. I rather fear my own instincts, I am so overcome when I am with you."
"Never fear your instincts, Lizzy. Take that advice from one who has only recently learned that lesson. I accept any limits you place on us until the wedding, although I cannot promise I will never forget myself! And after the wedding, Lizzy, let your instincts guide you, with no preconceived notions of propriety."

"Continue speaking thus, William, and my instincts may rule my actions far sooner than would be proper. You tempt me so!"

"Good. I want to tempt you," he answered, finally covering her mouth with his own and engaging her in a lengthy, passionate kiss.

"William," she said breathlessly when he ceased kissing her. "We must stop, anyone might come upon us here."

"I know, Lizzy, I know," he said, reluctantly drawing away from her. His heart was pounding in his chest, and his arousal was evident. His face was flushed, his chest rising and falling rapidly, and had Elizabeth dared to glance lower along the length of his body, she would have seen the most prominent evidence of his excited condition.

"But how do you expect me to respond," he whispered, "when you inform me that my every wish is your command? I believe you have a good notion at this juncture just what my fondest wish might be!"

"And it is mine as well, Fitzwilliam. Does that shock you?"

"No, Elizabeth, it delights me. Words cannot express how much!"

"We might certainly find some time alone tomorrow, William. If the weather suits, we may walk together through Netherfield Park."

"Yes. Into the remotest part of the woods, Lizzy, where we cannot easily be found. I remember at Rosings, happening upon you, and being so overcome I could not speak."

"Oh, I well remember that! I thought you quite odd, William, staring down at me so gravely from upon your horse and not saying a word. You did not even acknowledge me with a greeting!"

"I did not trust myself."

"How so?"

"My first instinct was to sweep you up onto my mount and ride away with you. The picture was so vivid in my mind that I found I was unable to speak to you without betraying my outlandish thoughts. That night, I dreamed of such a scenario in explicit detail, Lizzy, and the next day I called upon you at the parsonage to ask for your hand."
"Tell me of your dream!"

"Oh, that I cannot! It was far too...I just cannot, that is all." He blushed, remembering.

"Miss Elizabeth, I have been riding through the woods hoping to find you."

"And I have been waiting for you, Mr. Darcy."

"Come away with me, Lizzy."

"Where to, Sir?"

"Home, Lizzy. Come home with me."

She smiled, and in the illogical manner of dreams, in a moment she was astride the horse, riding in front of him. He nuzzled the back of her neck, his tongue dipping into her ear. Her scent was intoxicating. Lifting the back of her skirts , he released his pulsating erection from his breeches, and with the next gallop of the horse, she rose and then fell , impaling herself on him. Thus they rode, in tandem with the horse's gait, rising and falling, each movement an excruciating delight.

He had awakened from the dream in a cold sweat and with the bedclothes in a most embarrassing state, such as he had not experienced since he was a boy of 16.

Eliabeth pouted. "I demand you tell me, William!"

"Let us just say we rode together, Lizzy! You may use your imagination, as I will not be more explicit. Perhaps when we are married, I might impart such scandalous information, but not now!"

"I shall never be able to watch you ride again without wondering about the subject of your dream, Fitzwilliam!"

"Then I shall have to be sure to arrive on horseback at Longbourn often during our engagement."

"I am fearful, Sir, that such a sight may steer my thoughts in a most improper direction."

"Fear not, Lizzy, as soon we shall be married, and we may think -- and do -- exactly as we like."

"I greatly anticipate that, William," she said softly, suddenly shy.

He extended his arm to her, and she took it.

"Come, Lizzy, no doubt by now the entire party knows of our engagemet. Let us go and accept their felicitations."
"The entire party, William? Knowing my mother, she has informed not only the entire party but all of Hertfordshire!"

"I am gratified she welcomes our engagement, Lizzy. My reputation here has not always been a favourable one, I know, and an excess of enthusiasm is preferable to disapproval."

Elizabeth stroked his cheek, then pulled his face towards her for a kiss.

"If anyone disliked you, dearest, it was because they did not truly know you. Jane, bless her charitable heart, always liked you, you know."

"And when did you begin to like me, Lizzy?"

"It is difficult to say. Certainly after I read your letter -- the first one, that you gave me at Hunsford -- I had to admit I had judged you erroneously. My opinion of you improved, but then you went away..." Here her voice broke as she realized how easily they could have been separated forever. He knew exactly what she was thinking, his own thoughts remarkably similar, and he bent down to give her a brief, reassuring kiss.

"...and I tried to banish you from my thoughts. Knowing I would see you at the baby's baptism was most unsettling, because I was forced to think of you again. When I saw you, looking so impossibly handsome, I was smitten, and when I read your letter this afternoon in church, I was ready to run off with you! So you see, your dream is now not so far from the truth"

"Ah so you are ready to run off with me now, are you?" he said seductively. "I can order my horse saddled immediately, if you are still so inclined."

She laughed. "No, William, it is too late for that now. We have announced our engagement in a conventional manner and we must behave conventionally."

"Except when we are alone, Elizabeth," he whispered. "Might I be permitted a few indiscretions then?"

"I think that may be arranged, Sir," she answered. "Tomorrow?"

"Lizzy, even tomorrow seems too long to wait. Knowing you love me and that you are sleeping under the same roof will be torture!"

Elizabeth smiled at Mr. Darcy's sudden propensity to express his emotions so dramatically.

"Torture, Sir? I do not want to be responsible for torturing anyone! Perhaps it might be best for you to remove yourself to Pemberley, after all, and..."

"No more teasing, Lizzy," he said huskily, pulling her into his arms for a kiss that silenced her for some minutes. When he was finished, he pulled back and looked into her glazed eyes with much satisfaction.
"There, Lizzy. Do you still desire that I remove myself to Pemberley?"

"I am not certain. Kiss me again, William, so that I may consider my answer."

He was more than happy to oblige.

Chapter 14

When the newly engaged couple rejoined the others in the party, it was Darcy who spoke first. He beamed with pleasure, making no attempt to hide his happiness.

How appealing he is when he smiles, Elizabeth thought.

"I am pleased to announce that Miss Bennet has agreed to be my wife," he said.

Georgiana, although she had already been privy to the news, was the first to reach them, and she hugged and kissed first her brother, then Elizabeth.

"I am so, so happy for both of you!" she exclaimed. "Miss Elizabeth, you are everything I could ever have wished for in a sister!"

"And aren't you the sly one, Miss Georgiana," Lydia piped in, "luring me away on a wild goose chase so that my sister and your brother could be alone!"

"I do not deny it," Georgiana said, "and now I have not one, but five new sisters, and I cannot remember ever being so happy!"

Darcy had tears in his eyes as he looked at his sister. How could I ever have thought the Bennet family would be unsuitable as acquaintances for Georgiana? I have sheltered her far too much.

Caroline Bingley, unable to conceal her jealousy, said, "You had best be certain your brother approves of such discourse, Miss Georgiana."

"I beg your pardon," Georgiana said, clearly shocked at her implication.

"It is just that the Darcy family has always been so selective in choosing their social contacts, and it may be unsuitable for you..."

"Excuse me," Darcy said sternly. "I believe it is my province, not yours, Miss Bingley, to determine who is and is not suitable for my sister's acquaintance. I have come to learn that goodness and generosity of spirit matter far more than social position. It is a lesson you might do well to learn yourself."

Charles Bingley knew he should have been insulted at such a blatant set-down of his sister, but he found it difficult to criticize Darcy's words. His sister's behaviour had been despicable, and she deserved what Darcy had said, and more.

"Really, Caroline," he said. "Can you not just be happy for Darcy and Miss Elizabeth and wish them well?"

Jane, sensing her husband's unease, came up next to him and put her arm through his.

"I am sure you have misunderstood your sister's meaning, Charles. I know she wishes Mr. Darcy and my sister all the happiness in the world."

From across the room, Mr. Clifton regarded the three of them -- Caroline, Charles and Jane (such an angel!) -- and came to a quick decision.

"Miss Caroline, I believe you are out of sorts. Might some fresh air benefit you?" There, he thought, I will afford her a graceful exit

"I believe it might," she answered, glaring at Darcy and his lowly fiancee one last time.

"I am going to take Miss Caroline outside," Mr. Clifton said, "but might I first offer my sincere best wishes to both of you. I wish you every happiness." He shook Darcy's hand, and bowed to Elizabeth.

"Thank you, Mr. Clifton," Elizabeth said.

"And Miss Caroline," he prompted. "Surely there is something you wish to say to Mr. Darcy and Miss Elizabeth as well?" He raised his eyebrows, awaiting her response.

Like a stubborn child, she responded shortly and reluctantly.

"I offer the two of you my congratulations on your engagement," she said stonily, barely looking at them.

Darcy nodded, gritting his teeth, and looked away.

"Thank you," Elizabeth said simply.

"Come, Miss Caroline," Mr. Clifton said, offering her his arm.

"That man is a saint," Darcy said quietly as Clifton and Caroline left, quite capable of praising his former rival now that he was secure in Elizabeth's affections.

"I cannot quite make him out," Elizabeth said thoughtfully, noting again how oddly Mr. Clifton had regarded her sister and brother-in-law.

"I cannot wait to inform all of our family and friends of your upcoming marriage, Lizzy! Who would have thought that you would marry a man of Mr. Darcy's rank? 'Tis as good as an earl!"

Darcy covered his mouth, stifling a smile, and Elizabeth sighed.

"Thank you, Mama."

Mr. Bennet looked at his daughter and her fiance conspiratorially. "Lizzy, you know I will be sorry to lose you, but I could not be happier with your choice of a husband. I, for one, would not have been more pleased even if he were an earl! And I dare say I will make it my business to visit Pemberley often!"

"Please do, Mr. Bennet. It will be my pleasure to receive you and introduce you to the library and grounds," Darcy answered sincerely. He was thoroughly relieved that Mr. Bennet had been amenable to their engagement, as he well knew how highly he regarded his daughter and wished for her happiness.

"Ah, your library, Sir! I understand it contains all manner of treasures!"

"Nothing that compares with the treasure you are entrusting me with, Mr. Bennet," Darcy replied simply, gazing upon Elizabeth.

A bottle of wine was produced, and a toast was drunk to the radiantly happy couple.

"Lizzy, I always knew that someday you would find a man as well suited to you as Mr. Darcy," Jane said.

"Thank you, Jane, but I fear you may be angry when I admit I like him better than I do my brother Charles!" Elizabeth said, gazing teasingly at Darcy.

"Better than Charles? I am flattered, Elizabeth," Darcy said, dearly wishing they were alone so that he might kiss her smiling lips.

"Yes," she whispered. "Better than all men, truth be told." The gaze that passed between them was so intense, that Mr. Bennet's impression was that it was good, indeed, that the wedding would be sooner rather than later.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
It had been a most eventful day, Mr. Clifton thought, as he walked with Caroline Bingley on his arm as twilight fell.

It was time for him to settle matters with Caroline. He saw it not as an ideal situation to his dilemma, but the only one available to him. He was 32, had no brothers and sisters, and it fell to him alone to perpetuate the family line.
He was, simply put, a man who was resigned to the reality that he preferred the company of other men to that of women. At Eton, there had been a few furtive schoolboy encounters, but since then, he had been absolutely celibate. While he admitted to himself that he loved Charles Bingley, he would always, in his mind, add the words "as I would love a brother." Beyond that, he did not allow himself to think. He wondered, though, if with Jane Bingley, he might have been able to experience feelings such as those other men felt and be able to care for her, not as a sister, but as a lover.

In some ways, Jane and Charles were so much alike that they could have been siblings rather than husband and wife. There was an aura about them, he thought. Beyond the superficial physical resemblance, they were nearly identical in demeanour and spirit. Sweet-tempered and amiable, they both possessed a kind of optimism and goodness that allowed them to always think the best of others and were always shocked when people behaved in a less than honourable manner. Just a few minutes ago, hadn't Jane Bingley blithely assumed that Caroline wished Darcy and Elizabeth well when she had, in fact, just uttered words to the contrary? Some might assume such a woman as Jane (and to a lesser extent, a man like Bingley) was afflicted with a sort of myopia that blinded them to unpalatable truth. But for Clifton, it was in large part what made the two of them so appealing. They were so uncomplicated, and contented to be so. He was happiest when in their company, which he found soothing.

He knew Darcy, of whom he had heard much but never met until this week, had long been Charles's closest friend. But when Darcy left for France last year and Bingley became engaged soon after, he saw it as his opportunity to become closer to Charles. Oddly enough, he never resented Jane or felt himself her rival, as he had with the absent Mr. Darcy, who seemed almost larger than life in some ways. He could find nothing to dislike about Jane; indeed, he found himself wondering if he could have taken such a woman as his wife and been content. He enjoyed nothing better than being at Netherfield with the two of them and simply basking in their glow.

He had met Elizabeth Bennet due to his friendship with the Bingleys. How odd that both Jane and Charles had sisters that were so unlike them. Elizabeth and Caroline had dark hair and eyes, in direct contrast to their siblings. Elizabeth looked at the world quite differently than Jane did, but he found that he did enjoy her company. He could never have romantic feelings for her as he could for Jane, he thought, but he found her an amusing companion. Her open personality was quite refreshing. It became quite apparent to him, once Darcy reappeared, that her affections were occupied elsewhere, and he had bowed out gracefully.

And so, if he wished to be assured an ongoing closeness with the Bingleys, only Caroline remained. Caroline seemed incapable of love, and perhaps that was better for his own purposes. He knew she had harboured hopes of procuring Darcy's affections, and those hopes had been dashed this afternoon in so public a setting. Perhaps his chances of winning her were at their peak today, when she might accept him for no other reason than to draw attention away from Elizabeth Bennet and prove to the world at large that she was undisturbed by Darcy's engagement.

"Miss Caroline," he began, "surely you have noticed that I greatly enjoy your company. I know we have known each other but a few days, but my close friendship with your brother Charles makes me feel as though I have known you far longer.

"I will be direct with you. It is my desire to court you, with the ultimate purpose of making you my wife. I have much to offer you, and you will be mistress of an estate close to your brother and of a large house in town where we may enjoy all the London season has to offer. May I humbly request that you allow me to speak to your brother to make my intentions known?"

Caroline took a deep breath. She had never seen Mr. Clifton's estate, but she doubted it would approach the grandeur of Pemberley. However, she did remember that Charles had told her that Rosewood Manor was larger and more elaborately furnished than Netherfield, and more importantly, that Clifton's London townhouse was in one of London's most exclusive neighbourhoods.

"Mr. Clifton, I thank you for expressing your intentions so eloquently and yes, I will allow you to speak to Charles."

"May I kiss you, Caroline?"

"Yes, you may," she answered, but when he leaned down to brush her lips with his own, she turned her head so that he was obliged to place his kiss on her cheek. So that is how it will be, he thought with some relief. Apparently a passionless marriage suits us both.

"One more request, Caroline. Might you begin to address me as 'Alex?'"

Caroline smiled a bit too brightly. "Certainly, Alex. Now when do you plan on speaking to Charles?"

"Would tomorrow be too soon?"

Caroline thought of Darcy and Elizabeth back at the house making fools of themselves with their smouldering glances and secretive smiles.

"I would prefer you speak to him tonight, Alex. The sooner the better."

And when Darcy and Elizabeth set the date for their wedding, I will insist on ours being a week sooner!

Chapter 15

Caroline Bingley had rather hoped that the curiosity of the entire party would be awakened by Mr. Clifton's asking to speak to Charles privately upon their return to Netherfield. But all assembled were still so jubilant over the news of the engagemet of Mr. Darcy and Elizabeth Bennet, that Mr. Clifton and Caroline were barely noticed.

And of course, since they were not yet formally engaged, there was no announcement to make upon Mr. Clifton's return from the library, where he had spoken to Charles about his intentions to court Caroline. Alex merely nodded and smiled at Caroline, indicating by his demeanour that Charles had been agreeable to his request. Charles himself, however, did cast a somewhat suspicious glance in Caroline's direction. He sincerely hoped his sister was not trifling with Mr. Clifton's affections. Mr. Clifton's behaviour during their conversation had been odd, to say the least. He seemed ill at ease, stammering as he spoke, and was incapable of looking Charles in the eye. Perhaps he truly had feared a negative response to his request.

It was quite late, close to midnight, when the party retired for the evening. Elizabeth blushed when Mr. Darcy, in full view of all their family and friends, tenderly kissed her hand before bidding her good night.

Both Darcy and Elizabeth had difficulty falling asleep that evening. Each of them was acutely aware that the other slept just two doors away, and Elizabeth found herself wishing that there was some way for her to see him now, when all others in the house were asleep. She wondered how it would be when they were married. Would her rooms adjoin his, would he come to her when he desired her company, would it be too bold of her to go to him? For she had no doubt that there would be times she would desire to to lie with him, as she desired that even now, and they were not yet married.

Might they share a chamber, she wondered, so that she could sleep in his arms every night? She remembered how wonderful she had felt when he held her, how affected she had been by the heat of his body and his masculine scent. How much more delightful it would be now, when she wore a thin nightdress rather than the cumbersome layers of clothing women wore during the day.

Darcy's thoughts were remarkably similar. His beloved slept just steps away from him. If we were married, he thought, I might slip out of my room and knock on her door. Would she welcome me?

He knew that she would. He had felt her pleasure that afternoon when he had held her, when he kissed her. Her body was so soft, her demeanour so compliant.

But no, he thought. I would not have to go to her, because we will share one chamber, as my parents did. I could not bear to sleep apart from her; I do not know how I will bear it tonight!

His restlessness was overpowering, and he arose from his bed and went to the door. He could not resist opening it, and peering outside, his head turned in the direction of Elizabeth's bedchamber.

It took a few moments for his eyes to adjust to the relative darkness of the hallway, but the thin stream of moonlight from the window at the end of the corridor was enough to illuminate Elizabeth's figure. She had stepped out of her room and was looking in his direction. She was in a pristine white cotton nightdress, her hair loose and streaming down to her shoulders, and he had an overwhelming impulse to sweep her into his arms and carry her into his bedchamber.

"Lizzy?" he whispered, and when she heard his voice, she rushed to him, and settled herself into his arms.

"William," she said. "I find I cannot sleep."

"Nor can I," he replied simply.

"William," she said plaintively. "We have foolishly kept ourselves apart from each other for so long. Why must we persist in this now, when we have come to an understanding?"

"What is your meaning, Elizabeth?" he asked, knowing full well what her meaning was, but wanting to hear it from her own lips.

"Come to bed with me, William. I need to lie in your arms tonight, just this one night, and then I will be satiated until we wed."

"But I will not be, Lizzy. I fear if we indulge ourselves this night, I will never be able to sleep alone again."

She sighed in exasperation. "I offer myself to you, Sir, and you refuse!"

"You know this is how it must be, Elizabeth," he said gently. "I want nothing more than to lose myself in your embrace, but I must exercise restraint for both of us."

"You must think me truly shameless," she said.

"No, no," he said. "I love you all the more for it. Knowing that you want me as urgently as I want you..."

He trailed off, unable to stop himself from pulling her body to his in a tight embrace.

"Will you kiss me, then?" she asked. "Improperly?"

"As improperly as possible, under the circumstances," he answered.

He did not kiss her lips at first; rather he put his mouth to her neck, after he pulled at the ties closing her nightdress. It fell open exposing her throat and a good part of her bare chest, and Darcy moaned at the contact with her warm flesh. Her body was unclothed under her nightdress, and he cupped one firm breast through the thin fabric with his hand, gently kneading it.

She responded by placing her hands against the seat of his breeches, pressing him to her.

"Please William, I am begging you. Take me to bed."

He began to run his hand up and down the length of her thigh, finally sweeping up the hem of her nightdress so that he could feel her bare skin. He stroked the inside of her thighs, his hand straying higher and higher, until finally his fingers touched her warm, moist femininity. Her arousal was undeniable, and Darcy, lost to all reasonable thought, lifted her into his arms and carried her into her bedchamber.
"It seems you will have your way with me after all, Miss Bennet," he said, as he lay her upon the bed.

"William, I do not want to force you to do something you find unacceptable."

He looked at her seriously.

"Lizzy, if it were just you and I, with no one else in the world, it would matter not what we did tonight. Our love is unshakable, and we will spend the rest of our lives together. Of that I have no doubt.

"But I have the trust of your father, and I do not want to betray that trust. We provide an example, I believe, to our younger sisters. And as for Bingley, he cares for you as much, perhaps even more, than his own sisters, and I know how strenuously he would object to my compromising you in any way. I love you so much, and I have waited so long for you, and as difficult as it is, I can wait a few more weeks."

He lay beside her and held her against his chest, his arms encircling her.

"Oh, William, when you explain things so sensibly..." she sighed.

"I can kiss you, though, Elizabeth, and hold you until you fall asleep. Will that suffice for now?"

"I suppose it must suffice, William," she said. "But tomorrow we shall be in the park, quite alone, and I do not promise I will not try to shake your resolve!"

"Let us see, then, if I can kiss you to sleep, Elizabeth."

"That seems rather unlikely, William! I think you shall only succeed in awakening my passions!"

Darcy kissed her. Rather than building to a crescendo, he kissed her lips most passionately to begin, then more gently, depositing soft kisses all over her face and neck. Holding her close, he massaged her back, his lips brushing the top of her head.

"Close your eyes, my beautiful love," he whispered. "I will be here for you until you fall asleep, and I will wait for you downstairs in the morning."

Elizabeth had never felt so cherished. "I trust you implicitly, William, to do what is good and right," she said.

You trust me more than I trust myself, he thought, as his soothing kisses and gentle caresses lulled her to sleep.

When he was certain she was in a deep slumber, he settled her on the bed and covered her sleeping form with a lightweight blanket. She looked so lovely, so sweetly content in her repose, that it took all of his resolve to force himself to leave the room and return to his own bedchamber.

He had resisted an almost overwhelming temptation this night. Tomorrow they would be alone once again, and they would have to find some way to relieve their frustration without violating the high standards he had set for himself.

Elizabeth and Darcy were the earliest risers at Netherfield the next morning. It was their hope to enjoy a quick breakfast, then elude the rest of the party so that they might be alone for some hours. The earlier their walk took place, they thought, the less likely anyone else would venture outside and come upon them in the woods engaged in activities which, of necessity, had to be conducted in private.

They were already finishing their breakfast when Jane and Bingley entered the dining room.

"The two of you are certainly up early," Jane said with a teasing smile.

"We decided some early-morning exercise would be most beneficial," Darcy said blandly, causing Bingley to gaze upon him suspiciously. He had never known Darcy to be one who arose early to ramble through the woods, not even when he was at Pemberley.

"Perhaps Jane and I might accompany you," Bingley said, a wicked gleam in his eyes, and Jane kicked him under the table.

"No, Charles, the baby will be awake soon, why do we not linger over breakfast while it is quiet?"

Bingley glanced with amusement at his wife, who usually acquiesced to anything he proposed.

"As you wish, my dear," he answered, with a look that let her know he was fully aware of her motivations.

"Really, darling," she said, after Darcy and Elizabeth left. "You are most unsympathetic to Mr. Darcy, who clearly wants some time alone with my sister!"

"Ah, Jane, because of Darcy and his machinations, I was forced to wait far longer for your affections than I might have had he not interfered with our courtship. He is very fortunate to have won your sister's hand in light of his previous actions, and you must forgive me if I wish to plague him just a bit. It is all in sport, I assure you!"

"Just try to remember that you may be plaguing poor Elizabeth as well, Charles!"

"You are far more clever than I in pointing that out. If your sister shares even half your passionate nature, it may be cruel indeed to not allow her time alone with Darcy. However, Elizabeth is my sister as well, and as she has no other brothers to protect her, it falls to me to keep Darcy in check! I hope that my expressed wish to join them in their walk will remind him of the possibility that someone might come upon them here at Netherfield when they do not anticipate it."

"How quickly you forget, Charles, how we treasured our own time alone during our courtship!" And how well we utilized it, she thought.

"That was different," he responded, as men have always responded to such a statement since time immemorial.

Chapter 16

Darcy hastened away from the house with Elizabeth, walking so quickly that she was forced to implore him to slow his pace.

"Can you not keep up with me, Lizzy?" he teased. "You, the most excellent walker in all of Hertfordshire?"

"Your legs are far longer than mine, Sir!" she said petulantly.
"I am far too impatient to walk more slowly, Lizzy," he said, lifting her off her feet and tossing her easily over his shoulder, without slowing his stride for even a moment.

"Where are you taking me, William?"

"I shall let you know when I come upon the proper place, Lizzy."

"The proper place for...?"

"For the private expression of my ardour."

"Oh, that does sound promising, William! And here I thought you wished to restrict us to the sort of chaste kisses we have seen Mr. Clifton bestow on Caroline Bingley."

"Impertinent woman!" he exclaimed, giving her bottom a light slap, a most convenient maneuver in her present position, draped over his shoulder.

"I fear if you walk much farther we shall soon be in Meryton, astounding the local populace with the spectacle. The very proper Mr. Darcy carrying his bride-to-be over his shoulder in a most barbaric manner!"

"Oh no, Lizzy, Meryton is far too public a place for what I have in mind for you this morning. Ah...here we are...," he said, discovering a grove of woods far in from the path. It was unlikely anyone would come upon them here.

He set her on her feet, removed his overcoat and spread it out on the grass under the tree.

The two of them sat on the garment, and Elizabeth looked at him expectantly.

"Well?" she said.

"Well..." he repeated softly.

"I await your instructions, Fitzwilliam!"

He began to unfasten her pelisse, which he removed and folded neatly.

"Lie back comfortably, my love," he said. She reclined against the tree, and he tucked the folded pelisse behind her head to serve as a makeshift pillow.

He just looked at her for some moments, allowing his eyes to pass over the length of her body. When his eyes at last returned to her face, Elizabeth was startled at the intensity of his expression. His eyes, always so dark and expressive, now seemed to be looking into her soul.

She reached up to him and began to untie his cravat.

"Will you not remove your coat?" she said.

He did so, then assisted her in removing his cravat. Wearing just his shirt and breeches, he wrapped his arms around her and whispered in her ear.

"It is my intention this morning, Elizabeth, to touch you intimately, while being careful to preserve your virtue until the night of our wedding. Is this acceptable to you?"
Her eyes twinkled. "I rather wonder, Sir, how intimately you can touch me whilst preserving my virtue! The two objects seem rather at cross purposes, do you not think so?"

"I see," he replied.

"What is it you see?" she asked impertinently.

"I see a young lady who takes delight in teasing me, even when I am endeavouring to be serious!"

"Not at all, William! I am merely seeking clarification of your seemingly ambiguous statement."

"Ah," he said. "Perhaps my clarification must come in the form of actions, not words, Elizabeth." He was gratified at the flush that spread downwards, from her face, to the revealing neckline of her dress.

He kissed her lips, in a most unhurried fashion.

"Shall we attempt to discover, Lizzy, how far we may proceed without irrevocably compromising your virtue?"

"Ah, William, you have revealed your intentions. You have no qualms about compromising my virtue, as long as it is not 'irrevocably' compromised?" She smiled at him flirtatiously, compelling him to kiss her once again before responding to her question.

"I would not say I have no qualms at all, Lizzy, but I have come to the conclusion that if we do not allow ourselves some small relief, we will both be driven to distraction!"

"Very well, Sir. I await your attentions," she said.

He began to explore her curvaceous body with his hands, caressing her face and neck, then that part of her chest which was exposed by the daring neckline of her dress. His hand dipped inside the bodice, and he cradled her breast, one finger teasing the already erect nipple.

"Am I correct to assume you enjoy this, Lizzy?" he asked, his hand crossing to the other side of her chest to attend to the other breast.

Then, with both hands, he eased the neckline down so that both breasts were fully exposed. He suckled one breast, then the other, his hand gathering up the hem of her skirt and petticoats to expose her to the waist. He stroked the inside of her thighs, nudging them open, so that he might stroke her in such a way that she was soon crying out in pleasure.

Upon hearing her sighs and moans, he positioned his body atop hers, rubbing his erection against her, his hips moving in slow circles.

"How does that feel, my Lizzy?" he asked.

"Heavenly," she said. "But I must feel you, touch you, as well, William! Please?"

At first he refused. "I cannot...I cannot trust myself, Lizzy..."

But Lizzy would not be deterred. She reached between them to unfasten his breeches, then lowered them past his hips. She took his engorged manhood into her hand and guided it between her thighs.
"Please, William! Rub against me there. Oh yes...yes...just like that!"

Darcy began to realize through the haze of ecstasy he was experiencing that it was quite possible for them to reach the peak of satisfaction without technically taking Lizzy's virginity. Lizzy's fingernails were digging into his bare bottom and she was urging him to thrust against her. He slid up and down between her thighs, making sure to position himself so that he might stimulate her as well.

It was fortunate that it was so early that no one else was in the environs of Netherfield woods, as Elizabeth's cries as she took her pleasure were most enthusiastic and vocal. Darcy generously waited until she had reached completion before he requested her to close her thighs tightly so that he might take advantage of the added friction to precipitate his own satisfaction.

They lay entwined, their clothing in total disarray, for some minutes, both of them out of breath from the exertion.

"William...I have never felt anything like that before...never."

"You have never...had that sort of satisfaction, Lizzy?"

"Well, I have...oh, I cannot speak of such things."

"You can speak to me of anything, Elizabeth. I will ask you frankly, have you ever pleasured yourself?"

"Yes," she whispered. "Far more frequently since I have known you, Fitzwilliam. Thinking of you has always been stimulating."

"Even when we first met?"

"Not immediately, no, but...oh, do not make me speak of this!"

"I demand you tell me," he said, propping himself up on one elbow and smiling at her. "When, specifically, did you begin to find me stimulating?"

"At Rosings. And I hated you for inspiring such improper feelings!"

"You hated me for many reasons, Lizzy, but I am not disturbed at learning of this particular reason!"

"You need not look so smug, Sir!"

"I want you to pleasure yourself every night, Lizzy, until we marry. And think of me while you do so."

She began to rearrange her clothing to cover herself, and he swiftly grabbed her wrist to stop her.

"No, not yet, Lizzy. I have not finished with you."

She gazed at him quite brazenly, and languidly positioned her hands behind her head, which had the effect of elevating her breasts most enticingly.

"So beautiful," he said, leaning over her to place a soft kiss on each breast.
He moved down the length of her body, spread her legs and knelt between them. He placed his hands under her knees and moved closer, placing her legs over each of his shoulders so that her legs dangled behind him.

He felt her trembling, half in anticipation, half in fear of the unknown.

"Lizzy," he said softly. "You asked me about improper kisses, do you remember?"

"Yes," she said doubtfully.

"I am going to kiss you now, most improperly."

"You are going to kiss me...there?"

"Yes. Do you trust me, Lizzy?"

"With my life, Fitzwilliam."

He nodded in satisfaction, then kissed the inside of each thigh repeatedly, moving from side to side, higher and higher, until she was aching for his lips to touch her most sensitive spot. She could almost feel his lips there before they actually touched her, and once they did, the effect was electrifying.

He pulled her closer so that his mouth was positioned at the juncture of her legs, and he licked her with the lightest of strokes, parting her nether lips with his fingers. He dipped the tip of his tongue inside her, and her response was so immediate and pronounced that he slid one finger inside her, thrusting it in and out slowly, as he licked her.

Her enthusiastically vocal response to his tender attentions was so arousing that, after he brought her to completion with his tongue, he straddled her waist, intending to rub himself between her breasts until he was satisfied. He was most pleasantly shocked when Lizzy urged him closer so that she might take him in her mouth.

She hesitated, uncertain of how she should proceed, then began to gently suck him. She watched his face; his eyes were closed, his expression one of sheer ecstasy. Taking encouragement from this, she took him deeper into her mouth and was rewarded by his heartfelt, rapturous moans.

Feeling himself losing control, he shook his head.

"No, Lizzy, no...I cannot..." and he withdrew from her mouth, spilling onto her neck and breasts.

He lay atop her, clutching her to him.

"Lizzy, my beautiful...perfect...how I adore you."

Utterly content, they lay in each other's arms for half an hour, barely speaking.

Darcy finally asked, "Lizzy, do you regret...?"

She smiled.

"No. No...it is not as if my virtue has been irrevocably compromised!"
"Minx!" he exclaimed, kissing her again.

I am the luckiest man in all of England.

"Come," he said, helping her to her feet. "It is time for us to return to the house."

And sadly, he thought, to forced propriety.

As though reading his thoughts, Lizzy put her arms around his neck and kissed him.

"Just five short weeks, Fitzwilliam, and we will be bound to propriety no longer."

"Unfortunately, Lizzy, five weeks seems very far away right now."

"It will pass quickly, love. Shopping, wedding preparations..."

"I leave that to you, Lizzy. I shall occupy myself readying Pemberley for my bride."

"How so, William?"

"By making our bedchamber so enticing a place that you shall never want to leave it."

"I dare say that your very presence will be enticement enough!"

"Elizabeth, I cannot express how much that means to me, as at one time not so long ago, my very presence was offensive to you."

She was about to make a flippant reply when she saw the contemplative expression on his face and reached up to touch his cheek.

"My feelings for you now, William, are so very different. I long for your presence, every moment of every day."

"Thank you, Lizzy," he said simply. "I love you so much."

"It is nearly noon, William. I am afraid we really must return now."

"One more kiss, Lizzy?"

"Just one?" she asked with a happy smile.

"Just one for now," he replied. "It is a long way back to the house!"

Chapter 17

It was most fortunate for the satiated lovers that no one witnessed their return to Netherfield Hall. Darcy's handkerchief and cravat had been utilized to clean up, albeit somewhat inadequately, the physical evidence of their activities in the park, but a discerning eye would have quickly realized that their morning exercise had involved far more than a simple walk!

It was a flushed, rumpled Elizabeth, and a rather disheveled, cravatless Darcy, who smiled conspiratorially at each other when they reached the house. They kissed briefly before entering, not speaking, but conveying the depth of their emotions with their eyes. They were of one mind about what had occurred that morning: their encounter had provided a much-needed, if limited, release, and neither of them regretted it. They knew not when another such opportunity would present itself or even whether there would be any occasion before their marriage upon which they could experience such bliss as they had this morning.

Darcy watched his beloved as she mounted the stairs to her bedchamber, waited until she had disappeared from sight, then bounded up the the stairs himself. He could not recall any time in his life when he had felt so completely happy. Regret and despair had been his constant companions this past year, and now, in the space of just one short week, everything had changed.

Elizabeth loved him. Elizabeth trusted him. Elizabeth desired him.

Just the remembrance of how she had expressed her desire threatened to trigger his arousal once again. I must not think of that now!

He forced himself to focus on more mundane matters.

Pemberley. Elizabeth will soon see it for the first time. I must return home to ensure my home...our home...is in readiness for Elizabeth.

I will speak to Mrs. Reynolds when I return. Our bedchamber must be a haven for the two of us, it must be made more inviting, more sumptuous. New bedding, fresh flowers. I have lived the life of a bachelor far too long, and my home needs a woman's touch.

Elizabeth's touch.

Such thoughts soon led to a remembrance of Elizabeth's literal touch, her soft hand grasping him, stroking him... the memory, understandably, brought about the same physical reaction as Elizabeth's touch had.

Good Lord! Will I ever be able to think clearly again? Or am I doomed to be in a constant state of tumescence until our marriage?

He determined he was in dire need of a bath and he summoned his valet. Luckily it was not his valet's place to question why his master required a second bath just hours after the one he had had upon awakening, and if he suspected the reason, he refrained from smiling until after he had left Darcy's presence.

Darcy sank down into the warm water and mentally envisioned the five weeks that remained until his marriage. Thirty-five days, and on the thirty-sixth day and every day thereafter, he would awaken with Elizabeth in his bed. He closed his eyes and gave free rein to his imagination. If she were his wife, at this very moment, would she tend to him in his bath? Kneel behind him so that she might knead his shoulders, kiss his neck, massage soap into his scalp, then rinse his head and body with warm water...

His valet coughed behind him. Darcy's eyes flew open.

"Are you ready to exit your bath, sir?"

"Yes, Andrews, thank you," he stammered, deliberately crossing his arms in his lap and leaning forward so that Andrews would not notice his uncomfortable condition as he poured a bucket of warm water over Darcy's head.

He stood so that Andrews could help him on with his robe, and Darcy hastily tied it closed.

"I will summon you when I require further assistance, Andrews," he said.

"Very good, sir," the valet responded, hiding his smile as he left the room.

Where is Elizabeth, and what is she doing now, he wondered dreamily. No doubt she has changed out of her soiled garments and is herself bathing...

No! He had to rein himself in, if he were to survive this day.

Draperies, he thought desperately. Lacy, delicate ones to reflect her femininity. A new carpet, in softer, muted colours. And an exquisite pianoforte, for her own use. The instrument she was accustomed to playing at Longbourn was old and out of tune.

It would have amused the Pemberley staff to know that their master, who had been satisfied to retain the same furnishings his parents had installed many years ago, was giving such minute consideration to their replacements. It was Darcy's intention to keep his mind innocuously occupied so that it would not stray in a more dangerous direction!

Elizabeth, for her part, had no such intentions. As she luxuriated in her bath, her mind was agreeably engaged with thoughts of her fiance. Specifically, she envisioned his body. She had never seen a man so intimately before and had nothing with which to compare what she had seen today, yet she instinctively knew that Fitzwilliam Darcy was an exceptionally beautiful specimen of a man. After their...and here she had the grace to blush...pinnacle of pleasure, he had stood and turned around as he pulled up his breeches, and she had gazed with curiosity upon his bare posterior. She had a vague feeling that the admiring arousal she had felt was somehow improper, that a true lady would have averted her eyes at such a sight.

She sighed at the memory. What a lovely sight it had been. His long, lean, taut body, such a contrast to her soft, womanly one. They had fit together so perfectly. And more important than how well they physically complemented each other, their sensual instincts had been in perfect harmony.

She did not have to wonder whether Darcy was thinking of her. She was certain he was. And now, they would have to go down to lunch and pretend that nothing improper had occurred between them. Darcy, she knew, would maintain a respectful distance in company, but now she knew who he truly was, and she was most satisfied in the knowledge that she had been able to draw out the man hidden beneath the proper aspect he presented to the world.

The thought both excited and awed her. That part of him will always be mine alone.

It happened that both Darcy and Elizabeth left their chambers to proceed downstairs to lunch at the same time.

"This is an unexpected pleasure, Mr. Darcy," Elizabeth said teasingly. "I had assumed your exertions of this morning had exhausted you so thoroughly that you would require a nap this afternoon."

"I am of a strong constitution, Elizabeth, and have recovered so well from this morning's exertions that I am more than prepared to exert myself once again. After you, my dear," he said, as they reached the top of the stairs.

As soon as she stepped ahead of him, he caught her from behind, his arms wrapped around her waist. He pressed up against her, and she murmured, "Ah, yes, Fitzwilliam, I can feel the evidence of your recovery!"

"Sit next to me at lunch," he demanded.

"I suppose it may well be safer to have you next to me than behind me."

"Perhaps," he said wickedly. "But do not rely upon it!"

Elizabeth soon learned that his words were no idle threat. Darcy took full advantage of their proximity during lunch to press his muscular thigh against her leg, then boldly crossed his foot over her ankle so as to nudge her legs apart.

His brazen action had the desired effect, to remind her of their interlude in the woods that morning. Elizabeth's eyes dropped to Darcy's lap, and she whispered, "Recovered, indeed!"

Caroline Bingley, sitting opposite them with Mr. Clifton, stared disapprovingly. Really, their behaviour was abominable! Elizabeth Bennet had obviously won Darcy's hand by allowing him liberties no true lady would allow.

"Miss Elizabeth, you and Mr. Darcy were missed this morning after breakfast. The two of you could have walked to Meryton and back in less time."

"Exercise is most beneficial, Miss Bingley," Darcy answered seriously, placing his hand on Elizabeth's knee under the table.

"Miss Eliza has always been an excellent walker," she said snidely. "I shall never forget the first time she appeared here at Netherfield, covered in mud, after walking nearly three miles."

"Nor shall I," Darcy responded. "I came upon her in the woods and she walked so briskly to the house I could not keep up with her." Perhaps because her appearance was so arousing, my breeches became uncomfortably snug and I found it difficult to walk!

"You had no difficulty keeping up with me this morning, Sir," Elizabeth said naughtily.

"Keeping up with you is a pleasure, Miss Elizabeth."

Caroline rolled her eyes. Truly, the pair of them were insufferable!

Mr. Clifton remained silent during this exchange, rather amused at Caroline's attempts to discomfit Elizabeth and Darcy, and the manner in which they, in turn, fielded her attempts with skill and good humour.

Bingley frowned. What was Caroline hinting? He had indeed noticed that Darcy and Elizabeth had been absent an inexplicably long time this morning, but he had attributed it to their desire to become better acquainted in private. Surely Darcy's fine sense of propriety would prevent him from compromising Elizabeth in any way.

Still, Bingley well remembered the frustration of his own courtship and betrothal to Jane, and how close they had come on more than occasion to crossing the line of what was permissible for a couple who was engaged but not yet married. And while he did have some sympathy for Darcy's predicament, he felt it his duty as Elizabeth's brother-in-law to have a frank conversation with his friend.

Bingley observed Darcy that evening as he stared at Elizabeth. Elizabeth's eyes rose slowly to meet Darcy's, and Darcy, a glimmer of a smile on his lips, deliberately dropped his gaze so that it rested briefly upon Elizabeth's ample cleavage. Elizabeth, to Bingley's surprise, did not appear disturbed by Darcy's blatant ogling of her figure; rather she smiled seductively back at him when he raised his eyes to look once again at her face. It was as though, Bingley thought, they had momentarily become unaware there was anyone else in the room.

Darcy finally caught himself when Bingley gazed at him curiously. He coughed slightly and turned, moving in the direction of the window.
"I say, Darcy, might I have a word with you? In private?"

Darcy sighed. "Of course, Charles." The two young men left the room.

Jane approached her sister and laughed.

"I am afraid my husband is going to take poor Mr. Darcy to task for his blatant displays of affection, Lizzy," she whispered, so that Caroline might not overhear.

"Surely we are allowed a bit of flirtation, are we not, now that we are engaged?"

"Charles fears the two of you may be on the verge of going beyond flirtation, Lizzy."

"And if we were?" Elizabeth asked defiantly.

"He has appointed himself your protector, Lizzy! As we have no brothers and Father is...well you know Papa's ways."

"I am not in need of protection, Jane. I welcome Mr. Darcy's attentions."

"Lizzy! It is less than five weeks until your wedding. Charles is concerned, that is all."

"These five weeks cannot pass quickly enough! Oh, Jane, how I long for..." and here Lizzy stopped, embarrassed to continue.

"I understand, Lizzy, believe me, I do. What you long for is quite wonderful, and it is worth waiting for."

"Fear not, Jane. It is unlikely Mr. Darcy and I will have much opportunity to conduct ourselves in a less than exemplary manner!"

"And that is for the best, Lizzy. Come, let us sit down for coffee."

Some time later, Darcy and Bingley returned. Bingley appeared serious, Darcy even more so. Darcy seated himself across the table from Elizabeth, determined to keep his eyes focused above her neck. Even so, he could not help staring at her, captivated by her every smile, her every word, her every expression. More than once, his thoughts drifted to their intimacy of the morning, and each time he forced himself to direct his mind in a less stimulating direction.

Elizabeth was so puzzled by his ever-changing expressions that she finally leaned forward and asked, "Fitzwilliam! You are so quiet. Of what are you thinking?"

He blinked and gave what Elizabeth considered a most surprising response.
"Draperies."

Chapter 18

Charles had strongly suggested to Darcy that he leave Netherfield for Pemberley so that he and Elizabeth would not be subjected to so much temptation. It was obvious that theirs was a passionate attachment, and Charles could not condone the prospect of such goings-on under his roof.

"Please, Darcy, understand that this is for the best. Elizabeth is Jane's sister, and you are like a brother to me. I believe it is best that the two of you be at a comfortable distance from each other. It would not be fair to have Elizabeth return to Longbourn at this juncture, as Jane delights in her company and welcomes her assistance in caring for baby Charles. I am sure there are matters at Pemberley requiring your attention, preparations to be made for your marriage. Elizabeth will remain here at Netherfield for a fortnight, and then you may call upon her at Longbourn when she returns there."

"Well, thank you, Bingley, for arranging my life so neatly. Has it not occurred to you that I do not desire to be separated from Elizabeth for two entire weeks?"

"And has it not occurred to you, my friend, that your attentions to Elizabeth are bordering alarmingly on the improper? I observed the way you looked at her this afternoon, and you may be assured that if I noticed, others did as well. If you have no concern for your own reputation, you might at least have some for hers. There are those who deem her an unsuitable wife for you...yes, you know it is so, Darcy! There was a time when you thought so yourself, you cannot deny it. Why give her detractors fodder for scandalous gossip?"

Darcy was surprised by his friend's perceptiveness. And Bingley thought Darcy's attentions bordered on the improper? He shuddered to think what Bingley would say of his activities that morning, which had crossed any and all possible borders of propriety!

"Perhaps you are right, Bingley."

Bingley nodded. "It is imperative that you control yourself this one last evening, Darcy, in particular because my sister is in the house. There is no one with a greater love for gossip than Caroline, I am afraid, and I am saddened to admit that I suspect she would take delight in besmirching Elizabeth's reputation."

"Point taken, Bingley."

"No hard feelings, Darcy?"

"None at all, Charles."

"A fortnight will pass quickly, as you will be occupied with Pemberley and Elizabeth with helping Jane with the baby. And just think what a joyful reunion you will have at the end of those two weeks."

"Charles, rather than calling upon Elizabeth at Longbourn, I desire that she visit Pemberley before our marriage. If you will allow it, of course," Darcy said drily.

"I can hardly prevent it, Darcy! You would have no objection to our accompanying her?"

"Of course not. By all means, you are welcome as well."

It struck Charles that a subtle reversal of roles had taken place between himself and Darcy. It had always been Darcy who had directed Bingley's actions, influencing him, generally for good, except in the most important matter of his courtship of Jane Bennet. In that instance, Darcy had allowed his snobbery to dictate how he exercised his considerable influence on Bingley.

Now it was Charles, in essence Elizabeth's "brother," who had the upper hand. Truth be told, he was rather enjoying the sensation of having a measure of temporary control over Mr. Darcy.

And he had no regrets whatsoever about exercising that control. Giving Darcy a small dose of his own medicine was not unpleasant! In fact, it was downright satisfying.

It was agreed that in two weeks' time, Elizabeth would set out for Pemberley, accompanied by Charles and Caroline Bingley. Jane thought it better that she remain at Netherfield with the baby. Darcy graciously asked that Mr. Clifton accompany them as well, his ulterior motive being that Clifton might be useful in keeping Caroline Bingley at a distance from himself and Elizabeth. Their visit would be brief, its purpose being to introduce Elizabeth to Pemberley and its staff, and they planned to return together to Hertfordshire. Darcy would spend the week before the wedding at Netherfield, and Lizzy at Longbourn. Bingley was satisfied that these arrangements would protect Lizzy's honour while allowing Darcy the pleasure of her company, properly chaperoned, during the days preceding their marriage.

Darcy, despite Charles's warnings and because of their impending separation, did manage one last romantic tryst with Elizabeth during his final night at Netherfield. He lay awake in bed, wondering how he would survive not seeing his beloved for a fortnight, and he sensed that her feelings were similar to his. When he had told her earlier in the evening of his plans to return to Pemberley, not revealing that he was in large measure forced into it by Charles, he had seen the sadness in her eyes. He found himself comforting her, while secretly gladdened that she would feel the separation as keenly as he would.

So he felt certain that she would welcome his presence that night. It was nearly 2 a.m., the house utterly still, when he gently knocked upon her bedchamber door. Lizzy came to the door so quickly, he knew she had not been asleep.
"I could not sleep for wanting you, William," she said simply. "Please come in."

"Lizzy," he whispered. "I do not dare to enter your room. Charles warned me in no uncertain terms this evening against taking liberties."

"You do not take them, William. I give them."

"Bless you for that, my dearest love. But I cannot allow you to become the subject of idle gossip, and I fear my ardour may have already contributed to speculation."

"Then why do you seek me out now, William?"

"Because I need to hold you, Lizzy. Closely, intimately, when you are not covered with so many superfluous layers of clothing!"

"I fear my wardrobe will suffer as your wife, William, as you will prefer me half dressed at all times!"

"I own that I would, Lizzy. Even the lightest of nightdresses, as you wear now, conceals too much. Would that I could remove it and carry you to bed."

Elizabeth was in his arms in an instant.

"You know, do you not, that my own wishes are identical to yours?" she asked.

"Yes," he said huskily. "I cannot express how much that means to me, Elizabeth."

He leaned down to kiss her, holding her tightly against his body. Her nearness, her scent, her warm breath on his face, were intoxicating. He was sorely tempted to follow through with his wish to take her to bed, Charles Bingley and the rest of the world be damned. He would marry her tomorrow if need be!

But then he remembered Charles's warning, that those who thought he was marrying beneath him would delight in Elizabeth's reputation being tainted. So in the end, he satisfied himself with a passionate kiss and embrace because he loved Elizabeth so much, he could not bear the thought of his love causing her a moment's grief or censure.

"When finally I make love to you, Lizzy, as you deserve to be loved, it will be with the blessing of God and the Church, at Pemberley, where we may lock the door and shut out the world. I shan't let you out of bed for two weeks, to compensate for the coming two weeks I will be without you!"

"That seems fair compensation, Sir," Elizabeth answered with a smile. She reached up to stroke his cheek, then wrapped her arms around his waist. As he kissed her again, her hands moved downward, pressing against his bottom so firmly that they were both keenly cognizant of the fact that only two cotton night garments separated the most intimate parts of their bodies.
"I dare say you are not thinking of draperies now, Fitzwilliam?"

"Definitely not."

"Of what are you thinking, then?"

"I am thinking of the fine summer morning, five weeks hence, when you will take me as your wedded husband, Lizzy."

"And of the night that will follow, my love?" she whispered.

"I think of that constantly," he replied, thrilling to the sound of her sweet voice, calling him my love.

He held her more tightly. "I have never loved anyone as fervently as I do you, Lizzy. I fear sometimes that you are an illusion, that I will awaken and my loneliness and despair will return."

She softly kissed his bare throat. "Were you really so very unhappy, William?"

It was difficult for him to speak of it.

"During the year we were separated, most particularly the first few months, I couldthink of nothing but you. I knew I had been shown the way to happiness and lost it...lost you. I went away because I could not bear to be at Pemberley. Everything I did there, everything I saw...I wanted you there with me, as my wife, and I was certain it would never be so. Even though you had never been there, I felt your absence, because in my heart, I knew it was where you belonged."

Elizabeth was touched by his poignant admission.

"Do not dwell on the past, William. Think of it no more. We are together now and all is true and wonderful between us; never did I think I could be so at ease with any man. You are the partner of my soul."

Because of her simple words and one long, tender kiss, what remained of Darcy's anxiety melted away. Elizabeth loved him, as devotedly and completely as he loved her. He could face anything now, even the two weeks without her that loomed ahead.

And when the two weeks had ended, she would be at Pemberley. The woman dearest to his heart, at the place he loved best in the world.

Chapter 19

Charles Bingley was right.

Two weeks passed very quickly...for him!

But for Darcy and Elizabeth, the two weeks seemed interminable.

Darcy had learned, during the years since his father's death, to get along very well on his own. The person to whom he had always been closest, Georgiana, was more than ten years his junior, and while he loved her dearly, it was she who had depended on him for care and comfort. Darcy himself had depended on no one.

So it came as something of a shock to him to discover how quickly his happiness had come to depend upon Elizabeth Bennet. He was lost without her. He dreamed of her every night and the dreams varied according to his level of loneliness and frustration.

Some of his dreams were comforting. These were not at all sexual in nature; rather, he would awaken feeling not aroused, but cherished. It was as though Elizabeth were next to him, and he felt enveloped by her love and devotion. He could almost feel her physical warmth, and it took some minutes for him to come to the disappointed realization that she was not truly there with him physically. These dreams made him long for the day, coming in just a matter of weeks, when he would, in reality, awaken in the warmth of her embrace.

Other dreams were more explicit. Sometimes they were a replay of sorts, as though he were a spectator at Netherfield, watching Elizabeth and himself in their first discoveries of the physical delights their love could bring. Or they were even more explicit than reality, and he saw himself making love to her fully, as he would when they were married.

A few dreams were disturbing. In them, he was without her, as he had been after his proposal at Hunsford. He saw himself walking from the parsonage as he had that heartbreaking day, angry with her and angry with himself for his weakness in allowing himself to love her. He would tell himself in his dream, "No, she loves me, she is mine...wake up!" When he did awaken, he would be bathed in sweat, his heart racing, until he recovered his mental capacities and realized he had been having a nightmare. There was no prospect more terrifying to him than returning to what he was last year, when he despaired of Elizabeth's ever loving him.

He counted the days until she arrived at Pemberley, and as the day approached he grew anxious. She had written him but once, having teasingly admitted to him before his departure that she was a poor correspondent. Her letter's tone had been loving, but it had not been a "love letter."

My dearest Fitzwilliam,

Will you be angry with me when I admit that perhaps our forced separation has been for the best?

Being at Netherfield without you has allowed me to take long walks in the park without arousing anyone's suspicions or concerns. Of course, when I visit that very special, secluded spot we visited together last week, it does inspire recollections which cause me to wish mightily for your presence! You are subject to no such uncomfortable recollections, I am sure, and occupy yourself with the furnishings of Pemberley. I shall be most disappointed if you have not installed suitable draperies, Fitzwilliam, as you devoted considerable time to contemplating their selection even whilst still at Netherfield.

I do apologize for the brevity of this letter. Baby Charles is crying, and Jane needs my assistance. We shall be leaving for Pemberley in six short days (you see, Fitzwilliam, I truly am counting the days), when I shall resume teasing you in person rather than in writing!

Until then, my love.

Yours,

Elizabeth

Darcy knew he was being lovingly teased, although he felt a strong urge to spank her for the deliberate impertinence of the drapery comment! He envisioned, for a moment, Elizabeth across his lap with her skirts raised, and became immediately and uncomfortably aroused. He considered his response to her letter and actually began to write:

I am sorely disappointed that you doubt the industriousness of my efforts to prepare Pemberley for your arrival, Elizabeth, and I have, indeed, ordered new draperies. I am tempted to spank you for your impertinence when you arrive, but I fear Charles will not allow us sufficient time alone.

He read what he had written and groaned. To Elizabeth, teasing came naturally, while his own sounded forced, even haughty. He tore up the sheet of paper and began anew.

My dearest Elizabeth:

I hope this letter finds you and your family well and that you are anticipating your stay at Pemberley as eagerly as I am.

I have, indeed, devoted much of my time preparing Pemberley for your arrival and I trust my efforts will meet with your satisfaction.

He sighed. This latest effort was even worse than the first! It sounded so impersonal and stilted. Perhaps the third time would be the charm.

Elizabeth, my love:

You may tease me all you like, my impertinent lady, but trust me when I say all thoughts of draperies and furnishings will be banished from your mind when you are again in my presence. If I take you to my bedchamber, it shall not be to show you its furnishings, but to utilize it for that most pleasurable purpose for which our marital bedchamber will always be intended.

So, my dear, if you teasingly request to see those "draperies and furnishings" upon your arrival at Pemberley, you must be prepared to accept the consequences. Consider yourself warned.

Dream of me tonight, my love, as I dream of you.

Fitzwilliam

He smiled and nodded with satisfaction as he sealed the letter. He would intentionally post it late enough so that she would have no opportunity to write a response before her departure. He wanted her to stew a bit!

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
It was fortunate, indeed, that Elizabeth was alone when she opened Darcy's letter. With just a few brief words, Darcy had made his point very well! The deepest of blushes overspread her face, and his letter accomplished its intended purpose, namely to inspire in her an intense physical longing for her beloved.

"Consider yourself warned." Oh, my!

"Dream of me tonight, my love." No doubt she would, on this last night she would spend at Netherfield before departing for Pemberley.

Despite the lighthearted tone of the letter she had written, Elizabeth was finding it more difficult to tolerate their separation than she cared to admit. She had become accustomed to Darcy's presence, his loving glances, his surreptitious touches. She tucked his letter under her pillow so that she might read it again before retiring for the night.

Tomorrow, the party of four would leave for Pemberley. While these two weeks had been a time of waiting and longing for Elizabeth and Darcy, for Caroline Bingley and Mr. Clifton, the time had passed much more eventfully.

Charles Bingley had been more than happy to accede to Alex Clifton's request to court his sister. Alex, for whatever reason, seemed to bring out the best in Caroline. Caroline encouraged his attentions, although she did not behave as one would expect a woman in love to behave, but for that matter, neither did Alex behave as an ardent lover.

Caroline had been incensed when she learned Elizabeth Bennet and Mr. Darcy planned to marry at the end of June. An engagement of less than six weeks! It was unthinkable. How on earth was she to plan a wedding quickly enough so that it would precede theirs? The answer was that it simply was not possible. And she could hardly broach the subject of a wedding to her brother before she was even officially engaged.

Mr. Clifton never told her he loved her, but Caroline was not perturbed. The man found her desirable, she told herself, and he was a man of means and property. He humoured her -- up to a point, as he did not hesitate to point it out to her when her behaviour was rude or her actions unacceptable.

Caroline did wonder why he never tried to take liberties, although she would not have allowed them. It did not make Mr. Clifton any less desirable as a prospective husband, in fact, the opposite was true. Her admiration of Mr. Darcy had never extended to her wanting his physical person. She wanted Mr. Darcy because, as she saw it, he was the man any single woman (and several married women as well!) in their circle would have wanted, and nothing pleased Caroline better than having something everyone else wanted and could not have.

Mr. Clifton would never be the catch Mr. Darcy was, and it had grated on her nerves every time she saw Darcy with his intended bride, because the two of them were obviously so besotted with each other, always making sheep's eyes at each other, and "accidentally" touching each other when they thought no one was looking at them. Nothing she said, not matter how pointed or insulting, seemed to disturb them. She was positive she even saw the austere Mr. Darcy laughing at her the evening before he left for Pemberley! How dare he?

She decided that while she could not stage her wedding sooner than Elizabeth's, she would exceed it in grandeur and elegance. She accelerated her efforts to impress upon Mr. Clifton that she would eagerly accept his proposals. One Sunday afternoon, less than a week after Darcy left for Pemberley, Mr. Clifton knelt before her and had barely gotten the words "Will you marry me, Caroline?" out of his mouth before she answered, "Yes, Alex, I will!"

There, that was done. She anticipated her journey to Pemberley with Charles, if for no other reason than to throw her engagement in Darcy's face. She planned to spend the weeks after Darcy's wedding, leading up to her own planned ceremony in September, shopping for the most expensive and ornate wedding garments. Only the best of everything would do for Caroline Bingley, and she anticipated the day when Mr. Clifton's considerable resources would be at her disposal so she could begin the transformation of Rosewood Manor into as close an approximation of Pemberley as large quantities of money (and her questionable taste!) would allow.

If Caroline had hoped her loudly and frequently announced plans for the grandest wedding imaginable would incite any feelings of regret in Elizabeth at her own, more quickly arranged celebration, she was sorely disappointed. Elizabeth and Darcy, for reasons of their own, wanted nothing more than to be married as speedily as possible, and more than once had discussed the tempting option of letting others plan a wedding while they stole away to Gretna Green, where they could marry and find a nearby inn where they could consummate their simmering passions before their marriage was an hour old! Their brief sojourn at Netherfield had been one of the rare opportunities before the wedding to be alone long enough to satisfy their need for each other.

Elizabeth offered her congratulations to Caroline and Clifton on their engagement, but secretly she feared that happiness would be impossible for Alex Clifton. She strongly suspected that his affections were engaged elsewhere, and she doubted his compatibility with Caroline Bingley. Elizabeth was certain that, were Caroline ever to suspect that Alex cared for Jane Bingley, she would make his life miserable.

After a night during which Elizabeth dreamed incessantly of Darcy, she awakened early so that she might prepare to leave for Pemberley. She mused that if Darcy proved to be as skillful a lover in reality as he was in her dreams, married life would be pleasant, indeed!

She read his arousing little tease of a letter one last time before they departed, then tucked it within the pages of the book of sonnets she packed in her truck. It might be amusing, she thought with a mischievious smile, to confront him with the letter when she arrived at Pemberley and demand that he expound on its meaning. She was still occupied with daydreaming about the possible outcome of such a scenario as the carriage pulled away from Netherfield.

Chapter 20

Darcy found himself standing near the window during much of the afternoon upon which he expected Elizabeth to arrive at Pemberley. He had dreamed of this day for so long; indeed, well before he proposed to her at Kent.

If he had been completely honest with himself, he would have realized that he had begun to think of marrying her on the evening of the Netherfield Ball. He remembered how irritated he had been because of her obvious partiality towards Wickham, and how frustrated he had felt at his inability to reveal Wickham's deficiencies of character to her.

After their dance together, which had been fraught with misunderstanding and repressed passion on his part, he had found himself observing her mother and sisters. Although he had never said the words, even to himself, he knew now that he had used her family's impropriety as justification for ruling out the possibility of considering Elizabeth as a possible bride. And he had left Netherfield soon after, taking Bingley with him, because subconsciously he knew he would not have been able to be close to Elizabeth without wanting her as his own. If he had followed his heart instead of his logical mind, he would have cast aside his doubts and pursued her then.

When he saw her again at Rosings, he was utterly lost, and he knew it. When he returned to Pemberley, her angry, scornful words still ringing in his ears, he had felt the loss of her keenly. She should be here with me.

And now, finally, she would be.

Georgiana smiled as she watched him. His anticipation was transparently delightful to behold, and she rejoiced for him.

"Fitzwilliam, why do we not wait outside. It is a beautiful day, and..."

He looked up.

"Is it that obvious, Georgiana? How eagerly I anticipate Elizabeth's arrival?"

"Yes it is, William. Obvious, and understandable." She slipped her arm through his.

They stood at the end of the footpath, where the road began. Darcy looked off into the distance, listening for the sound of a carriage approaching.

"I want to see her face, when she looks upon Pemberley for the first time," he said softly.

The brother and sister stood together in companionable silence for some minutes, when at last, Darcy squinted, gazing down the road.

"I believe..." he said, resisting the impulse to hasten down the path to meet the carriage he saw in the distance. As soon as he could make out the outline of Elizabeth's face...she was wearing a blue bonnet...he kept his eyes fixed on her. As the carriage drew nearer, she saw him as well, and a wide smile illuminated her face.

She had indeed admired the grounds, the foliage, the lake, the bridge; she had exclaimed at all of these, until she saw Darcy waiting for her, and she was then so fixated on his beloved face, that all else was of no consequence. Darcy could not be disappointed at her lack of expression upon arriving at Pemberley House, because she did not even see it. All she saw, all she wanted to see, was him.

She was standing before the carriage came to a stop; he was there extending his hand to her before she stood. Charles's greeting, Caroline's face, Clifton's smile, all these were but a blur to him as he reached up to her. Rather than taking her hand, he grasped her about her slim waist, and lifted her up and out of the carriage, kissing her before her feet even touched the ground.

"Oh, Lizzy, Lizzy," he murmured. "You are home."

In some ways, Darcy had felt the pain of this recent two-week separation more than he had during the year he had been away from her company. For now she belonged to him and he knew, rather than merely suspected, the joy she could give him. He sat next to her at tea, accompanied her on a short tour of the gardens, then escorted her to her chamber so that she might rest for an hour or two before dressing for dinner. He wished, most irrationally, that he might be free of the watchful eyes of Charles Bingley so that he might enter her chamber and lie down next to her, holding her in his arms while she slept. Just two more weeks, he thought.

As the dinner hour approached, he waited at the foot of the stairs, debating whether to go upstairs and knock on her door, but before he could decide, he saw her coming down the stairs.

She was wearing a simple frock of the palest shade of rose. Its soft fabric clung to her figure and when she reached the bottom step, Darcy had to resist the impulse to bury his face between the cleft of her creamy breasts, temptingly displayed by the garment's daring neckline.

"Lizzy," he whispered. "You are driving me mad! I am aching for you."

"No less than am I, for you," she replied, taking his arm so that he might escort her into dinner. They were alone in the hall, so Darcy clasped her to him, then kissed her soundly, not caring if anyone observed them. Hang it all, he thought, in two weeks we shall be one, and I shall answer to no one.

Charles turned the corner and did, indeed, see them, but as Darcy then broke the kiss and turned to enter the dining room with Elizabeth, he remained silent. He waited until the couple were out of sight before he himself proceeded into dinner.

Dinner was a festive occasion, Darcy heartily congratulating Caroline and Mr. Clifton on their engagement. Caroline made a point of describing in minute detail all her elaborate preparations for her wedding and was disappointed to realize that Elizabeth Bennet was barely listening. She made an appropriate response now and then, but she could not take her eyes off Mr. Darcy, who returned her stares with equal intensity.

Mr. Clifton was unusually quiet and drank a bit more wine than was his custom. He listened to Caroline's descriptions of their upcoming wedding with some interest, but wryly thought he was little more than an invited guest. All he need do was arrive at the church, and Caroline would orchestrate the rest! Charles Bingley sat across the table from him, and the more Clifton drank, the freer he felt to regard his friend in an odd manner, making Charles somewhat uncomfortable for reasons he could not fully understand.

"I believe you must be missing the company of your lovely wife, Charles," he said.

Charles sighed. "I must admit that is so, Alex, but she thought it best that she remain at home with the little one. She is not yet feeling up to the rigours of a long journey."

"Perhaps we might engage in pursuits of a manly nature, Charles, as you find yourself unaccompanied. Might I suggest a game of billiards?"

"Excellent idea, Alex," Bingley responded.

Clifton took a long swig of wine, draining the glass, and poured another. He stood, a bit unsteadily, and nodded to the others.

"Will you excuse us?"

"Certainly," Darcy responded, somewhat miffed that Clifton intended to leave his annoying fiancee behind. Georgiana, claiming fatigue, had retired early, so Caroline Bingley was all that stood between his having some time alone with Elizabeth, which he sorely craved.

"So, Miss Eliza, you have spoken little of your wedding plans. It does seem rather a hurried affair!"

"Yes, I suppose it is," Elizabeth replied placidly.

Caroline waited for her to expound on her simple statement, but Elizabeth remained silent, so she tried another approach.

"I can hardly believe there has been time enough for you to prepare for a wedding of the magnitude Mr. Darcy requires, but I suppose you are in a hurry to marry and live at Pemberley."

"On the contrary, Miss Bingley," Darcy said, unable to remain silent, "it was I who suggested a speedy marriage, and had Miss Bennet truly been in a hurry to marry and live at Pemberley, she would have accepted..."

Elizabeth lay a quieting hand on his arm. Caroline Bingley need not know that Darcy had proposed to her for the first time last year!

"I am fatigued from today's long journey, Miss Bingley," Elizabeth said. "Will you be good enough to excuse me?"

"Certainly, Miss Eliza." I will be more than happy to amuse Mr. Darcy in your absence!

Darcy offered Elizabeth his arm and smiled.

"I will, of course, show you to your room. Good night, Miss Bingley."

Seeing her surprise at his rudeness in leaving her alone, Darcy could not resist adding, "Mr. Clifton is in the billiard room with Charles. You might want to seek him out and inform him of your latest wedding plans!"

Caroline was fuming when they left the room. She would, indeed, seek out Mr. Clifton and her brother so that she could inform them that Elizabeth's bad breeding seemed to be rubbing off on Mr. Darcy. She made her way down the hall, and turned the corner to open the door of the billiard room, ready to begin speaking the moment she entered.

She stood frozen, unable to speak, a rarity for Caroline Bingley. Charles was leaning forward over the billiard table, cue in hand, positioning himself to take his shot. Mr. Clifton was behind him, nearly on top of him, his own arm covering Charles's. His face was turned to the side, so that Caroline could see his expression. Eyes glazed, complexion heightened, his breathing was audibly laboured.

He straightened immediately when he saw Caroline, and Charles made the shot.

"There, Charles!" he said, his speech slurred. "You can thank me for that shot, my friend. I loosened him up, Caroline, showed him how to position his arms just so!"

"You are drunk, Alex!" Caroline exclaimed.

Charles looked at his sister sheepishly. There was an open bottle of wine on the sideboard, and without Jane's tempering presence, he had imbibed a bit too enthusiastically himself. He had not indulged as freely as Clifton, but then again, he did not have to face the prospect of marriage to Caroline!

"I apologize, my dear lady," Clifton said expansively.

"It has been a long day," Charles said, "and perhaps it is time we all retire for the evening."

Clifton attempted to approach Caroline, but she stopped him.

"Do not speak to me again, Alex, until you have recovered your faculties!"

She stormed out of the room ahead of the two men. Charles supported his friend as they mounted the stairs, and when they reached the top, they saw Elizabeth and Darcy standing outside her bedchamber, engaged in quiet conversation. Darcy was holding her hand, gazing into her eyes, and Bingley was satisfied that his behaviour was all that was proper.

Bingley, due to the fatiguing nature of the day's journey and the excess of alcohol he had consumed, found himself anxious to retire. He bade them all good night, and when Darcy was once again alone with Elizabeth, he whispered, "It appears Charles will sleep most soundly tonight, my love."

Elizabeth dropped her gaze, then looked up again, her eyes clear and her expression steady and assured.

"Show me our chambers, William. I would so like to see its furnishings by candlelight. And yes, I am more than willing, as you indicated in your letter, to face the consequences!"

Darcy nodded.

"Lizzy, I have already acquired the license. Marry me tomorrow, here at Pemberley. No one need know, we can go through with the ceremony at Longbourn in two weeks' time if you like."

She took his hands in hers and brought them to her lips to kiss them.

"Yes William, I will marry you tomorrow. But please, my love, make me your wife tonight."

Chapter 21

Darcy was a mere mortal, and as such, was as tempted as would any man be when faced with a beautiful, willing woman who would, after all, be his wife very soon, whether it be tomorrow, or in two weeks' time. But he was also a man who was accustomed to thinking for others: his family, his friends, his tenants; and tonight he would think for both himself and Elizabeth. He knew what he wanted, but he also knew what was best, and he came to a decision.

"No, Lizzy, I will not make you my wife in the manner you imply until we are married in the eyes of God. However...," and here he paused, bending down to kiss her lips, "...however, there is no reason to wait for two weeks, or even until tomorrow."

"What is your meaning, William?"

"I have no doubt that the Rev. Mr. Presley, with the proper inducement, will be most willing to marry us tonight."

"William, it is after ten o'clock, surely Rev. Presley is asleep!"

"Perhaps, but I will exercise my right as his patron and landlord to awaken him. His vocation requires him to be available for any situation of urgency that arises at Pemberley."

"William, I dare say that a marriage ceremony that could just as easily take place tomorrow or two weeks from now hardly qualifies as 'urgent.'"

"Lizzy," he whispered. "I want you tonight. Urgently!"

"But, William," she replied, in an exasperated manner. "I have already informed you that I am willing to..." she blushed and swallowed hard, unable to say the words... "and that we can wait until tomorrow to marry!"

He leaned back against the wall, his arms folded.

"No," he said simply. "Marry me tonight, or I shall bid you good night and retire to my own bedchamber."

"William, you know it is impossible for us to marry tonight!"

"I intend to make it possible. Just this once I will behave in a manner that will justify your early opinion of me, Lizzy. Arrogant...demanding..."

He crushed her to him, kissing her until she was breathless.

"Say yes," he demanded, and when she did not respond quickly enough, he kissed her again.

"Say yes," he repeated.

"William, I..."

He kissed her yet again.

"We can be back here in an hour's time, Lizzy. In my bed, together. And should we be discovered, a certificate of marriage will quell all of Bingley's protests!"
His body was pressed hard against hers, reminding her of what awaited her in his bed tonight, and what she would forego should she reject his proposal.

"You are insufferable! Yes, then! Yes!"

"Come with me then, Lizzy. I will send my man for the carriage. And we must be quiet, my love, I do not want to awaken..."

He looked past Elizabeth, a startled expression on his face. She turned her head, following his gaze.

Georgiana stood at the end of the corridor outside her bedchamber.

"I heard voices, and...why are you sending for your carriage, Fitzwilliam? What is the matter?" She looked at her brother with concern.

"We decided...that is, I wish..." Darcy's voice trailed off.

"What is it, William? Please tell me, is anything wrong?"

"We are going to Kympton, Georgiana, to be married."

"Tonight? Whatever for, William? Are you not to be married at Longbourn in just two weeks' time?"

"Yes, but Elizabeth is here now, at Pemberley, and I..." Good Lord, this was embarrassing.

Georgiana's expression softened.

"I see." And, indeed, she did.

She came to Elizabeth and took her hands.

"As I am so anxious to have you as a sister, Elizabeth, I find it easy to understand why Fitzwilliam can wait no longer to have you as his wife. You may both count upon me to be discreet."

Darcy hugged her and kissed the top of her head.

"Bless you, dearest. We will return quickly, I promise."

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
When the Rev. Mr. Elton Presley was awakened by his manservant, who informed him that Mr. Darcy of Pemberley was in the parlour and was in need of his services immediately, he thought the worst: that someone at the great house was gravely ill or injured and required last rites. He hastily changed out of his nightclothes into his customary clerical attire and awakened his wife as well.

With his wife beside him, he was surprised to find Mr. Darcy waiting downstairs accompanied by a lovely young woman whom he introduced as Miss Elizabeth Bennet, his intended bride. Reports of Mr. Darcy's engagement had been circulating throughout Derbyshire since his return two weeks ago, and there was much speculation about his fiancee. It had been rumoured that Miss Bennet intended to visit Pemberley before the wedding, but it was curious, indeed, that the wedding was to be such an impromptu affair, and here in Derbyshire!
The Rev. Presley's elderly mother, who lived at the parsonage with her son and daughter-in-law, quickly glanced at the young lady's midsection to determine if the reason for the hurried wedding was the usual one! But no, Miss Bennet did not appear to be with child, and her deportment was that of a true lady. The elder Mrs. Presley narrowed her eyes at Mr. Darcy. Perhaps Mr. Darcy, like other rich, spoiled young men, was accustomed to having his way in all matters, and had attempted to compromise Miss Bennet once she was under his roof.

In that case, she could only assume that it was Miss Bennet who had insisted on the hasty marriage ceremony in order to protect her virtue. The old lady smiled at Miss Bennet approvingly and patted her arm.

"Good girl," she whispered, to the amusement of Mr. Darcy, who instantly comprehended her thought process and wryly thought that, if Mrs. Presley were to know the truth of the matter, she would think Elizabeth a bad girl, indeed!

Mr. Darcy produced the marriage license, and with the Rev. Mr. Presley's mother standing in as witness, Fitzwilliam Darcy and Elizabeth Bennet were united in marriage in the parlour of the parsonage at Kympton. The room was illuminated by more than a dozen candles, one held by the good reverend so that he could read the words of the marriage rites. His own wife Priscilla's eyes filled with tears, so affected was she by the romance of the affair. Such a beautiful couple, Mr. Darcy and his bride! He, so tall and imposing, his usually stoic face alight with a quiet passion tonight, she so young and fresh, her dress, the colour of summer roses, shimmering in the candlelight.

Darcy was quietly assured of the rightness of what they were doing tonight. He knew he could not stay even one night with Elizabeth at Pemberley without having her in his bed, and he would not have her in his bed unless she was his wife. With any luck, and with Georgiana's assistance, no one need know they were married and another marriage ceremony would take place at Longbourn as planned. He would reveal the truth to no other unless it became absolutely necessary to protect Elizabeth's reputation.

"Are we ready to begin?" asked the beaming Rev. Presley. He seldom was called upon to marry as august a personage as Mr. Darcy, and was secretly pleased that the honour had not been given to some other cleric in the wilds of Hertfordshire. He was not disturbed at Mr. Darcy's request that the ceremony be kept secret; in fact, he was flattered to be in Mr. Darcy's confidence. The story of this night was one he would relate, with much embellishment, to his children and grandchildren in years to come.

"I, Fitzwilliam Darcy, take thee, Elizabeth Bennet, as my wedded wife..."

How reverently Darcy pronounced those solemn words, words he had despaired of ever having the privilege of saying. What was the magic in them, he wondered, that elevated their love to something more than what they already shared? Was it for themselves or for God or for the precepts of proper society that they were necessary? For himself, he knew they spoke of possession, of permanence, his declaration to God and to the world and to Elizabeth herself that she was his, and that he was hers, for eternity.

"What God has joined together, let no man put asunder."

Darcy slipped the simple gold band on Elizabeth's finger, and it was done. His fondest hopes, crushed at Hunsford, and resurrected just a few weeks ago in Hertfordshire, were finally realized. Elizabeth's love had been hard won, and he swore to himself that he would strive always to be worthy of it.
With God's blessing now theirs, there was no force on earth that could separate them this night.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
His arms wrapped tightly around her, Darcy held Elizabeth close to his heart during the brief journey back to Pemberley.

My wife, he mused. It is my right to hold her, to kiss her, to take her to my bed. I have had other women, but never before have I loved or been loved.

"I adore you, Mrs. Darcy," he whispered. "I know not how I will prevent myself from proclaiming you 'Mrs. Darcy' to all the world, as tonight I find they are the two most beautiful words in the English language."

"Could I think of a word that would express my love more adequately than 'adoration,' William, I would say it. I can only say that I did not know true happiness until I accepted your love and loved you in return. And the only two words I find more beautiful tonight than 'Mrs. Darcy' are 'my husband.'"

Both Mrs. Darcy and her husband spoke no more, their lips being joined for the first time since their marriage in an activity far more pleasurable than speech.

It was nearly midnight when the Darcy carriage returned to Pemberley. Georgiana had been too excited to go back to sleep, and she was waiting for them in the entrance hall upon their return.

Darcy swept Elizabeth up into his arms and carried her into the house. He smiled broadly at the sight of his sister and said, "Miss Darcy, may I present Mrs. Darcy?"

"Oh, brother, I am overjoyed for the two of you! No one is more deserving of happiness. I should like to kiss you, Elizabeth, if Fitzwilliam would only set you down!"

"Your brother insists on carrying me, Georgiana, although I am quite capable of walking on my own."

"Hush, Elizabeth," he replied. "We do not want to awaken anyone, and one pair of feet on the stairs will create less noise than two!"

"I will bid you good night now," Georgiana said. "I could not sleep until you were safely home."

She blushed and averted her eyes.

"Tomorrow morning, I will knock upon your bedchamber door after everyone else has come down to breakfast, so that you and Miss Bennet...I mean, Mrs. Darcy...will not be observed together."

Darcy was somewhat surprised that his sister was capable of such deviousness, but he was grateful, nonetheless.

"Thank you, Georgiana. Without your assistance, I dare say this happy event might never have taken place. My everlasting gratitude is yours, dear sister."

Georgiana rolled her eyes.

"For goodness sake, Fitzwilliam, it is your wedding night! Enough of your everlasting gratitude!"

Elizabeth laughed at the startled expression on her new husband's face. He shook his head ruefully.
"Two teasing young women, how shall I ever survive?"

Georgiana smiled as she left them, turning on the stairs to blow them a kiss.

"Good night," she said softly. "I love both of you so very much!"

"Well, Elizabeth," Darcy whispered hotly in her ear, "it is time to put the bride to bed. I have dreamed of you, here at Pemberley, in my bed, since...I do believe I had such thoughts very soon after I met you."

Elizabeth responded as he carried her up the stairs.

"You dreamed of me...as your bride, Sir?"

"Mmmm...not necessarily. Not at that juncture," he replied roguishly.

"Yet tonight you insisted on marrying me, William, before taking me to your bed."

"Dreams and reality are not the same thing, Lizzy. I promise you, reality will be much, much better."

"Ah, I see. But it is dreadfully late, William, and I am so fatigued by this eventful day and night, that I may fall asleep when we reach your bedchamber."

He kissed her as he opened the door to his chamber and closed it quietly behind him.

"I think not," he said, as he turned the key in the lock.

Chapter 22

Elizabeth, understandably, had never before been within the confines of a gentleman's bedchamber, and she looked about her with some curiosity after Darcy gently set her down on the bed.

The room was spaciously high-ceilinged and elegant, as would be expected of the room occupied by the master of a great estate such as Pemberley. The four windows facing the front of the house ran nearly ceiling to floor, and upon drawing back the curtains, one was treated to a panoramic view of the park and lake beyond.

The atmosphere of the room was decidedly masculine, its furniture heavy mahogany, the draperies and bedclothes woven in earthy hues. There was a marble mantelpiece atop a large fireplace, its fire unlit as it was early summer and the weather was quite warm. Several books, tossed carelessly on the nightstand next to a drippy candle, attested to Darcy's habit of reading before bed. A pair of high leather boots stood near the door, and a dark blue coat was casually draped over the chair near the writing desk. The room was comfortable and expensively furnished despite its simplicity, but it was lacking in liveliness and warmth.

Until tonight. Just one glimpse of Elizabeth sitting on his bed and for Darcy, the room became a magical place.

He lit a candle and bid her stand so that he could help her undress. There would be no inhibitions tonight, not behind a locked door with his wife. And if they were discovered?

What of it? Truly, he would be relieved if they were spared another wedding ceremony. It was tonight's ceremony that had meaning for him, tonight's ceremony that gave him the right to savour the joy of slowly unveiling his wife's body. He unbuttoned the back of her dress, far enough so that the bodice fell open to her waist, then pulled the pins from her hair, so that her chestnut curls tumbled down around her bare shoulders. Pulling her to him, he kissed her, his hands reaching around her back to open the remaining buttons, and the dress slid down the length of her body to her feet.

Chemise, slippers, stockings: all were removed and discarded, with little care as to where they landed! Soon her hands were pulling at his clothing as eagerly as his, and Darcy felt a surge of unadulterated joy at the sight of her fluid, feminine garments, still warm and fragrant from touching her sweet flesh, mingling with his heavier, tailored ones on the floor and on the chair. How ridiculously miniscule and frivolous her satin slippers appeared next to his large, utilitarian leather boots. A pale silk stocking was caught on the bedpost, and when Elizabeth attempted to remove it, he prevented her from doing so.

"Leave it there," he said, his voice catching.

Shimmering rose silk draped across navy blue broadcloth, soft pale breasts now crushed against a muscled, masculine chest. How foolishly he had struggled against letting this woman into his life and into his heart...and now?

Now there was a silk stocking on his bedpost, and his life was changed forever.

Elizabeth, naked and unashamed, reclined upon the bed. Her husband, tall, proud, aroused, stood before her. She was unafraid, and he was glad of it. He knew her passionate nature, and she was no blushing bride. A virgin, yes, and limited in experience, but no longer the innocent she was just a month ago.

He did not touch her for some minutes, rather he inspected her intimately from head to toe. "Touch me, Elizabeth," he whispered, and she bade him come to her so that she could do as he asked. He got up on the bed and straddled her hips, and she eagerly reached up to stroke his thighs, then took his thick, erect manhood into her hands.

"Closer, William," she pleaded, and when he complied, she kissed his erection and guided it into her mouth. Darcy thought he might die from the pleasure of it, and he closed his eyes, every nerve ending in his body alert and tingling as she sucked him.

He knew he could not endure much longer, and it took all the self control he had remaining to withdraw from her mouth. He spread her legs and knelt between them, slid his hands under her bottom to elevate her, then eased himself into her. He restrained himself, his penetration of her slow and shallow, as he did not want to inflict any more pain on her than was necessary.

"Elizabeth, my wife...my own..." he said She was so tight, so soft, that he feared the stimulation would cause him to spill before he fully penetrated her.

"Oh, God, William, please," she said, and with that, he drew back and plunged into her, erupting inside her as she gave a little gasp of pain.

"Lizzy, Lizzy, I am so sorry, my love...I have hurt you," he cried, tears welling in his eyes as he collapsed on her, his face buried between her breasts..
She comforted him, stroking his back, kissing the top of his head.

"It is all right, William...shhhh...I swear to you, my love, it is all right..."

She had not reached completion, and he knew this.

"I fear, Lizzy...that is...I did not give you the pleasure you deserve."

"Holding you and loving you like this is pleasure enough for now, William. We have tonight, we have the rest of our lives."

Husband and wife lay entwined, Darcy restless at what he saw as his failure to fully love Elizabeth. When she began to softly kiss his neck, her breasts brushing up against his chest, he felt his manhood beginning to stir again, and he was determined to pleasure her to completion.

He nudged her legs open and stroked the silky flesh inside her thighs with his fingertips, then moved higher, slipping one finger inside her, while flicking his thumb against her most sensitive spot. With his other hand he teased her nipples, taking them between his thumb and forefinger, gently squeezing and pulling.

"Talk to me, Lizzy. Tell me how it feels."

"I need more, William. You...you inside me," she whispered.

More than ready to meet her demands, he mounted her, pulling her legs up around his waist. He met little resistance this time as he slid easily inside her, making love to her with long, hard thrusts. She grabbed his hand and guided it between her legs, so that she would be doubly stimulated, and they were so in tune with each other that he immediately knew what it was she wanted, to be touched there as he had touched her before, this time while filling her with his swollen manhood.

"You first this time, Lizzy. Yes, my love. Just like that...tighten...tighten around me."

As if on demand, she felt the first pulsations beginning, crying out and digging her nails into his backside. He responded by thrusting more forcefully into her, holding back his own orgasm until he felt hers gaining strength.

When finally she tensed her body, straining upwards and crying out, he plunged deep inside her and remained still so that he could better feel her body's every shuddering spasm. When she came down from the peak and he felt her softening and heard her contented sighs, he pulled back and gazed upon her face with satisfaction. Only then would he take his own pleasure, gently, slowly, murmuring her name.

Darcy settled back down on the bed, cradled his Lizzy in his arms, and pulled the coverlet up over them.

"My wife," he said simply. "Sleep with me. Tonight, and every night."

Elizabeth moved up the length of his body to kiss him.

"Tonight, my love, for certain. But on the morrow?"

"Yes, Lizzy. Tomorrow and forever. I will not have it any other way."

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Elizabeth awakened shortly after dawn, and before she even opened her eyes, she thought of the startling events of the previous night.

I am a married woman, she thought, and as though to convince herself, she held her hand in front of her face to confirm that there was, indeed, a wedding band on her finger. Far more imposing a confirmation than one small gold ring was one very large, warm, naked man lying in bed next to her, his arms wrapped securely around her.

He looked younger somehow, his face unlined by care, his lips parted. She touched his mouth with one finger, smiling when he wrinkled his nose at her touch. His eyes fluttered open, and his expression was momentarily confused, as though the sight of her was unexpected.

"Good morning, Mrs. Darcy," he said sleepily.

"I am gratified to hear you address me as such, William. I was not dreaming, then, that you spirited me away in the dead of night to be married?"

"No, 'tis true, Lizzy, you are my wife, and there is no turning back."

He looked at her a bit apprehensively.

"You would not want to turn back, would you, Lizzy?"

She ran her fingers through his tangled curls.

"Silly man. Turn back? And never awaken to the sight of so handsome a gentleman in my bed ever again?"

"You did seem quite enthusiastic about taking me to bed last night, Lizzy. What choice did I have but marrying you with haste?"

"You might have married me in two weeks' time, William."

"Far too long to wait. Lizzy?"

"Mmm?" she answered, while kissing his chest.

"Must we proceed with this subterfuge? Not allowing anyone to know we are married?"

"It does seem pointless, William. Although my mother is quite set on presiding over a grand wedding celebration."

"Could we not have it both ways, Lizzy? Reveal that we are married and then have a celebration with all our family present in Hertfordshire?"

"I suppose it is possible."

"Lizzy, " he said earnestly. "Now that we are married, we will be together this night and every night. I am not willing to forego the pleasures to which we are entitled, as husband and wife. I will honour your wishes as to whether or not to reveal we are married, but please do not ask me to be without you. I was without you far too long, my love."
"I would not want to be without you either, William," she said softly.

"Good," he said, almost shyly. "It pleases me greatly to hear that. Last night...did it bring you pleasure, Lizzy?"

She smiled.

"So much pleasure that I am loath to leave you this morning, William. As it is still quite early and Georgiana has promised to furtively summon us when all the others are safely downstairs, I believe we might remain in bed for another hour, at least."

"Much can be accomplished in one hour, Lizzy."

Correctly interpreting her new husband's words as a tantalizing promise, Elizabeth set about seeing to it that he fulfilled that promise. They were both conveniently unclothed, and she clambered atop him. He was so appealingly disheveled, his curly hair untamed and his face grizzled.

"Men have a distinct advantage over women, William, it is quite unfair."

"How so, Lizzy?"

"I suppose I should qualify my statement so that it is not so sweeping. I know not of other men, but I can remark with certainty that you look entirely too handsome for one who has just awakened. I am afraid I, like all women, require at least a half hour's preparations to look presentable!"

"I beg to differ, Mrs. Darcy. You look intoxicatingly beautiful this morning, and I fear a half hour's preparations would make you less appealing, not more."

"Explain yourself!" Elizabeth demanded.

"At the very least, you would emerge from your chamber after that half hour clothed and with your hair properly pinned up and secured. I much prefer you as you are now," Darcy said.

"Shocking!" Elizabeth replied, but her eyes glowed at his words.

"Yes," he whispered. "As you are now, so I can touch you, like this." He reached up with both hands to stroke her breasts."

"I am beginning to see the sense in your opinions, William," she said, lifting herself up, then down again, so that his erection was sheathed inside her. Her husband thrust upwards in response.

His words, his heated expression, and his deliberate, sensual motions, aroused Elizabeth, as she felt his growing excitement and her power over him. In this position, it was she who controlled the pace of their lovemaking, ensuring that she realized her own pleasure before Darcy did. He enjoyed the novelty of her domination and watching her reach completion, and she was already over the edge when he spilled his seed into her.

"You could not possibly look more beautiful than you do at this moment, Lizzy," he said as they recovered afterwards. "If our marriage were known, I would bid you remain thus the entire day, here in my bed."

"I promise you, William, when we return to Pemberley after our wedding in Hertfordshire, that is how we shall pass our first day at home together."

"I intend to hold you to that promise, Lizzy," he said, taking her into his arms and kissing her.

But today, he thought, I must face the distressing reality of Caroline Bingley and the hapless Alex Clifton at my breakfast table instead of spending the day in bed with my wife.

"It shan't be so unpleasant, William," Elizabeth said, discerning his thoughts with an astonishing degree of accuracy. "We have the company of Georgiana and Charles, and the day will pass quickly. And tonight..."

"Yes," he answered. "Tonight we shall find a way to be together again. Tonight, and every night until we leave for Hertfordshire."

Chapter 23

A light tapping on the door alerted Darcy and Elizabeth to Georgiana's presence in the corridor outside their bedchamber. Darcy wrapped his robe around himself, walked toward the source of the knocking and inquired, "Yes?"

"It is I, Fitzwilliam," Georgiana said in a tone of voice just loud enough so he could hear her. "All the others are at breakfast." Darcy opened the door a crack.

"Thank you," he replied. "We shall be down directly. Might Elizabeth...?"

"Yes, but hurry, brother. Now, when no one is here to observe."

Elizabeth hastily donned her gown, and Darcy kissed her briefly. "Go now, Mrs. Darcy! Before I change my mind and lock you in this room for the remainder of the day!"

With that, Elizabeth slipped outside and, with Georgiana as escort, proceeded quickly to her room. She rumpled the bedclothes, put on her dressing gown and summoned the maid to assist with her toilette. Darcy, likewise, sent for his man and bathed and dressed. Once he was shaven and impeccably attired, he went downstairs to breakfast, making certain to arrive at table in advance of Elizabeth.

"Good morning, Darcy," Bingley said cheerfully. "Did you rest well?"

"Quite well, Charles, thank you," Darcy replied.

"It appears Miss Bennet is a late sleeper," Caroline Bingley said, making it clear by her tone that she disapproved. Why the woman would give a whit how late Elizabeth slept was beyond Darcy's understanding, but he refrained from commenting.

When Elizabeth entered the room some minutes later, glowing as only a well-loved woman does, Darcy immediately got to his feet to greet her. She sat next to him, and he put her hand to his lips.

"Good morning, Elizabeth," he said softly. "I trust you slept well."

"Exceedingly well, Sir," she answered mischieviously, thinking albeit most briefly.

Caroline regarded them suspiciously. They seemed entirely too familiar with each other.

Alex Clifton was somewhat uncommunicative this morning, nursing a bad headache due to last night's libations. He made a concerted effort to avoid staring at Charles Bingley, realizing how close he had come to having his weakness exposed the previous evening. He would have to be more careful in future. With this in mind, he took Caroline's hand in his, and in an imitation of Darcy's behaviour with Elizabeth, kissed it so gently that anyone would have thought Caroline was his heart's true desire. Caroline smiled, pleased that his gesture had been witnessed by the others in the party, and when Alex suggested they take a solitary walk together after breakfast, she readily agreed.

Darcy was glad to see them leave. While he had some sympathy for Alex, he had no doubt the man had some idea of Caroline's true nature and chose to overlook it for his own reasons. He accepted that many, if not most, of those in his circle chose a marriage partner for reasons other than love, but still found it difficult to believe that Clifton could not have done better for himself. While not nearly as wealthy as Darcy, his income was substantial and his property extensive, and he was free to marry as he pleased.

I am the luckiest man on earth, Darcy thought, his gaze resting on his wife's beautifully animated face. Not only was I free to marry for love, I have won the love of the best woman I have ever known.

His happiness would have been complete, were it not for the five remaining days they would spend at Pemberley, their marriage a secret to all but Georgiana. Suddenly those five days...those five nights...seemed interminable. He wanted nothing more than to take his wife by the hand and lead her back to his bedchamber, where they would spend the day in connubial bliss.

It was barely nine in the morning, and already Darcy was counting the hours until nightfall when he would have a chance, at least, of being alone with Elizabeth. How would he fill the hours in this first day of their marriage when he wanted nothing better than to be alone with his wife, in her welcoming arms?

"So how shall we spend this beautiful summer day, William?" Elizabeth asked, as though reading his mind.

His eyes burned into hers. You know quite well how I should like to spend this day, Elizabeth!

But remembering he was in the company of others, he forced himself to respond suitably.

"You are right, Lizzy. It is far too beautiful a day to spend indoors. Perhaps a picnic on the grounds would be in order." He leaned back in his chair, his thoughts occupied with the delightful prospect of becoming lost in the woods with his wife. In similar circumstances at Netherfield, their pleasure had been limited, but as they were now married...yes, an afternoon's sojourn in the woods was most appealing.

"That is a capital idea, Darcy!" Bingley replied with his usual enthusiasm. "It would benefit all of us to get some fresh air and exercise. I only wish Jane were here with the baby as well."

I wish none of you were here, Darcy thought gloomily.

Georgiana cast a sympathetic smile in her brother's direction.

"I would so love a picnic, William! I cannot remember the last time we had a picnic at Pemberley; why, it must be several years."

Feeling just a bit guilty at his unwillingness to share Elizabeth's company with his sister and his friend, Darcy responded with a degree of enthusiasm that appeared genuine to all but his observant wife.

"I do believe you are right, Georgiana. I will speak to Mrs. Reynolds about preparing the baskets and we will set out at noon."

After breakfast, Elizabeth went to the library, where she planned to write a brief letter to Jane. She was tempted to divulge her marriage to her sister, but soon thought better of it and decided to wait until she returned to Hertfordshire, where she would tell Jane personally. She was in the process of sealing her letter when Mr. Darcy entered the room, putting his finger to his lips as he closed the door behind him.

"Shhhh. No one knows I am here! Charles thinks I am seeing to the details of the picnic."

"I see," Elizabeth said with an inviting smile. "And how long do you think it will be before someone realizes you are elsewhere?"

"I should say we have at least fifteen minutes, Lizzy."

"Sufficient time, I would think."

"Sufficient for..." he said uncomprehendingly.

Elizabeth's gaze went to the large maple desk in the corner, then back to her husband's face.

Darcy blinked several times, then raised his eyebrows.

"Why, Mrs. Darcy, I do believe you are seducing me."

He went to his wife, lifted her off the floor, and deposited her on the desk. He knelt in front of her, painstakingly rolling up her skirts to her waist, then stood and stroked the soft flesh between her thighs.

"I see you are ready for me, Lizzy, despite the spontaneous nature of our encounter."

"I have been ready for you since you left me this morning, William. I could think of nothing else."

"Is that so?" he asked softly, unbuttoning his breeches. "Is that why you lured me into the library?"

"I did no such thing, Sir," Elizabeth replied in mock innocence. ""I merely sought a quiet place in which to write to my sister Jane, as you can see by the sealed letter lying on the table."

"Might I inquire just how much of your recent experience you disclosed in this letter, Elizabeth?"

"I enumerated all the reasons why I was so gratified to be marrying you, William."

He smiled at her.

"And foremost among those reasons?"

Elizabeth stifled a giggle before replying.

"Your beautiful grounds here at Pemberley, of course. Truly, Netherfield is nothing to Pemberley!"

He stood with his hands on his hips, trying to look stern, a difficult feat with his breeches open.

"I am sorely disappointed at that reply! And here I thought my other attributes..."

Elizabeth could not help but glance at the most prominent of those attributes.

"Well, perhaps you are right William. Pemberley itself is not what delights me at this moment. Its owner, however..."

A wide grin spread across Darcy's face. He had known he was being teased; even so, he welcomed her reassurance.

He drew closer to the desk and gently lowered Elizabeth's shoulders to its surface.

"Let us delight each other now, my love."

She let out a soft murmur of assent, and her lips parted most invitingly, her tongue venturing out to moisten them. Her expression, coupled with that seductive little gesture, caused a most powerful reaction in her husband. He could feel the pulsations throughout his body, in time with the beating of his heart. He had been erect from the moment he discovered Elizabeth's presence in the room; now he was aroused to the point where he required imminent relief.

"I fear this is going to be brief, Lizzy," he said, lifting her legs under her knees and pulling her closer so that the tip of his swollen organ was poised at the opening of her nether lips. He gently prodded her, deliberately avoiding entering her with any depth, so as to prolong their coupling. She shocked him, in a delightful manner, by reaching between her own legs to stimulate herself as he began to thrust within her, each thrust deeper than the last.

"Yes, Lizzy," he said hoarsely. "Take your pleasure along with me.." He withdrew from her completely, then filled her slowly once again.

"I am nearly there, William...so near...slowly, my love...yes, just like that..."

He felt the first flutterings of her orgasm, her inner walls closing more tightly around him.

"More quickly now, William," she said, her fingers still massaging her most sensitive spot.

As thrusting more quickly was exactly what he required for his own relief, Darcy was more than happy to oblige her request. He slid his hands under her bottom, lifting her higher, and she wrapped her legs around his waist.

"Oh, my love, yes, yes," Elizabeth cried, as he plunged into her repeatedly, hard and fast. Her climax was so powerful, she bit her lips so as to prevent crying out in a manner that would alarm the household! Darcy, having made love to her just hours ago, was astounded at the strength of his own orgasm, his entire body shuddering as he spilled copiously into her.

"Oh, Lizzy...my Lizzy..." he said, collapsing atop her. "How I love you...I cannot get enough of you."

Darcy rose slowly from a position most awkward for one so tall in stature. He pulled her to her feet, and she wrapped her arms around his neck.

"I think I shall kiss my wife now, " he said, bending down to do just that.

"Do you see, Fitzwilliam?" Elizabeth said. "Fifteen minutes' time was more than sufficient."

"Perhaps it was sufficient to sustain ourselves for now, Lizzy. Tonight I shall require a period of some hours, I assure you."

"I intend to hold you to that promise, William."

"Tease all you like! You shall spend the night in my bed, and I find I am less and less inclined to care who knows of it. I am sorely tempted to announce our marriage this very afternoon, if only to enjoy the expression on Caroline Bingley's face!"

"And I, in direct contrast to your sentiments, admit I am rather enjoying the furtiveness of our situation. All the thrilling secrecy of an illicit romance with the full blessing of the Church! "

Darcy smiled and shook his head. "Such impertinence!"

The pair smoothed their clothing, making themselves as presentable as possible under the circumstances.

"So tell me," Darcy said, carefully maintaining a neutral expression. "Did you enjoy your first experience in Pemberley's library?"

"Yes, indeed, William," Elizabeth answered as they left the room together. "As you once related to another admiring young lady, it is the work of many generations, although perhaps I did not give its delights the proper amount of attention this morning, distracted as I was by other events. Even from my vantage point atop your desk, however, I could not help but note the sheer quantity of books contained therein."

"Oh, so you were counting books, then, were you, while I was exercising my marital rights? Is this the advice you were given by some well-meaning female upon your engagement, to help you cope with the demands of a passionate husband?"

"No, indeed, Mr. Darcy!" Elizabeth replied, in as shocked a tone of voice as she could muster. "Mama had no way of knowing that you would be exercising those rights in the library!"

Their laughter echoed throughout the house. Georgiana heard it, all the way at the other end of the corridor, and she smiled to herself. Elizabeth had brought such happiness to her brother, and Pemberley itself seemed transformed.

Since the death of their parents, she and William had been alone. Now she had a sister, and she had no doubt that someday soon there would be little ones toddling throughout Pemberley's gracious rooms. Elizabeth's sisters would visit often, and she would welcome having companions her own age.

Elizabeth was here but one day, and her brother had heartily assented to a picnic. She foresaw a future with many picnics, and parties, and holiday celebrations with a dozen people sitting at the long table, where, for a very long time, there had only been two.

I shall have a family.


Chapter 24

It was a fortunate circumstance that Mr. and Mrs. Darcy had not usurped more than their allotted fifteen minutes in the library, for no sooner had they exited the room than Caroline Bingley and Alex Clifton, just returned from their stroll outdoors, returned. Caroline, however, did not fail to notice their flushed faces and easy closeness. Elizabeth not only had her arm linked through Darcy's, she was leaning against his shoulder in a most familiar way. She seemed to want to move away when she noticed Caroline looking at them, but Darcy stubbornly pulled her even closer. I'll be damned if I let Caroline Bingley inhibit my interaction with my wife!

"And what have the two of you been up to?" Caroline asked brightly.

"I have been introducing Miss Bennet to the pleasures of Pemberley's library," Darcy responded.

Elizabeth smiled at his intentional double entendre.

"Ah, yes, I recall that Miss Eliza is a great reader. How fortunate she must think herself to have access to the rare and expensive volumes you have, Mr. Darcy. I am sure that, given her humble origins, she was quite overwhelmed by their number."

"Yes, I believe she was, Miss Bingley, although she has yet to finish counting them. And despite what you term her 'humble origins,' I dare say she has managed to read a far greater number of books than you have."

Elizabeth deliberately stepped on Darcy's foot to silence him. He winced, but he spoke no further.

Caroline's face reddened with anger at Darcy's deliberate put-down. Alex Clifton, although he secretly agreed with Darcy's assessment of Caroline's literary interests, loyally attempted to defend his fiancee.

"I am sure that Caroline's accomplishments are many. Being well read is but one requirement for a well-educated young lady, would you not agree?"

Elizabeth quickly answered him.

"Indeed, you are right, Mr. Clifton. And I find I am not inclined to think of books when there is a picnic in the offing! Georgiana proposed we set out on a picnic, and Mr. Darcy agreed. Of course, the two of you are invited. Do you have any particular preferences as to refreshments?"

Elizabeth thus neatly avoided any further unpleasantness, and the subject turned to the preparations for the afternoon's event. Caroline Bingley excused herself so that she might dress for the excursion, and Mr. Clifton soon followed suit.

"Well, you are quite the diplomat, Lizzy," Darcy said drily when they were alone.

"I do believe you enjoy baiting Miss Bingley, William! I thought it necessary to prevent you from speaking further!"

"And I have a bruise on my foot as a result!"

Elizabeth pointedly looked down at her foot, then at Darcy's, which was twice its size!

"I dare say you shall survive. I do hope you will attempt to control your tongue at the picnic!"

"I shall endeavour to remain civil, Lizzy. But it will be difficult! You know not how tempted I am to reveal our marriage each time that woman spouts one of her insults."

"Oh, William, we have but five days until we leave for Hertfordshire. Can we not remain discreet until then?"

"Certainly, Lizzy, I shall remain discreet in words. But I shall not promise to remain discreet in action. I need you, Elizabeth. You are my wife, and I need you."

He looked so serious, so forlorn at even the thought that she meant them to maintain a distance from each other, that she immediately put her arms about his waist and lifted her face up to him.

"Oh, William, please do not interpret my words as a wish to remain apart from you. I want to be close to you always. Did I not prove that this morning?"

"Yes, you did, Lizzy. But I fear I am greedy for your love. I cannot bear to be parted from you."

"And you shall not be. We shall find a way, I promise."

Darcy searched her face, and smiled at what he saw there. Her face was alight with love and desire, and he bent down to kiss her. Soon he was holding her closer, his mouth hungrily devouring hers, until a cough behind them alerted them to another's presence.

Bingley, his expression disapproving but not truly angry, just shook his head. "Now Darcy, I am going to have to ask you to desist! What if Georgiana had happened upon the two of you before I did, eh?"

She would have had the good sense to tiptoe away and leave us alone, Darcy thought.

"You are right, Bingley, but surely you won't begrudge me the pleasure of kissing my wife...uh, that is, my fiancee."

"Just two more weeks until she will, indeed, be your wife," answered the ever-oblivious Bingley. "Now about that picnic...does Mrs. Reynolds perhaps have one of her famous seed cakes in the larder for us?"

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The party of six set out at one o'clock. The men carried the wicker baskets, overflowing with provisions, far more than they could consume in one afternoon. Mrs. Reynolds, after exclaiming that she could not possibly put together a respectable lunch on such short notice, then proceeded to do just that. Cold meats and cheeses, breads, assorted fruits, and a large piece of Bingley's favourite seed cake filled the baskets, along with three bottles of wine. Caroline was chattering away about how much she loved the outdoors...except for the breeze, and the hot sun, and the buzzing insects, and the damp ground...but Darcy barely heard her. He was too busy admiring the lovely sight Elizabeth made in her picturesque straw bonnet, tied at the chin with violet grosgrain ribbons. He could not help but recall their outdoor tryst at Netherfield a few weeks ago, and the memory was so pleasantly vivid that he soon became aroused.

Elizabeth's thoughts were similar, and when she turned to look at Darcy, they both blushed. Every detail of today's excursion served as a reminder. When Bingley spread out the picnic blanket in a suitably shady spot (after they had considered and Caroline had vetoed a half-dozen locations), Darcy and Elizabeth simultaneously thought of the activity that had taken place upon a similar blanket at Netherfield Park.

The ladies occupied themselves in setting out the food, and Lizzy settled herself next to Darcy as they ate. Watching his wife as she ate was a sensual delight for Darcy, and he found he was aroused each time her tongue delicately wiped a crumb of bread or cake from her lips. Soon his arm was around her possessively, and he broke off pieces of the sweet cake and put them into her mouth. He was so daring because, by this time the picnickers, Bingley in particular, had drunk a considerable quantify of wine. Bingley, his spirits elevated by alcohol, was not inclined to be vigilant regarding Darcy's behaviour, and soon Darcy's fingers were lingering on his wife's mouth, caressing her lips.

Elizabeth found Darcy's playfulness contagious, and soon she was licking his fingers as he fed her. He, in turn, whispered into her ear his scandalous notions as to where he wished to feel her tongue that night. Bingley and Clifton were both in a wine-induced fog, not quite to the point of intoxication, but certainly in a condition that impaired their powers of observation. Georgiana attempted to divert Caroline's attention as best she could, but it was difficult to do so, given the blatant nature of her brother's actions.

"I fear Miss Bennet has not been a good influence on your brother, Georgiana! I always knew she was not of your class, but this level of impropriety is quite beyond what I would have expected, even of her."

"I must disagree, Miss Bingley," Georgiana said firmly. "I have never seen my brother so happy. He takes delight in her company, and she in his. I only wish I might find such happiness in marriage myself someday."

"But they are not yet married, Georgiana!"

"Oh...of course...they are not yet married," Georgiana stammered, her face colouring as she spoke the lie. "But they will be, very soon, will they not?"

"I, for one, would not find such behaviour acceptable even in a married couple!" Caroline sanctimoniously pronounced.

"And I think their obvious love for each other portends well for their marriage," Georgiana said stubbornly, her chin in the air.

"Of what are you speaking?" Darcy demanded, his attention diverted by the increasingly adamant tone of his sister's conversation with Caroline Bingley. Georgiana appeared distressed, and he had no doubt it was Caroline's doing.

"Your sister is attempting to defend your indecorous behavious, Mr. Darcy, yours and Miss Bennet's!"

Elizabeth placed a warning hand on her husband's arm. His stormy expression was not reassuring, and she feared what he would say.

"Excuse us, Miss Bingley, perhaps Mr. Darcy and I have been too frivolous today for our own good."

"Frivolous!" Caroline snorted. "You have an interesting way with words, Miss Eliza."

Darcy opened his mouth to reply. Elizabeth, fearing a confrontation that would culminate in Darcy's revealing their marriage, got to her feet and extended him her hand.

"Come, William, you must show me the best place to pick strawberries! Mrs. Reynolds has promised me some of her celebrated jam, if I do my part in providing her with the fruit."

Darcy could have reminded her that there were numerous under-gardeners employed at Pemberley to do just that, but he was willing to pick a bushel of strawberries if it granted him an uninterrupted half hour with Elizabeth.

"That Miss Bennet is a most resourceful young woman," they heard Alex Clifton jocularly announce as they departed. "I adore strawberry jam, Caroline, I simply adore it!"

"The grapes are best saved for making wine, though," Bingley said solemnly. "Fabulous wine here at Pemberley, Clifton, do you not think so?"

"Most definitely, Bingley, might I pour you another glass?"

"I think you both have had quite enough," Caroline snapped.

"Come now, Caroline," Bingley declared. "Another glass of wine among friends, what harm could come of it?"

"Friends! I do believe Alex prefers your company to mine, Charles. Mr. Darcy certainly makes no secret of where his first allegiance lies."

"Good God, Caroline, first you criticize Darcy for his demonstrative behaviour with Miss Bennet, then you extol him. Make up your mind! Alex and I were friends well before the two of you became engaged."

"That is quite right, Charles," Clifton said, reaching over to pat Charles Bingley's thigh. "I loved you long before I grew to love your sister." I shall never love your sister. Never, he thought morosely.

Charles looked down at Alex's hand on his thigh, and Clifton immediately moved it away.

"Uh, yes," he said uncertainly. "You are a great friend, Alex, and we will soon be much more than friends."

Clifton's lips trembled as he responded. "Yes, we shall be brothers."

"Well, I am most gratified that the two of you are so happy together," Caroline said spitefully.

"And you shall be happy as well, Caroline," Alex replied. "I give you my solemn promise."

Caroline might have taken him more seriously, had his eyelids not been drooping due to the sedative effect of the large quantity of wine he had imbibed. She was somewhat mollified by his remarks, however, although she only concerned herself as to whether he truly loved her because of her eagerness to be married.

She spent the next half hour attempting to get herself back into Georgiana Darcy's good graces because, no matter how low her opinion of Elizabeth Bennet, she wanted to ensure her continued welcome at Pemberley after Darcy's marriage.

Darcy and Elizabeth returned arm in arm, holding a basket containing not nearly enough strawberries to justify the length of their absence. Elizabeth's lips appeared swollen and red in colour, due to both a large amount of kissing and consumption of the succulent, juicy fruit. Her bonnet was askew, and Caroline narrowed her eyes. Was that a blade of grass caught in Darcy's curls? And his coat! It was unbuttoned!

Darcy took in the scene before him. Bingley and Clifton were both dozing on the blanket. Caroline sat, arms folded, looking quite vexed, while Georgiana appeared relieved at her brother's return.

"I fear we have neglected you today, Georgiana," Darcy said apologetically, totally ignoring Caroline.

"Oh, do not distress yourself, William. I am most gratified that you and Elizabeth were able to...gather strawberries."

"We shall make it up to you later, will we not, Elizabeth?" he said. "Let us return to Pemberley, where I am sure an excellent tea awaits us, and Elizabeth has promised to play for us."

They gathered up the remnants of the picnic, roused the sleeping Bingley and Clifton, and departed. Darcy and Elizabeth lagged behind the others and Darcy whispered, "Yes, Lizzy, after tea you will play for us, and tonight you will play with me. Agreed?"

"Agreed," she said, as he bent down to kiss her once again.

"Mmmm," he said. "You taste like strawberries."

Chapter 25

The brisk walk back to Pemberley House did both Clifton and Bingley a world of good. A pot of strong tea, along with a tray of small sandwiches and assorted dainties, was brought into the drawing room upon the party's return. The hot, fragrant beverage was just what was required to counteract the effect of the wine consumed earlier in the afternoon and Clifton, quite sober now, saw the advisability of being more attentive to Caroline. He made a point of sitting close to her, smiling at her, and being solicitous in every way.

The ladies retired upstairs after tea, where they would rest until dinner, while the gentlemen headed for the library.

The hours remaining until dinner were passed in a quiet, uneventful manner. Elizabeth, who had always found the custom of ladies "resting" before dinner to be patently absurd (Why would ladies require more rest than gentlemen when gentlemen's activities were so much more strenuous?), sat quietly in her room and read. Soon she put her book aside and recollected the afternoon's events.

It was at her urging that she and Mr. Darcy had removed themselves from the company of the others at the picnic, and Mr. Darcy soon made it clear he desired to be compensated.

"You have deprived me of three of the finest bottles of wine from Pemberley's cellars, Lizzy. From the appearance of it, there will not be a drop remaining after Clifton and Bingley are finished. What sweet nectar do you propose I consume in its stead?"

Elizabeth picked a plump strawberry and bit into it, its sweet juices running down her chin.

"These strawberries are most refreshing, Mr. Darcy," she said teasingly, reaching up to place the remainder of the strawberry in his mouth.

He chewed and swallowed it, then bent down suddenly to kiss her, his tongue licking the juice from her mouth and chin.

"Succulent," he said softly.

"More?" she asked meaningfully.

"Oh, yes, Elizabeth. I want more. Much, much more."

She laughed and fled, looking over her shoulder.

"I must find a bush more heavily laden with berries, then."

Darcy easily overtook her, and they fell in a tangle, she atop him. Bearing in mind the proximity of the others, they were not nearly as daring as they had been at Netherfield before their marriage, but their kisses and caresses were all the more passionate because of these self-imposed limitations.

"Tonight, Lizzy," he had whispered.

"Yes, tonight," Elizabeth repeated aloud dreamily, alone in her room

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Darcy waited impatiently in his bedchamber until all was still and he was satisfied that all the household was asleep. It was insupportable, he thought, that he was forced to resort to such machinations to enjoy the bounteous pleasures his wife offered him.

Finally, around half past midnight, he ventured from his room. Elizabeth's bedchamber was situated three doors down the corridor. He proceeded as quietly as he could, and his hand was on the doorknob when he sensed the presence of someone behind him.

Alex Clifton stood on the opposite side of the corridor, leaning against the door to Charles Bingley's room. His face was buried in his forearm, which was braced against the door. He raised his head, his face contorted with despair.

The two men stared at each other, each simultaneously comprehending the other's intent.

Darcy spoke first.

"Alex, I want you to know that Elizabeth and I were secretly married last night. I divulge this only because she is precious to me, and I would not want you to think ill of her. For her sake and for the sake of her family, we plan to carry on with the ceremony in Hertfordshire in less than two weeks' time."

"I would not think ill of either of you, Darcy, even if you were not married. Far be it from me to question the morality of anyone. I envy you. Your heart's desire is behind that bedroom door, and all you required to gain such a treasure was a marriage certificate. Would that we were all so fortunate."

Clifton's stance, his attitude, and his revealing words all added up, and at that moment Darcy knew what the enigmatic Clifton was about. He tried to analyze the feelings this revelation evoked: a fair share of revulsion, to be sure, but this was tempered with pity at the man's desperation.

He was convinced that no one else suspected Clifton's true nature, and for that he was grateful.

"Go back to bed," Darcy said, "before you do something you shall regret."

"What do you know of regret? Do you know what it is to loathe yourself so thoroughly that you wish to have never been born? And all because of something over which you have no control?"

"You cannot control what you are, Alex, but you surely can control what you do."

"Yes," he answered bitterly. "I must marry Caroline Bingley in denial of who I am, for no reason other than to secure an heir for my estate."

"I see," Darcy answered softly.

"Either that," Clifton went on, "or end my own life."

"You cannot do that," Darcy said forcefully. "That would be in defiance of God Himself and would condemn you for eternity."

"And my life now is not a defiance of God Himself?"

Darcy thought carefully before he replied.

"That is between yourself and God, Alex."

"And is it not God who made me what I am?"

"Certainly, but He gives us free choice of what we do, does He not?"

Darcy, for all his righteousness and sense of morality, had a keen understanding and a liberal mind. Certainly he did not approve of Alex Clifton, but neither did he condemn him. Judgment was not his province, it was the province of the Lord.

He let Clifton talk, and he listened and responded as best he could. Clifton was never explicit, but Darcy's years at school and at Cambridge had acquainted him with those of similar proclivities, and he was able to accurately interpret Clifton's sometimes cryptic remarks.

Clifton searched Darcy's face for signs of disgust and found none. His new friend's grave sensibility allowed Clifton to unburden himself as he never had before.

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Charles Bingley was feeling a bit unsettled that evening as he lay in bed.

Something that had happened that day had felt...well...just not right. But blast it, he could not remember exactly what it was. He was fully aware that he had drunk a bit more wine than was prudent, and that always made him hazy and forgetful.

He thought about his beautiful Jane, whom he had not seen in three days, and he missed her presence keenly. She had always been such a calming influence on him and kept him on an even keel. This was their first separation since their marriage, and he hoped it would be their last. If Jane were here, he would not have over-indulged in spirits, of that he was certain. He feared that in some odd way, he was drinking to compensate for her absence. He startled even himself with that revelation, as Charles Bingley, in general, was not prone to self analysis!

He would speak to Darcy tomorrow about taking an early leave for Hertfordshire. He vowed to himself that he would not touch another drop of wine until he returned home, to Netherfield, and to Jane.

Now that he was decided, he felt more at ease, but still sleep did not find him. There was a watchfulness in his demeanour that kept him awake and alert.

He heard voices in the corridor and left his bed to investigate. He opened the door and discovered Darcy and Alex Clifton there, deep in conversation.

Clifton whirled around to look at him, a stricken expression on his face. Bingley did not know what to make of it. Clifton was silent, and Bingley looked at Darcy, who finally spoke.

"One of my hounds was yelping, Bingley, and awakened us." He looked at Clifton as he spoke. Clifton stared at Charles, seemed to want to say something, but finally looked away.

"I want to return to Hertfordshire as soon as possible, Darcy, the day after tomorrow at the latest," Bingley blurted out. "I find I miss my wife and child most keenly."

Darcy nodded.

"As you wish, Charles."

Bingley appeared relieved.

"Thank you, Darcy. Good night."

He returned to his bedchamber, closed the door and turned to get into bed. But before he did, on instinct, he locked the door.

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"Clifton," Darcy said. "May I count on your discretion? I realize Caroline is your intended bride, but it is best she not be told of my situation."

"Go to your wife, Darcy," Clifton answered. "I shall not breathe a word of this to anyone."

"You have my gratitude," Darcy said. He reached out and put his hand on Clifton's arm.

"Courage, my friend."

Clifton shook his head despairingly.

"Courage! You do not understand..."

"I believe I do. We all have our crosses to bear, and you will bear yours as best you can, I am certain."

Clifton shook his head again.

"I shall never have the same feelings for Caroline as do you for your Elizabeth, Darcy."

"I know that, and I believe Caroline knows that as well and accepts it. Be that as it may, I believe that each of you will take what you need from your union. She will gain the status she desires, and you, hopefully, will have an heir. Not just an heir, Clifton, but a child of your own flesh. Someone to love. Something to give you purpose. And who knows, perhaps you and Caroline will come to some understanding because of it."

Clifton appeared thoughtful.

"You are right, of course. I must carry on."

Darcy smiled.

"I will take your advice now and go to my wife. Sleep well, my friend."

"I cannot thank you enough, Darcy," Clifton said.

With one last, fleeting glance at Bingley's closed door, he squared his shoulders and returned to his room.

Darcy sighed. He needed Elizabeth's comfort now more than ever.

She was half asleep when he crept into bed beside her. She opened one eye and demanded, "Where have you been? I feared you had been intercepted and obliged to produce a marriage certificate!"

"Nothing so dire as that, Mrs. Darcy. Hold me, Lizzy. I need you," he said simply.

Elizabeth sensed that something was troubling her husband and she questioned him about it.

"I find myself more and more unwilling to conceal our marriage, Lizzy. I want to sleep in your arms without a care as to what will happen in the morning."

"Is that all, William? You seem so pensive." His head was resting on her chest, and she stroked his hair.

"I am the most fortunate of men," he said softly. He raised himself up to kiss her.

Their lovemaking was quite different than the previous night. Darcy was undemanding, gentle, worshipful. He told Elizabeth nothing of what had transpired between himself and Alex Clifton, but it was in his thoughts. His own good fortune contrasted so sharply with Alex Clifton's plight.

"Do you know how much I adore you, Lizzy?" he asked as he moved inside her.

The physical sensations of lovemaking, exquisite as they were, paled in comparison to the pleasure her answering words imparted.

"No more than I adore you, William."


Chapter 26

It was Darcy's turn the next morning to dress quickly. Georgiana had been made aware the previous evening that her brother and sister-in-law would be sleeping in Elizabeth's room, and she dutifully knocked at their door after the others had gone down to breakfast. She waited until William acknowledged her signal, then went down to breakfast herself.

"I find this arrangement preferable, William," Elizabeth said smoothly. She reclined in bed, still naked under the coverlet, watching him as he dressed.

"In fact, I think I shall want it thus for the remainder of our stay at Pemberley. It would be most unchivalrous of you to have me prowl the corridors at night and be obliged to leave a warm bed before you do in the morning!"

At her mention of the "warm bed," Darcy was sorely tempted to discard his clothing once again and join her there. Instead, he advanced upon the bed, pulled the bedclothes back and smiled.

"And it was most imprudent of you, my dear, to remind me of the comfort of your situation relative to my own!"

"William!" she scolded.

He leaned over to kiss her and she pulled him toward her by grabbing hold of his half-knotted cravat.

"Mrs. Darcy! Are you trying to strangle me?"

Elizabeth was determined now to have her way with him, and she began to pull at his half-fastened clothing. Darcy protested most feebly, but in the end offered no resistance as her aggressive behaviour was proving to be most arousing.

After Elizabeth undressed him, he rolled over onto his back and waited. She allowed her eyes to roam suggestively down the length of his body.

"It seems you are interested, William," she said with a teasing smile.

"Proceed with some alacrity, Mrs. Darcy, as we are expected downstairs. Bathing and dressing will have to be a hurried affair."

"Oh!" Elizabeth exclaimed in mock horror. "I would not want to be responsible for hurrying your preparations, Sir. Perhaps we should dispense with...."

"Ohhhh no," he responded, reaching up to stroke her breasts. "I assure you, Lizzy, that satisfaction and speed are compatible in this instance. Take me inside you, my love."

Straddling his hips, Elizabeth lowered herself atop her husband until he was buried deep inside her. He groaned and closed his eyes as she lifted herself, then came down slowly once again.

"Yes, Lizzy, just like that. I am yours," he said.

"Yes," she said, breathing more quickly. "All mine."

With each downward movement, Elizabeth closed her eyes and let out a little moan. Each time she moved upward, she opened her eyes to assess the effect her attentions were having on her husband. Darcy was transfixed, unable to take his eyes off her face.

She wanted him, and she was taking him. She was a conquering goddess, her face flushed with arousal and triumph, and he was her prize. Even before he had fallen in love with her, he had sensed she was that rare woman who would match his passion. The first time he had asked for her hand in marriage, he had not been able to stop himself, he had wanted her so badly.

And now? She completed him. His wife, his soulmate, his friend, his lover. Always his lover.

Just two days, and he belonged to her, utterly and irrevocably.

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Darcy had been right. Dressing became, of necessity, a hasty endeavour, but neither of them regretted their decision to languish in bed. It did, however, make it all the more difficult to separate and proceed downstairs, where they would once again be obliged to take up the charade of being still unmarried.

It happened that each of them exited their respective rooms at almost the same moment. Darcy beckoned to Elizabeth.

"Just a word before we leave, Lizzy. Last night I encountered Alex Clifton in the corridor as I was entering your room. I was obliged to tell him of our marriage."

"How was it that he came to be awakened?"

"He could not sleep. I am sure his upcoming marriage weighs on his mind." A true enough statement, Darcy thought.

"What was his reaction?"

"He was most understanding, and has given his word he will honour my request for secrecy."

Elizabeth nodded, relief evident on her face.

"Tell me, William. It is evident there is no passion between Mr. Clifton and Caroline. Do you believe him to be in love with someone else?"

"He confided no such thing to me," Darcy answered truthfully.

"There were times when we were at Netherfield when I suspected he had tender feelings for my sister."

"Upon what do you base your suspicions, Elizabeth?"

"He stares at her when she is with Charles, as though he longs for such loving closeness. And yet, he has settled for a loveless marriage with Caroline! I cannot make him out."

"Lizzy, I will only say that I am convinced that Mr. Clifton is not in love with Jane. Perhaps he does covet her closeness with Charles, but not for the reason you suppose. Charles, I know, misses your sister keenly and has indicated to me that he wishes to depart for Hertfordshire sooner than planned. Tomorrow, to be more specific. Is that agreeable to you?"

"I would prefer to remain at Pemberley as planned, William."

"For what reason?"

She blushed. "You will no doubt stay at Netherfield and I at Longbourn until the wedding."

Darcy looked puzzled.

"I must admit," Elizabeth continued, "that I have grown rather accustomed to having you in my bed, William. It will be most difficult to maintain a suitable distance from you."

Darcy's first impulse was to reply in a teasing manner, but her expression was so desolate, and it touched him.

"Lizzy, bless you for saying that. My feelings are identical, of course. Would you rather I tell Charles we cannot leave until Saturday as we planned?"

She sighed. "No...no. I see quite well how much he misses his family, and there are but ten days remaining until our wedding ceremony."

"We might just tell everyone of our marriage, Lizzy, and be done with it!"

For the first time, Lizzy wavered.

"Perhaps we might consider it. When we arrive at Longbourn, I will be in a better position to decide. Is that acceptable to you, William?"

He smiled, convinced that her decision would be a favourable one.

"Most acceptable. And in any event, we still have tonight."

She nodded happily.

"I am famished! Let us have our breakfast now. But William...kiss me first!"

"Will I be quite safe kissing a famished woman, Lizzy? I fear being devoured!"

"I promise to be gentle," she said with a smile. Darcy leaned down to kiss her, but he dared not embrace her tightly as he feared that once he took hold of her, he would be unable to let her go.

"Come, my love, let us go satisfy our hunger together."

"Yes," she replied. "The usual kind of hunger, that can be satisfied in the presence of others!"

If anyone's suspicions were awakened by the sight of Elizabeth and Darcy coming to breakfast arm in arm, no one voiced them. Caroline did, however, remark on the lateness of the hour, but the couple ignored her and helped themselves at the sideboard. They were both ravenous due to the morning's exertions and ate heartily.

Elizabeth gazed at her husband lovingly. This is where I shall have my breakfast with him every morning. I shall never grow tired of seeing his face across the table.

They exchanged a brief smile, and he impulsively reached for her hand and squeezed it gently. Caroline's eyes followed the gesture, and in doing so, she noticed the gleam of the gold band on Elizabeth's ring finger. Elizabeth immediately curled her fingers, hiding them under Darcy's hand, but it was too late. In her haste to dress this morning, she had forgotten to remove her wedding ring.

"Is that a wedding ring you are wearing, Miss Eliza? Or should I say, Mrs. Darcy?" Caroline asked.

It was Georgiana who thought most quickly.

"Oh, it is Mother's ring, is it not, Fitzwilliam? Does it fit, Elizabeth? My brother was quite concerned about it with the wedding so soon," she said by way of explanation.

"It fits perfectly," Elizabeth said. Taking a deep breath, she looked at her husband and continued.

"And I am glad of it, as Mr. Darcy and I were married two days ago at Kympton and I shall never remove this ring again."

"You eloped?" Caroline exclaimed. "Mr. Darcy, how could you allow yourself to be coerced to behave so scandalously?"

"I rather think Mr. Darcy was a willing participant, scandalous or not. And I would hardly call this an elopement, Caroline, as Mr. and Mrs. Darcy immediately returned to their own home after the ceremony!" Mr. Clifton said mildly. "May I be the first to offer my congratulations?"

"Thank you, Alex. And you are correct, if anyone was coerced, it was my wife. I kidnapped her in the middle of the night and spirited her away to Kympton."

His eyes were dancing. He was taking particular pleasure in vexing Miss Bingley.

To say that Charles Bingley was surprised was a gross understatement. Gradually it dawned upon him the significance of his meeting Mr. Darcy in the corridor the previous evening, and while he briefly felt resentful at having been misled so easily, he soon offered his congratulations as well. He was somewhat relieved, having felt uneasy at the evidence of Darcy and Elizabeth's simmering passions. His self-assumed responsibility to protect his sister-in-law's virtue had become burdensome.

Caroline, after considering the matter, found the situation to her satisfaction. Elizabeth Bennet's upcoming "wedding" was now rendered meaningless, as she saw it, and her own wedding would consequently be elevated in importance.

"Bingley, I have spoken to Elizabeth and we are agreeable to leaving for Hertfordshire tomorrow. In view of the circumstances, it is desirable that her family know of our marriage so that they can best decide how our upcoming celebration might be altered." Darcy reached for his wife's hand. "As modest or as grand as you desire, Mrs. Darcy."

"And what of your desires, William?"

He smiled, his love shining in his eyes. "I have everything I desire already, Elizabeth."

"Scandalous," Caroline Bingley muttered. "Sneaking about the house and remaining upstairs in the morning so indecently!" And the two of them looking so pleased with themselves!

Bingley glared at his sister and let out an exasperated sigh.

"Thank you, Darcy. I will prepare to leave tomorrow. I should like to leave as early as possible so that we need not stop for the night. Will you be staying at Netherfield?"

"I will be staying with my wife, it matters not where."

"Speaking of which, William," Elizabeth said softly, "you have not yet shown me the new draperies in our apartments."

He leaned towards her to whisper in her ear, "And are you prepared to accept the consequences of such a request?"

"I am, indeed," she answered.

They hastily finished their breakfast and went upstairs together hand in hand.

Mr. and Mrs. Darcy were neither seen nor heard again until dinner.

Chapter 27

The newlywed Mr. and Mrs. Darcy, when they finally made their appearance at dinner that evening, were so visibly content with the events of the day that they were able to react to even Caroline's coldness with equanimity. Georgiana could hardly contain her happiness at the sight of them. Her brother appeared so blissful in his marriage that it was difficult to recall how miserable he had been just a few short weeks ago.

All that intruded on the couple's serendipity was their concern over how the news of their marriage would be received at Longbourn. Elizabeth did not fear her parents, but she knew they would be disappointed when they discovered their daughter had been wed without the presence of her family. Even so, she had ruled out the option of lying to them. They would be told the truth, and together they would decide how they might proceed. Certainly a celebration would be in order; Mrs. Bennet, in particular, would insist upon it.

Because of the events of the preceding days, Elizabeth was gratified that Bingley had insisted on their leaving for Hertfordshire in the morning. The sooner they arrived at Longbourn, the sooner their news might be disclosed and they could live together openly as man and wife.

"So pray enlighten me, Mrs. Darcy," Caroline said brightly. "Will we or will we not have the pleasure of attending a wedding breakfast at Longbourn? In view of the circumstances surrounding your marriage, an elaborate celebration would be rather...de trop...would it not?"

"We have not decided yet, Miss Bingley," Elizabeth quietly responded. "It is something Mr. Darcy and I intend to discuss with my family. There are others' sensibilities that must be considered in these circumstances besides our own."

"It has long been my opinion," Mr. Darcy said meaningfully, "that the ultimate success of a marriage has little to do with the grandeur of the celebration accompanying it. A wedding banquet is over in a few hours, Miss Bingley. I have been exposed to society long enough to observe that there are many who give greater consideration to the celebration of a marriage than to the personal qualities that contribute to the success of the marriage itself. Elizabeth and I have no worries on that score, I may assure you."

Miss Bingley blinked as Darcy took Elizabeth's hand in his. She sensed that his remarks had been designed to insult her in some way, but she was incapable of understanding their meaning. Personal qualities? Surely he could not be implying that Elizabeth Bennet was in any way superior to herself! A suitable marriage that would raise her position in society had been Caroline's goal since she was a girl of 16, while marriage to Mr. Darcy had simply been thrown in Elizabeth Bennet's lap! Only now, when she was older and her prospects had dwindled considerably, would Caroline consider someone like Alex Clifton.

Her own wedding banquet would undoubtedly exceed the Darcys' in grandeur and elegance, and neither Darcy nor his wife seemed to care. It was perplexing, to say the least.

Elizabeth watched Caroline's expression as Mr. Darcy spoke, and she realized that her husband's words had no meaning to Caroline. I feel sorry for her, she thought. She will never know the love that I do. With that thought, she squeezed Darcy's hand, and he looked down at her and immediately understood.

Soon after dinner, Mr. and Mrs. Darcy retired for the night. For the first time, they were able to ascend the Pemberley staircase hand in hand with no care as to who might observe them. The party would leave immediately after breakfast for Hertfordshire, and that was the pretext Darcy employed to justify retiring so early.

Once in their bedchamber, however, their need for sleep was supplanted by their need for each other.

"Why, Fitzwilliam," Elizabeth teased, as her husband began to undress her. "It is but two hours since I put on these garments, and you already seek to relieve me of them."

"'Twas you who insisted on making an appearance at dinner, Elizabeth. Had you left it up to me, we would have had dinner in our chambers and you would have had no need for clothing of any sort."

"And 'tis a shame to undo such a beautifully tied knot," Elizabeth said, as Darcy began to remove his cravat.

"Do it for me, Lizzy," he whispered, lying back on the bed, his hands behind his head.

"So I have been appointed your valet now, have I?" she asked as she undressed him, pausing to kiss his heated skin each time she removed another garment. How she loved the hollow of his neck, and she brushed the sensitive, pulsating spot with her lips. Darcy closed his eyes and enjoyed her gentle touch. Being with his wife so intimately, her bare skin next to his, her love for him apparent in her every touch, her every look, was the fulfillment of his fondest wish.. His apprehension and insecurity had vanished, and what he felt now was an overwhelming sense of belonging.

Elizabeth's hands. How lovingly they caressed him. Having removed his cravat and shirt, she stroked the skin on his chest, then ran her fingertips down his sides, ending at his waist. She ducked her head as she unfastened his breeches, still new enough at this to feel awkward and embarrassed. Even her hesitation, superceded by her need for him, was arousing to him. She wanted him, and her passion overcame what remained of her natural maidenly modesty. She eased his breeches down past his hips, then pulled them off.

Finally she met his gaze.

"You are so beautiful, Mr. Darcy," she said with a smile. "It gives me such pleasure to look upon you thus."

It seemed incredible to Darcy that he could be again so aroused, just hours since the last time he had made love to her. But there it was, the indisputable evidence of his arousal, Elizabeth's fingers wrapped around it. She began to stroke him, her eyes never leaving his, and he gasped in pleasure at her touch.

"Lizzy, please, if you continue in such a manner, I will not be able...I cannot..."

With that, he closed his hand around her wrist and pulled her hand away.

"Did you not find my attentions pleasurable, Sir?" she asked teasingly.

"Far too pleasurable, Lizzy," he responded. "'It would not be fair to take my pleasure without giving the same in return." He settled her back onto the bed so that he could position himself atop her. and in a moment, he was inside her, filling her with that which she had so recently caressed and aroused to its current state.

"I ask the same question of you now," he said. "Are such attentions pleasurable?"

"Oh yes, yes," she said, incapable of a more measured response. Her ability to form words was gone, her only reality the sensation of her husband moving within her, his mouth pressed up against her ear.

"Everything," he whispered. "You are everything to me, Lizzy. I want for nothing, because of you."

She reached up to put her arms around him, holding him closer. She kissed the skin of his shoulder as the sensations overtook her, carrying her over the peak.

Darcy moaned as he felt her tightening around him and stilled his thrusting. Movement distracted him from feeling her, and he waited for her to finish before he resumed, finally plunging into her one more time as he took his own pleasure. He fell back onto the bed, pulling her against his chest, his lips in her hair.

"Sleep here, my angel," he whispered drowsily. "Let me hold you while you sleep."

Elizabeth settled herself in his arms, and it was but a few minutes before the two fell into a deep, contented slumber.


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The steady drumming of rain against the windowpane awakened Darcy the next morning. He carefully disengaged himself from Elizabeth so that he would not awaken her, easing her back down on the bed before he rose and walked toward the window. He gazed out upon the wide expanse of Pemberley's grounds, contemplating how dramatically his life had changed these past weeks.

It seemed ages ago that he had returned from the Continent, yet it had been but a few weeks. He recalled his bittersweet return to Pemberley, imperfect because Elizabeth was not his. Pemberley, which had always been balm to his soul, had not been enough. Even the most beautiful place in the world lost its lustre when the one he loved best had been lost to him.

He would have been content to spend the entire day in their chambers. He envisioned himself sitting with his wife at the little mosaic table near the mantel, sipping coffee, eating breakfast, then returning to bed to make love again. At Pemberley, Fitzwilliam Darcy answered to no one, and he was particularly loath to leave on this day.

At Longbourn, he knew he would have to answer to Mr. Bennet, and he feared it might be unpleasant. He had, after all, taken his favourite daughter from him in a scandalous manner. He would have to answer for such behaviour, and he knew Mr. Bennet well enough to realize that his patience might be tested. He resolved himself to submit without complaint to the verbal barrage his father-in-law would undoubtedly employ to exact retribution for their furtive, hasty marriage.

Or as Elizabeth had put it, much more succinctly, if he planned to be in the company of the Bennet family, he would have to become accustomed to being laughed at! His wife had already started the process, and in self defense, he had become rather proficient himself at the sort of sly, loving teasing Elizabeth inflicted upon those she loved best.

The rustling of the bedclothes alerted him to Elizabeth's awakening.

He turned to look at her. She was sitting up in bed, the coverlet loosely draped around her. She looked utterly adorable, her hair tangled about her shoulders, her body exposed above her waist.

"Oh, my," was all she said, her eyes running down the length of her husband's naked form.

"We shall breakfast in our chambers this morning, Mrs. Darcy," he said with an attitude that brooked no opposition.

"Shall I ring?" she asked, reaching for the bell pull.

"Oh, no, not yet," he answered, approaching the bed. "Better to wait, as I can almost guarantee that your appetite will increase after indulging in the activity I have in mind."

"Is it a strenuous activity to which you refer, sir?"

"Not particularly, Lizzy. Lie back and allow me to exert myself. All you need do is close your eyes."

Passivity was not normally a quality attributed to Mrs. Darcy, but in this case she was willing to make an exception.

And was amply rewarded.

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Having satisfied his wife not once, but twice, a smugly smiling Darcy rang the bell for breakfast. Lizzy reclined on the bed, her eyes following her husband's every movement.

"How tedious it shall be, Fitzwilliam, to sit next to you on a long carriage ride and not be able to..." She smiled, leaving the sentence unfinished.

He knelt on the floor next to the bed.

"And neither shall I be able to..." he said, leaning down to kiss her breasts. "An entire day of not being able to..."

He pulled back the bedclothes up the length of his wife's body, stroking the soft skin between her thighs.

"I fear you must cover yourself now, Lizzy." He stood and reached for his dressing gown, and handed Elizabeth her own.

They lingered as long as they could over breakfast, then parted after a heartfelt kiss. Elizabeth left for her own chamber so that she might bathe and prepare for the journey to Hertfordshire.

She was gone but a few moments when Darcy stared at the empty bed, the impression of her body still on the bedclothes.

I miss her already!

The journey to Longbourn and the accompanying trials and tribulations that would undoubtedly characterize their stay there would have to be endured. Only after they had overcome that last hurdle would they be able to begin the rest of their life together.

It was a challenge, Darcy realized, that he would happily face. He had conquered far greater obstacles in winning Elizabeth's love, and they would conquer this last one together.

And when it was over, he need never face the sight of an empty bed again.


Chapter 28

Darcy and Elizabeth were still soaking in their respective bathtubs as the four other, and somewhat impatient, travelers were finishing breakfast.

Georgiana was eagerly anticipating their stay at Hertfordshire. Elizabeth had been understandably preoccupied these last few days, leaving her in the company of Caroline Bingley far more frequently than she found desirable. Elizabeth's sisters, even the serious Mary, she had always found diverting company. Georgiana had had little opportunity for informal socialization with young ladies her own age, and she looked forward to spending a large amount of her time in their company.

Mr. and Mrs. Darcy were heard before they were seen that morning. Darcy's deep baritone, mingled with Elizabeth's higher, sweeter tones, echoed as they descended the grand staircase.

Their words were not intelligible, but their happy laughter was heard as they entered the breakfast room.

"Good morning, everyone," Darcy said with a broad smile that left no doubt as to his good humour. "I fear we are last down to breakfast despite our good intentions."

"I should say so, Darcy," Bingley grumbled. "All of us are not so blessed as you are! I have been deprived of my wife's company for longer than I find desirable, while you make no secret of your own satisfaction and good fortune!"

"And I apologize, Bingley, most sincerely," Darcy said, rather insincerely. "I am quite famished this morning, despite having had a light breakfast in my chambers."

"I suppose it is you we must thank, Lizzy, for Darcy's pleasant disposition! I fear he has not always been so sociable, particularly this early in the day," Bingley said.

"Very true, Bingley, very true," Darcy agreed, as he tore into a large plate of eggs and sausage. "And I suppose your own typical good humour will be restored once you are reunited with your wife."

"Indeed," Bingley replied, "I had hoped to be on the way to Hertfordshire by now."

"Perhaps Mr. and Mrs. Darcy are not anticipating their return as eagerly as you are, Charles," Caroline said pointedly.

"Not at all, Miss Bingley," Darcy replied. What I am dreading is the prospect of spending the better part of a day enclosed in a carriage with you!

"I am actually quite anxious to see my family, Caroline," Elizabeth said.

"Perhaps Jane and I might intercede on your behalf, Darcy, with the Bennets? Pave the way, so to speak?" Bingley asked helpfully.

"That will not be necessary," Darcy said, inwardly shuddering at the idea. He could only imagine the sport Mr. Bennet would have with him in such circumstances!

"No," he said, "my wife and I are more than capable of taking responsibility for our own actions and handling any consequences that might result."

He looked at Charles and Caroline.

"And that is all I shall say on the subject. Would you care for some more tea, Elizabeth?"

Alex Clifton had not uttered a word beyond wishing a good morning to the assembled party. The difference in his situation, when compared to the happiness enjoyed by Darcy and Elizabeth (and for that matter, by Jane and Bingley) was apparent, and most poignantly. It occurred to him that even if it were possible for him to follow his own instincts with impunity, he would never know true happiness in love. The approbation of society did mean something to him, as did the continuance of the family line.

He did not love Caroline, but neither did she love him. He only hoped he could grow to respect her, and even of that he had doubt. The only acceptable love that was open to him, he thought, was the love of a parent for a child. And the only way he would ever have a child would be through marriage to someone he could not love, not in the way a husband should love a wife.

The thought made him unutterably sad, but resigned just the same. Caroline would not have suited him, even if he had been inclined to favour the companionship of women over that of other men. Elizabeth Bennet would have been an enjoyable companion, but having seen her interactions with her husband, he realized her nature was far too passionate to settle for a marriage of convenience.

Jane Bingley, perhaps, would have suited him. More girlish than womanly, more angular than curvy, and with an understanding, almost docile, disposition, she did not seem quite so challenging as other women of his acquaintance. He could close his eyes and imagine...

No, this will not do, he thought. It was no more morally acceptable to fantasize about his friend's wife than it was to fantasize about his friend himself!

He was to marry Charles' sister, he thought. How ironic it was that Jane herself bore far greater a resemblance to Charles, both in appearance and nature, than did Caroline! Such was his penance in marrying a woman he did not love in such a premeditated manner. Sometimes the punishment truly did fit the crime.


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The rain had slowed to a drizzle by the time the party left the house and prepared to enter the carriage. Still, the ground was quite wet, and by the time Elizabeth reached the carriage, the hem of her skirt was soiled.

"Six inches deep in mud, Mrs. Darcy!" her husband teased. But he bent down to kiss her after he said it, in full view of the others. "My darling country girl," he whispered in her ear, as helped her up into the carriage He sat himself next to her, and Georgiana sat on his other side.

Clifton intentionally slowed his pace as he and Caroline approached the carriage. He did not think it prudent for himself to be seated next to Charles Bingley! He ensured that Bingley was seated first, then helped his fiancee into the carriage before he seated himself.

Darcy put his arm around his wife. "Lean against me, Lizzy," he said, and he closed his eyes. The alternative was to look at Caroline Bingley's face for the next several hours!

"I do hope we shall have the opportunity to visit Rosewood, Alex," Caroline said. "I have no doubt it is sorely in need of a woman's touch, and as our marriage is rapidly approaching, there is no time to waste. Once I have assessed the furnishings, we shall make appointments to visit the best shops in London for furniture and draperies and china..."

Clifton was only half listening to her as she discussed the complete reorganization of his home. Caroline, he thought, might be surprised at the elegance of Rosewood Manor. He had always done quite well himself in that regard and had never needed nor sought the opinion of anyone else. Alex, like his late mother, had exquisite taste and more than adequate resources to indulge himself.

"Really, Caroline," Bingley interjected. "Can you talk of nothing else but how you plan to spend Alex's money?"

"It will be my pleasure to indulge you, Caroline, however you wish," Alex said. Give me children, he thought, and I will give you anything you want.

"Thank you, Alex," Caroline said with some surprise. She was unaccustomed to anyone other than her sister Louisa coming to her defense! On impulse, she slipped her arm through Alex's, and he stiffened in response. Even Georgiana noticed the gesture, and she smiled. Perhaps Caroline's heart had, in some way, been touched?

Darcy feigned sleep for the better part of the morning, but Elizabeth, lulled by the steady rocking of the carriage, lightly napped until Darcy nudged her awake.

"We shall be stopping at an inn soon, my love," he said tenderly, kissing her forehead. The sensation of his wife's warm, soft body leaning against him was intoxicating.

"I must look a sight," she sighed, reaching up to straighten her bonnet.

Darcy smiled.

"Yes, you are a sight, indeed," he said, leaving no doubt in anyone's mind that he found the sight of her most pleasant.

Caroline Bingley reverted to form, her eyebrows raised at the sight of the comfortable but decidedly modest establishment at which the party would rest and have lunch.

"Could we not find someplace a bit more..." she said disparagingly.

"Enough, Caroline," Bingley responded. "It is comfortable and clean and will not take us out of our way." For Bingley, the third quality mentioned was the most important. Diverging from their journey in a way that would delay his reunion with Jane was unthinkable! A mediocre meal in an unremarkable inn was a small price to pay if it hastened his arrival by even half an hour!

As is often the case, however, the modest appearance of the inn was deceiving. The food was plentiful and delicious, the innkeeper and his wife friendly and obliging. Refreshed and satiated by the repast, which was accompanied by a large pitcher of beer, the travelers prepared to set out again after an hour. The plan was to drive straight through to Netherfield, even if it meant they would not call at Longbourn until the following morning.

As the driver prepared the carriage for their departure, Darcy and Elizabeth had the opportunity to converse privately, away from the others.

"Fitzwilliam," Elizabeth said thoughtfully, "would it be too much to ask that I be taken to Longbourn tonight so that I might speak to my father alone?"

"I would prefer to be with you, Elizabeth," he answered.

"I know," she said. "But I am my father's favourite, and I believe I can use that to better advantage if I am alone with him. By tomorrow morning, he will have gotten over any anger or disappointment he might feel at the news of our marriage."

Darcy frowned. The thought of spending even one night away from his wife was unpalatable, indeed. Still, he did not want to be selfish or unreasonable, so he reluctantly agreed.

"All right, then, Elizabeth. If you truly believe it will ease the way with your family, I will spend the night at Netherfield while you remain at Longbourn," he said. "But Lizzy," he added wistfully, "no more than one night."

Elizabeth smiled.

"I will miss you too, my love. Most acutely! But we will both be most fatigued tonight from the journey, and perhaps we would do little else but sleep in our bed." Her eyes danced teasingly.

"Oh, I would not count on that, Mrs. Darcy," he replied seriously, bending down to kiss her. "And even it that were so, I find I sleep far more soundly with you next to me."

Darcy sighed as he helped his wife into the carriage. It was going to be a very, very long night!

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It was quite late when the party reached Longbourn. Darcy reluctantly bade his wife good night, and the carriage departed for Netherfield.

Elizabeth was enthusiastically greeted by her parents and sisters. Tired though she was, she felt re-energized by their company, and answered their eager questions about her stay at Pemberley. It was well past midnight when they retired for the night, and Elizabeth had not had the opportunity, nor the heart, to divulge her marriage to her parents.

I will speak to them directly after breakfast tomorrow morning, she thought. Mr. Darcy had promised to call at noon, and by then, her father would be reconciled to their marriage. She was exhausted by the day's activities, and fell asleep immediately upon entering her bed.

Darcy, however, was not so fortunate. He witnessed Bingley's exuberant reunion with Jane, who clung to her husband and kissed him most enthusiastically. They had barely been at Netherfield fifteen minutes when Charles and Jane hastened to their bedroom, where they would undoubtedly get very little sleep this night.

Darcy got into bed and attempted to sleep, but found it impossible. He stared at the pillow next to him, where Elizabeth should be. It was not arousal he felt this night, but a sheer longing for her presence, for the weight of her body pressed against him.

He closed his eyes, and pulled the covers up to his chin. Sleep, damn it! he told himself. If only he could obliterate the overwhelming loneliness with sleep, he would get through to the morning, when he could leave for Longbourn and reclaim his wife.

But try as he might, sleep would not come. Surely by now Elizabeth had delivered the important news to her parents? It was insupportable that his wife...his wife...should sleep in her childhood bed, just a five-minute ride away!

With great determination, Darcy rose from bed and dressed. He headed for the stables where he roused the stable master and asked for his horse to be saddled. The man looked at him as though he had lost his mind, but he was accustomed to the caprices of the gentry and obeyed.

He set off for Longbourn with great speed, despite the dark. He tied his horse to a tree outside and knocked loudly on the door.

It was some minutes before an alarmed Mr. Bennet, wearing his nightclothes and carrying a candle, answered the door.

"Mr. Darcy!" he exclaimed. "What is the matter!"

"Good evening, Mr. Bennet," Darcy responded.

Mr. Bennet, astonished, waited.

"I am done with this charade, Sir," Darcy said. "I have come to collect my wife!"

Mr. Darcy's sudden appearance at Longbourn in the middle of the night was to remain a source of amusement for his father-in-law for many years to come. It was to Mr. Darcy's credit that, recognizing his own imprudence in conducting himself in so flamboyant a manner, he submitted to the inevitable teasing with good humour whenever Mr. Bennet referred to the events of that night, which was quite often. At family gatherings, even some ten years hence, he could not enter a room in search of Elizabeth without his father-in-law remarking, "Come to collect your wife, have you, Darcy?"

And while Mr. Darcy bore it quite well when the event itself was safely in the past, on the night it occurred his plight was not quite so easy. Mr. Bennet was perplexed, then questioning and demanding, then quite angry, in short order.

Mr. Darcy was immediately persuaded to enter the house, Mr. Bennet having convinced him that he was most assuredly not going to collect anything, let alone his daughter, without explaining himself!

"Your wife, sir? Your wife?" Mr. Bennet asked.

"It seems Elizabeth has not informed you..." Darcy began, stopping as he caught sight of the lady in question coming down the stairs.

She took in the sight before her and suppressed the urge to giggle. Both her husband and her father were looking quite wild!

"Oh, dear," she said, most inadequately.

"Papa," she began, "what I meant to tell you earlier, and what you appear to have learned from Mr. Darcy, is that we were married by the curate at Pemberley two days ago."

"I have learned no such thing, Elizabeth. Mr. Darcy merely informed me that he has come to collect his wife. Thank you for illuminating me further as to his wife's identity."

"Mr. Bennet, I know this is most unorthodox..." Darcy began, but Mr. Bennet cut him short.

"Unorthodox? Unorthodox, sir? You carry off a gentleman's daughter to be married without the presence of her family, and you merely term it 'unorthodox?' It is disgraceful, Mr. Darcy. Have you no consideration for my daughter's reputation?"

"Father, Mr. Darcy and I found we were unable to remain..." Elizabeth hesitated. "Unable to remain unmarried, Sir."

"What is the meaning of such a statement, Elizabeth? Were you compromised? Are you..." He gazed pointedly at her midsection in much the same manner as the parson's mother had on their wedding night.

"No, Father!" Elizabeth said defiantly. "Mr. Darcy was and continues to be a gentleman, in the best possible sense of the word."

"Yes, yes," Mr. Bennet answered, somewhat placated. "But a gentleman who, it seems, cannot find sleep without his wife."

"To that offense I plead guilty, Sir," Darcy said simply.

"Well, well, then, sit down, both of you," Mr. Bennet said. Elizabeth bristled, recognizing well his tone of voice. Her father's anger had dissipated, and was rapidly being replaced with his usual desire to have a bit of sport at her expense. At their expense.

"So, what would you have me do now, Darcy? Have you hoist my daughter up behind you on your horse and watch you ride away into the night? Will you allow her to change out of her nightclothes first?"

Darcy was silent.

"And before I allow such an event to take place, perhaps I might do well to demand to see a certificate of marriage. The two of you have been so duplicitous that I find myself disinclined to believe anything you say without impartial confirmation."

Darcy's face reddened, but he controlled his temper.

"I assure you, Sir, I could easily produce such a certificate should you require it."

Mr. Bennet turned to his daughter.

"Elizabeth, you have denied your father the pleasure of handing you over to your husband in church, as is my right and duty. What do you say to that?"

Elizabeth could tolerate her father's sarcasm, but not the wounded look she saw plainly on his face.

Her eyes filled with remorseful tears

"I am sorry, Papa, truly...but believe me, it was for the best."

Darcy wisely remained silent as the father and daughter embraced.

"There, there, my child, dry your tears. I will get over it, I assure you. What of the wedding breakfast? Is it to proceed as scheduled?"

"Whatever you and Mama desire. We are willing to do whatever you ask," Elizabeth said.

"Very well then. I will leave it to you and your husband and Mrs. Bennet. The planning of elaborate parties is your mother's province, not mine. And you would do well, Darcy, to follow my example. Just about any husbandly offense will be overlooked when compensated with the ability to spend large quantities of money on frivolity."

"I do not intend to commit any husbandly offenses, Sir," Mr. Darcy answered.

"Very well put, son. You are learning quickly."

"Thank you, Father," Elizabeth said.

"Yes, yes," Mr. Bennet said impatiently. "Off to bed with you now....oh....that is a problem, is it not?"

The faces of his daughter and son-in-law could not have been redder. Mr. Bennet, it must be noted, took an undue amount of satisfaction at the sight, and hesitated far longer than was necessary before he delivered his pronouncement.

"I fear I cannot allow you to recklessly ride away with my daughter in the dark of night, Mr. Darcy. Should you want to break your own neck, that is fine, but you shall not endanger my daughter!

"I suppose there is nothing for it but for you to share Lizzy's room. She is, after all, your wife, and I've nowhere else to put you! I must say, though, that I eagerly anticipate the scene at breakfast tomorrow morning. I must make sure to awaken early, as I do not want to miss a moment of it!"

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
"Fitzwilliam," Elizabeth whispered as they quietly mounted the stairs to her bedchamber. "What were you thinking?"

"For one thing, Lizzy, I was thinking that you had informed your parents of our marriage as soon as you arrived at Longbourn, as you promised!"

"I intended to, truly I did, Fitzwilliam, but it was so late and our reunion so pleasant...I just could not bear to cause such an uproar tonight! I decided to wait until morning."

"Oh, I see, you did not want to cause an uproar," he said pointedly.

"'Might I remind you that you were not supposed to call at Longbourn until tomorrow at noon! And stop looking at me with those sad eyes, Fitzwilliam Darcy! Did you really have to conduct yourself in such a dramatic manner?"

"Perhaps not," he sighed. "But I found it quite impossible to sleep without you, Lizzy. Are you angry with me?"

Her expression softened at his plaintive question.

"No, I admit I was longing for your presence as well."

"And were you unable to fall asleep?"

"Well, at first, but I do admit I had fallen asleep by the time you knocked on the door! It was quite surprising to be awakened in such a way."

She opened the door to her bedroom, wherein there were two single beds, each clearly designed to accommodate one.

"Should we push them together, perhaps?" Elizabeth asked.

"No, the noise may prove disruptive to the household," he replied, thinking that the last thing he desired at this moment was having to explain himself to Mrs. Bennet!

"I believe we will fit in one bed," he continued, "if we sleep together very, very closely." He smiled when he said it, the prospect not being altogether unpleasant!

"Of course," Elizabeth said, casting a doubtful eye at her husband's long frame and broad shoulders.

The room's only illumination was provided by two candles, so that it was difficult to see the details of the decor. But what Darcy did see was a room that was intriguingly feminine in atmosphere, from the lacy curtains, to the bottles of mysterious potions on the dressing table, to the dried flowers and hair ribbons adorning the mirror.

"So this is where you grew up," he said softly.

"Yes," she replied. "I fear it is a far cry from Pemberley!"

"It is lovely," he said. "It is filled with you, Lizzy."

"It seems my father has given us approval to share this room, Fitzwilliam," she said.

"Yes," he said, "although perhaps he assumed I would be occupying your sister Jane's bed!"

Elizabeth began to unbutton her husband's shirt.

"I am in my nightclothes and you are not. I believe that is a situation that needs to be rectified."

"But I neglected to bring any nightclothes, Lizzy. So if you remove my garments, I will have to sleep with none."

"So it would seem," she agreed, reaching down to unfasten his breeches.

"'Tis only fair, then, that I remove your gown, do you not agree?"

"Yes, indeed," she said. "There is so little room to accommodate the both of us in that one small bed that the less that comes between us, the better."

"You are a woman of uncommon sense, Lizzy," Darcy said, bending down to kiss her, now that literally nothing came between them. He lifted her in his arms and carried her to the bed where she had slept since she was but 5 years old.

It was, to be sure, a very tight fit in the narrow bed, and Mr. Darcy's feet hung over the edge, but it was his nature to make the best of things, and so he did. He had little choice but to lie atop his wife, and she utilized the limited space most efficiently by wrapping her legs around her husband's waist. They made love slowly and quietly, finding it strangely thrilling to be doing so in a location that would have, under usual circumstances, been strictly off limits to them.

"It would have been even more romantic, Fitzwilliam, had you not knocked on the door but placed a ladder against my window instead."

"I will try to remember that for next time. Or perhaps you might wish me to go outside now and...?"

She slapped his bottom playfully.

"Teasing man!"

He rolled over onto his back, taking her with him. They were positioned precariously close to the edge, and he put his hand down to the floor to steady himself as together, they shifted to the center of the bed.

The movement caused her breasts to dangle temptingly near his mouth, and he lifted his head to kiss them. Her delighted moans were most arousing, and he found himself growing erect once again. This time it was Lizzy who took the initiative, remaining atop him as she guided him inside her.

"Oh, God, Lizzy," he cried. She clamped her hand over his mouth to silence him and he responded by opening his mouth to suck on her fingers.

"Hush, my love," she said, as she moved up and down. His hands were cupping her bottom, adding momentum and support to her movements, and it was difficult for her to remain silent as she felt her orgasm beginning. She bit her lips so hard that it was painful, and Darcy turned his head to the side so that his own cries would be muffled by the pillow.

It was miraculous that no one in the house was awakened by the rhythmic scraping of the bed on the wooden floor. The lovers tempered their voices, their words of endearment whispered so softly that no one else would have heard them, even if they had been in the very same room.

Such simple words, "I love you," said by each of them, and repeated many times before they found sleep. Of necessity, they slept with arms and legs entwined, Darcy unwilling to leave the comfort of his wife's embrace to sleep alone in the other bed.

It was the next morning, quite early, when Darcy, still asleep, attempted to stretch, rolling to the other side of the bed. He realized too late that there was no other side of the bed and he fell, with a resounding thud, to the floor.

"Mr. Bennet!" Mrs. Bennet bolted upright in bed. "I distinctly heard a loud crash, coming from Lizzy's room!"

"You had best see to it, Mrs. Bennet. Lizzy may have fallen out of bed, and it would not do for me to intrude upon her while she is still in her nightclothes."

Mrs. Bennet nodded and hastened from the room. Her husband arose moments later, rubbing his hands together gleefully as he headed to the door and peered out into the hallway just as his wife reached Lizzy's room.

He smiled to himself. Let the festivities begin!


Chapter 30

It was fortunate that Darcy had the presence of mind to grab the bedsheet that had fallen to the floor with him, as he wrapped it around his naked form just moments before the door to the room flew open. He was somewhat disoriented at being awakened so abruptly and painfully, and for the moment, had forgotten where he was. With one hand he held the sheet closed around him, while with the other he rubbed his eyes.

Mrs. Bennet screamed. Darcy, wrapped in the sheet, was barely awake. His face was stubbled as he had not shaved since the previous morning, his hair was wild and standing up at odd angles. He truly presented a fearsome sight!

Truth be told, she did not even recognize him as Mr. Darcy, and she slammed the door shut, running down the hallway to her husband, who was standing outside their room with a mischievious grin on his face.

"There is a man! A man in Lizzy's room! You must throttle him, Mr. Bennet, before he murders us all!"

"A man in Lizzy's room? How curious!"

"Yes, yes, and he is wearing nothing but a bedsheet. A very large, tall man wrapped in a bedsheet. Hurry, Mr. Bennet!"

"My dear Mrs. Bennet, if a man were come to murder us, I rather doubt he would be wearing a bedsheet. But let us go together to investigate the matter further, shall we?"

"You must bring something to hit him with, Mr. Bennet. Here, this will do," she said, handing him a large porcelain vase.

"Put that down, Mrs. Bennet. I assure you it will not be needed."

He led his wife to Lizzy's bedchamber and knocked on the door.

"Mr. and Mrs. Darcy?" He raised his eyebrows, pleased with the effect those few words had on his wife.

Mrs. Bennet's hand flew to her mouth. She was uncharacteristically speechless.

It was a thoroughly embarrassed Darcy who came to the door. He had hastily donned his shirt and breeches, and stood in his bare feet.

Mr. Bennet smiled, enjoying the moment far more than was charitable.

"Please come down for breakfast when you are ready, sir. My wife is quite beside herself with curiosity. And you must remember to thank me. Were it not for my intervention, you might well be wearing a vase on your head!"

Darcy heard him placating Mrs. Bennet as they left. "Yes, yes, it is quite proper. Yes, you heard me correctly...I did say Mrs. Darcy."

He would elaborate no further, saying only that he would leave it to his daughter and son-in-law to explain the situation. The ruckus had awakened the others in the household, so that by the time Elizabeth and Darcy, quite properly dressed, came downstairs, it was not only Mr. and Mrs Bennet, but Mary, Kitty, Lydia, three servants, two dogs and a cat who awaited them. All eyes gazed upon them as they descended, but no one moved, except for the smaller and more territorial of the two dogs, who immediately rushed Darcy, nipping at his ankles.

"Tonight we shall remove ourselves to Netherfield," Darcy hissed as they reached the bottom of the stairs. He plucked the offending canine from its perch on his foot.

"Agreed," Elizabeth said fervently.

Predictably, it was Lydia who greeted them first.

"Is it true, Lizzy? Have you eloped? How romantic! But why, then, have you returned to Longbourn? Were I to elope, it would be to somewhere far more interesting than Hertfordshire!"

"What about the wedding?" Kitty asked, pouting. "I so looked forward to being a bridesmaid!"

"It is far better, I believe, that virtue be preserved, but if it is not to be, it is better to marry than to burn," Mary proclaimed. Inexplicably, she smiled when she said it.

"Thank you, Mary," Elizabeth said with a resigned sigh. She glanced at Darcy, who seemed to be bearing up quite well under her sisters' inane statements and questions.

"Lizzy, surely you cannot expect us to forego a wedding entirely," said Mrs. Bennet. "We have invited just about everyone, Lizzy, and we cannot cancel it now! What would everyone say? Why, I was just telling Lady Lucas yesterday that..."

"But we are already married, Mother," Lizzy interrupted.

"Might I propose a compromise?" Darcy asked. "I shall speak to the vicar myself. Perhaps we might have a blessing in church, followed by the wedding breakfast. Would that be agreeable to you, Mrs. Bennet?"

"I suppose so," she said slowly. "Of course Lizzy must wear her wedding dress, and the girls the finery we have assembled for them, and the flowers on the altar..."

"Certainly, Mrs. Bennet. All of that will still be possible," Darcy sighed, realizing how very much it meant to her.

Elizabeth smiled at her husband gratefully. "Thank you," she whispered.

"And of course," Mrs. Bennet went on, "Lizzy will stay here with us until the wedding, and you can stay at Netherfield, Mr. Darcy. It is only proper that Lizzy be married from her own home, and that we accompany her to church."

"No, Mrs. Bennet. Elizabeth is already married, and I am her husband. We will stay together at Netherfield. That is one point I will not cede."

Darcy had spoken politely, but with no doubt as to his determination.

Mrs. Bennet opened her mouth to protest, but her husband silenced her.

"Mr. Darcy is right, Mrs. Bennet," he said, gazing at his son-in-law with open admiration. The young man clearly saved his battles for that which was important to him, and it was obvious that what was most important to him was Elizabeth.

"Can I see your ring, Lizzy?" Lydia asked excitedly, but she frowned when she saw the plain gold band. Surely Mr. Darcy, with all his wealth, might have bought a grander ring.

"That was my mother's," Darcy said. "I do have another ring, one which I purchased in London, and I suppose now is as good a time as any to give it to you, Lizzy."

He reached into his jacket pocket and produced a small black velvet box. Inside was a delicate gold band encrusted with diamonds and sapphires, and he slid it onto Elizabeth's finger, abutting the first ring.

"It is beautiful, Fitzwilliam, but I hope you will not be angry when I tell you I love the plain one better."

"Do not be foolish, child," her mother exclaimed. "No one prefers a plain gold band to one of diamonds and sapphires!"

Darcy merely smiled and squeezed his wife's hand. Her words had pleased him more than he could ever express.

It had been a harrowing morning, and Darcy gratefully agreed when Elizabeth proposed they go out for a walk together after breakfast. Once they were alone, she questioned him as to why he had presented her with the ring in her family's presence. It was so unlike his usual reticence.

"Lizzy," he said. "I was going to wait until after the wedding to give you that ring. I always planned to use my mother's ring for the ceremony. But I could sense your family's disappointment at being absent for our wedding, and I thought that giving you that ring as they looked on would, in some small way, compensate. I hope you did not mind?"

"Of course not," she said, her eyes filling with tears. "It was most generous of you, Fitzwilliam."

"Do you truly prefer the plain gold band?" he asked.

"Yes," she said, slowly twisting it around her finger. "I think...I think it is because I know your mother wore it. She wore it when she was carrying you inside her, Fitzwilliam."

He put his arm around her shoulders as they walked, so moved he found it difficult to speak. He swallowed hard and said, "Thank you for that, Lizzy. You may wear the newer one on your right hand if you like."

"That will do very well, Fitzwilliam," she said. "Your mother's ring I shall never remove."

The loving communion they felt with each other at that moment soon drove all thoughts of weddings, and flowers, and banquets, and dresses and jewels from their minds. What remained was that which was essential: the deep and abiding love each had for the other.


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At almost precisely the same moment that Mrs. Bennet learned of her daughter's marriage, Jane Bingley was receiving similar information from her husband, in a far less dramatic fashion. When he arrived home the previous evening, he could think no further than getting himself and his wife to their bedchamber as expeditously as possible and was disinclined to begin any conversation that would postpone the fulfilment of his desire.

So it was that morning at breakfast that the important disclosure was casually made.

"Where is my brother?" Georgiana asked, with a puzzled frown.

"Perhaps he went to visit his wife at Longbourn," Bingley responded, sipping his coffee.

At that statement, Jane looked up in astonishment.

"His wife?"

"Oh! Of course," Bingley said blandly. "You do not know. Elizabeth and Darcy were married two days ago, at the church in Kympton."

"Whatever for?" Jane asked.

Caroline Bingley answered. "They could not wait, apparently, in the usual manner." Her expression left no doubt as to her meaning.

"I am shocked!" Jane exclaimed. "Do Mama and Papa know?"

"I imagine they do by now," Bingley replied, "as Lizzy spent the night at Longbourn, and Darcy is apparently gone to see her."

"Oh dear, " Jane said. "I do not envy Mr. Darcy when my father takes him to task! And my mother! She has been planning the wedding so enthusiastically!"

"No point to it now," Caroline said.

"Caroline!" Bingley snapped. "I am sure some suitable arrangement will be reached. It is really none of your concern."

"I am so distressed, Charles," Jane said, and her husband placed his arm around her shoulder to comfort her.

"Do not worry yourself, my love," he said, kissing her forehead. "All will be well."

Alex Clifton stared across the table at them, then hurriedly looked away when Charles regarded him curiously.

"I am sure our wedding will be the highlight of the season, Alex," Caroline said triumphantly.

"Yes, quite," he answered.

"You might exhibit a bit more enthusiasm, Alex," Caroline said petulantly.

I might if there were any love between us, he thought.

He reached for her hand and kissed it.

"I may not show my enthusiasm, Caroline, but I eagerly anticipate our wedding, you may be assured."

She appeared sufficiently satisfied with his statement to resume her monologue about the wedding. Clifton soon withdrew into his thoughts, and her chattering receded into no more than an incessant drone.

"We must visit at Longbourn today, Charles! I must speak to Lizzy," Jane said.

"Of course," Bingley replied. "I will see to the carriage, and we can be there by noon. Will you all accompany us?"

Georgiana eagerly agreed, but Caroline demurred.

"I would rather not, Charles. Quite frankly, I am incapable of being in so boisterous an atmosphere as Longbourn so soon after traveling. I am far too exhausted today."

Charles hesitated. Would it be advisable to leave Caroline and Clifton unchaperoned?

Silly thought. The two appeared nearly indifferent to each other, and there was a house full of servants at Netherfield. No, he need not worry.

"You and Alex may remain at Netherfield then, Caroline. We shall return in time for tea."

Caroline regarded Alex Clifton thoughtfully. He was expressionless.

I should like to see how much enthusiasm I might inspire in him without my brother's restraining presence. I do not know where his passions lie, but perhaps it is time I find out.

Caroline Bingley, unpracticed as she was in the arts of seduction, did not know how to go about arousing Mr. Clifton's passions. The two of them were alone in the house except for a dozen servants who would not, after all, intrude upon them unless summoned.

She regarded her fiance thoughtfully as he sat in the library reading the newspaper.

"Alex, will you not come sit next to me?" she asked encouragingly, patting the cushion next to where she sat on the divan.

He turned his head slowly to look at her. Her expression was clear and guileless.

"Certainly, Caroline," he said pleasantly, putting his newspaper aside and rising to his feet.

He sat down next to her, and she moved closer to him so that their legs touched, then reached over to pat his knee. He, in turn, put his hand over hers.

"We are quite alone, Alex," she said meaningfully.

He smiled. "Yes," he agreed.

"Most men would want to take advantage of such solitude," she said, her lips tilted up invitingly.

Good God, she wants me to kiss her.

"I...that is...we are in your brother's house, Caroline!"

"But my brother is not!"

There was nothing for it. They were alone, they were engaged to be married, and he would have to kiss her.

Alex leaned closer to Caroline, his lips brushing hers. It was an odd sensation, kissing her. It was not altogether unpleasant, but he felt no pressing desire to repeat the process.

"Surely you can do better than that, Alex," Caroline pouted.

He nodded and took a deep breath.

I must close my eyes. I cannot bear to look at her.

Caroline draped her arms around Alex's neck, and finally, he returned the embrace. He pressed his lips tightly against hers, then opened his mouth wider. It occurred to Caroline that one of them, at least, should be moving their lips, and it appeared it would be up to her to do so.

Alex shuddered, but Caroline interpreted it as a passionate reaction to her attentions, and was greatly encouraged. She had more than once come upon Darcy and Elizabeth, or Jane and Charles, kissing, and they certainly appeared more enthusiastic than she and Clifton. Still, the kiss was not all that bad for a first effort, she thought, and he smelled quite nice, as well.

There was the sound of footsteps in the hall, and the affianced couple pulled apart. Caroline assumed that Alex would require more intimate contact after they were married, and she had a vague, if rather incomplete, understanding of what such contact would entail. The mechanics of the act, as far as she understood them, seemed an unpleasant, awkward business at best, and she rather hoped it would occur most infrequently.

Still, she wanted Alex to want her, even if she did not want him. It was the only leverage, really, that a woman held over a man once they were married, and Caroline intended to use that leverage to her best advantage.

Alex never stared at her with that intensity she had seen in Darcy when he was looking at Elizabeth. But then, she reasoned, when Alex had been courting Elizabeth, he did not seem particularly aroused by her, either.

It was a puzzle, to be sure, but one that Caroline Bingley was determined to solve.

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Elizabeth and Darcy were still standing outside the house, and Jane Bingley greeted them warmly upon her arrival at Longbourn.

"Mr. Darcy, it appears you are now my brother, somewhat sooner than anticipated. Of course, I am most happy for the two of you, but Lizzy...how did Mama and Papa react to the news?"

"It was interesting, to say the least, Jane! Papa was disconcerted at first, and Mama more concerned about being deprived of a grand wedding celebration, but Mr. Darcy's tact and wisdom won the day, to the satisfaction of all!"

Darcy smiled. "You give me too much credit, Elizabeth."

"Not at all, Sir!" she said teasingly. "Once you reassured Mama that the Hertfordshire social event of the year could go on as planned, she was thoroughly reconciled to our early marriage and easily overcame the shock of seeing you emerge from my bedroom this morning!"

Jane's eyes widened.

"Lizzy! What is your meaning? We had assumed Mr. Darcy arrived at Longbourn early this morning!"

"You assume incorrectly, Jane. Mr. Darcy arrived at Longbourn in the dead of night and created quite a commotion, I assure you."

Bingley shook his head.

"I am shocked, Darcy. Impetuousness is one characteristic I would never have attributed to you!"

Darcy looked a bit offended at the ridicule.

"I assure you, Bingley, there was nothing impetuous about my actions. I have never done anything more logical in my life. My wife's place is with me," he said simply.

"You are far too accustomed to having everything you want, Darcy," Bingley replied.

"Not always," Darcy said softly, recalling the painful year he had spent apart from Elizabeth.

Elizabeth understood his meaning, and her expression softened. She slipped her arm through his.

"You make it very unsatisfying to tease you, Fitzwilliam!"

"Not so unsatisfying that you will cease doing it?" he said with a smile.

"As long as it makes you smile like that, no, I will never cease doing it," Elizabeth said brightly.

Georgiana said nothing, but reflected with satisfaction that she had never seen her brother smile so much as he had since Elizabeth re-entered his life.

Mrs. Bennet saw her two eldest daughters and her two wealthy sons-in-law from the window and went to the door to bid them come inside.

"Lizzy! Jane! Why do you all linger outside, luncheon will soon be served! And my grandson will catch his death of cold in that wind."

Elizabeth sighed and refrained from pointing out that little Charles was well covered, and that the breeze wafting over them was a warm one. She glanced at her husband, who returned her apologetic smile with one of his own. Even her mother's exuberance could not quell his good humour this day, it seemed.

Yes, Mr. Darcy was well pleased. Everyone in the world who mattered now knew of their marriage, and Elizabeth would lie by his side this night and every night to come.

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It was an awkward business for Mrs. Bennet to explain to curious friends and neighbours why Elizabeth was spending the final days before her marriage at Netherfield, rather than at Longbourn. Mr. Bennet himself frankly informed the Gardiners and the Phillipses that Elizabeth and Mr. Darcy were, in fact, already married, but acceded to his wife's desire to conceal the truth for as long as possible from all others. He had never been one to give much thought to others' opinions of himself in any event, and any concessions he had made to society and "propriety" over the years had been with the purpose of getting his daughters well married. As that purpose had been achieved beyond even his wife's grandiose expectations and he fully expected that his younger daughters, by virtue of their elder sisters' new connections, would be married to men well able to provide for them, he could now curtail even his half-hearted attempts at conformity.

He delighted in teasing Lizzy about being on her honeymoon at Netherfield before her wedding, which was not really a wedding at all!

"And after this supposed wedding, Lizzy," he said with a twinkle in his eye one night after dinner at Netherfield, "will there be another honeymoon?"

"We will remain at Pemberley, Papa," Elizabeth said patiently. "We had hoped to visit the Continent, but as Miss Bingley's wedding will be in early September, we thought it best to remain in the country."

"Ah, yes! Miss Bingley's wedding! To the cryptic Mr. Clifton. Excellent!" Mr. Bennet said, taking a sip of wine.

"Such a curious match," Mrs. Bennet said. "Such an unenthusiastic young man."

"Indeed," said Mr. Bennet. "Try as I might, I cannot imagine Mr. Clifton banging on the door at Netherfield in the middle of the night demanding to see his intended bride."

Mr. Darcy rolled his eyes.

"Papa, please!" Elizabeth whispered. "They will hear you," she said, glancing in the direction of Jane and Charles.

"And what say you, Darcy, of Mr. Clifton?"

"I have no opinion, Sir," Darcy answered, remembering how closely Mr. Clifton had come to banging on a bedroom door at Netherfield, but not that of his intended bride!

"Papa, really! Miss Bingley's opinion of Mr. Clifton is the one that matters, is it not?"

At just that moment, the couple in question entered the room. Caroline was talking, Clifton was listening, and the gentleman was in the room but a minute before his eyes roamed in the direction of the Bingleys. Darcy knew, and Elizabeth thought she knew, precisely whom the object of his desirous glance was, but they were united in their pity for him.

Mr. Clifton had learned since the near disaster at Netherfield to curtail his emotions, and while he was grateful for Darcy's discretion, he found himself embarrassed in that gentleman's company. He valued Darcy's good opinion, and while Darcy's interaction with him was as polite as ever, he wondered whether Darcy despised him underneath the cordial exteriour. So after indulging himself for a matter of seconds, he forced himself to look away from Charles Bingley and directly into the eyes of his fiancee. The effort was not lost on Darcy, and he felt a grudging respect for the man.

"Good evening, Alex," Darcy said. Mr. Clifton looked at him in surprise. Darcy, despite being considerably more civilized since his engagement and marriage to Elizabeth Bennet, rarely made the first move socially.

"Good evening, Darcy," Clifton answered, with a grateful nod.

"Mr. and Mrs. Darcy!" Caroline said. "How many days remain until your wedding? Oh, not your wedding, is it? What shall I call it? The celebration of your marriage?"

Darcy would not dignify her question with a response.

"Just two days, Caroline, as you well know," Bingley answered.

"It seems to me the celebration began well before the marriage," she said under her breath.

"What did you say, Caroline?" Bingley asked sharply.

"That it is a marriage well worth celebrating, Charles," she answered, with an air of injured innocence on her face.

Mr. Clifton, who had been standing close to Caroline, had heard exactly what she had said.

"May I speak to you privately, Caroline?" he asked, not waiting for her response as he steered her into the hall.

"Yes, Alex?" she asked.

"Caroline, you are not yet my wife, but it is time I made something clear to you. Mr. and Mrs. Darcy are not only friends, but Charles's sister and brother. Your pointed remarks do not go unnoticed by them, and they will no longer be tolerated by me. Is that understood?"

"I beg your pardon?" she answered indignantly.

"It is not my pardon that is required, as you well know. Your latest remark was not overheard by anyone other than myself, thank the Lord, but be assured that if any of them had overheard it, I would demand that you apologize immediately."

"And if I refused?"

"I would no longer be willing to marry you, Caroline."

Caroline opened her mouth to respond, but the steely glint in Clifton's eyes forced her to shut it again.

"You are to be my wife, and hopefully the mother of my children, and I expect you to behave civilly, Caroline. I will not ask much of you, and I will give you much in return."

He waited for a reply, but none was forthcoming. He folded his arms across his chest.

"Well?"

Caroline coloured.

"I...I am sorry."

He nodded.

"Good."

And with that, he bent down and kissed her with more enthusiasm than he ever had before.

Caroline, quite suddenly, felt rather warm. Not just physically, but in her emotions toward Mr. Clifton.


Chapter 32

Mrs. Bennet awakened quite early on the morning of the wedding breakfast. There was to be a ceremony at church, a blessing of the marriage of Mr. and Mrs. Darcy by the local vicar, who had seemed somewhat perplexed at the rather unorthodox request. He was quickly won over, however, by the elevated rank of the requestor, Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy of Pemberley, Derbyshire.

The little country church was overflowing with guests. Mrs. Darcy dressed in pale yellow, to her husband's delight, and Mr. Darcy wore a morning coat of charcoal grey. They were a most striking couple, all the more beautiful for having made love more than once during the night. Mr. Bennet tried not to think about the reason for the telling glow on his daughter's face; instead, he gave silent thanks for her obvious happiness in marriage to a man who clearly adored her.

The vicar had been forced by circumstances to improvise, and he rose to the occasion admirably.

"Dearly beloved, we are gathered here this morning to celebrate the marriage of Fitzwilliam Darcy and Elizabeth Bennet Darcy, present before us. Let us ask God's blessing on them as we wish them prosperity and happiness in their future life together."

Elizabeth slipped her hand into her husband's as the vicar spoke. She looked around her, at her family and neighbours, and at Georgiana Darcy, who returned her loving smile.

Mr. Darcy squeezed his wife's hand. He, too, looked around him, at all those who loved them. He had caught the loving glance between his wife and sister, and he silently thanked God for bringing Elizabeth back into their lives.

He had, at first, agreed to this ceremony to make his in-laws happy, but he now realized that it was important for himself and Elizabeth as well. All these people, in varying degrees, had contributed to the progress of their courtship, and it was fitting that they all be there to witness the celebration of their marriage.

When the ceremony was concluded, Darcy needed no prelate's permission to kiss his bride. He leaned down and kissed her softly, but at such length that his father-in-law coughed loudly. Mr. Bennet had risen to kiss his daughter and shake his son-in-law's hand, and he whispered, "Mr. Darcy, you need not devour your wife, I assure you Mrs. Bennet has a bounteous wedding breakfast planned."

"Yes, Sir," Darcy replied, blushing.

Elizabeth laughed. How she would miss her father's acerbic wit, even when it was at her own expense!

"You must come to Pemberley often, Papa," she said, with tears in her eyes.

"I most assuredly will, child, and Mr. Darcy, it need not be with the entire family on every occasioni!"

"Your entire family is always welcome, of that you may be certain, Mr. Bennet," Darcy replied, and to his own surprise, he found he meant it. His eyes rested on his sister, who was exhibiting an uncharacteristically girlish enthusiasm in comparing wedding finery with Lydia and Kitty Bennet. Yes, there have been benefits to both of us in our association with the Bennets.

The entire assembly proceeded to Longbourn where, as Mr. Bennet had promised, the grandest of feasts awaited them. Elizabeth had never seen her husband so animated among company. He was even cordial to Sir William Lucas, who superciliously congratulated him on carrying away the jewel of the county, because he rather agreed with him.

Elizabeth was, indeed, a jewel, far more precious than the necklace of rubies and diamonds he had given her as a wedding gift.

Caroline Bingley and Alex Clifton approached, and Elizabeth prepared herself for the usual barbed remark, but to her surprise, Caroline was friendly and sincere in her congratulations. Her arm was linked through Clifton's and she appeared almost happy, Elizabeth thought.

"It was a lovely ceremony, Eliza, and your dress is quite becoming," she said.

"Why, thank you, Caroline," Elizabeth answered.

"Congratulations, Darcy," Clifton said, shaking his hand.

"Thank you, Alex," Darcy responded, somewhat in shock at Caroline's improved behaviour.

"I only hope our own wedding will be as joyful," Caroline added.

"I am sure it will be, my dear," Alex answered, reaching over to pat her arm.

Elizabeth shook her head in confusion after they departed. She looked at Darcy.

"Am I dreaming?"

"It does seem odd," Darcy said thoughtfully.

"Perhaps there is more there than meets the eye, Fitzwilliam. Perhaps they..." she said, but stopped, blushing.

"Let us not discuss the private lives of others, Elizabeth," Darcy said somewhat sternly. He knew better than any other how much more there was there than met the eye!

"You are right," she answered solemnly, thinking, I must remember to speak to Jane about this later!

Because the weather was so delightful, much of the celebration took place outdoors. Mr. and Mrs. Darcy circulated among the guests, and soon the unusual timing of the celebration, some three weeks after the wedding in Derbyshire, was forgotten in the excitement of the day. More than one gentleman envied Darcy his glowing bride, and more than one woman envied Elizabeth her handsome, wealthy husband. Elizabeth's dress, ring, and beautifully arranged hair were openly admired by the ladies, and her comely figure, enticingly displayed in the softly clinging fabric of her yellow silk dress, was surreptitiously admired by the men. Their glances were not lost on Darcy, who asked Elizabeth if he might drape her shawl around her shoulders, a rather curious request in light of the warm, sunny weather. She smiled at his solicitude, but replied in the negative, and he had to content himself with possessively draping his arm around her shoulders and glowering at the younger, and generally bolder, gentlemen in question!

"Come, my love," he whispered after the festivities were a few hours hold. "Let us return to Netherfield before the others."

"What do you have in mind, Sir?" she asked teasingly.

"A few hours alone with my wife," he responded, signalling to his man to summon the carriage.

"In broad daylight?" she asked, trying to appear shocked at the suggestion.

"Hardly," he said. "I will wait until we are indoors, I assure you."

He bent down to whisper in her ear.

"But not much longer."

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Upon their arrival at Netherfield, Elizabeth and Darcy proceeded to their bedroom with alacrity. He took her in his arms to kiss her, but she suddenly pulled away.

"You promised me, Sir, that when we were married you would tell me of your dream."

He frowned. "Of what do you speak, Elizabeth?"

"Let me help you recall. At Rosings, you came upon me in the park, and you wished to sweep me away with you on your horse. And that night, you dreamed, 'in explicit detail,' as you put it, of..."

"Ahhhh, yes," he said, seating himself in an armchair and leaning back, staring at her intensely.

"So now that we are married and the innocence you wished to protect is long gone, it is time for you to fulfill your promise and provide me with all those explicit details!"

"I see," he said, his eyes dancing. "Your three weeks' experience as a married woman has so corrupted you as to enable you to withstand the shock of hearing the particulars."

"Never mind! I insist you tell me!"

"Is that so, Lizzy?" he drawled.

"Yes, Fitzwilliam, you did promise me you would!"

"Perhaps it is better I demonstrate," he said.

"How so, William? We cannot saddle your horse here in the bedroom!"

"You may imagine the horse if you wish, Lizzy."

He spread his knees and beckoned to her.

"Come closer."

Her face burning, Elizabeth did as he asked.

"Between my knees. Now face away from me.Yes, exactly so. Are you imagining a horse, Lizzy?"

"I am imagining all sorts of things, William!"

"Imagine, then, that you are in front of me, astride a magnificent steed." Lizzy felt him fumbling with the front of his breeches, and she reached behind her back to take his erection into her hand.

"Magnificent, indeed," she said.

He slapped her hand away. "Might I remind you this is my dream?"

She giggled.

"And no giggling, naughty girl!" he said. "In my dream, as I recall, you were taken quite by surprise when your maidenly virtue was compromised."

He began to roll up her skirts, taking care to tuck the gathered fabric into the sash at her waist so that they would not fall back down. He reached between her legs, his fingers stroking her silky, wet recesses.

"It seems you were quite bold in your dream!" she exclaimed, writhing upon his hand.

"Well...perhaps I am embellishing a bit."

"Ahhhh...you embellish quite well, William" she moaned.

"And this is how we rode, Lizzy, until the horse came upon a bump in the path and you rose up quite suddenly," he said, his hands spanning her waist.

"And when you settled back down," he continued, lowering her slowly onto his rigid member, "you were impaled most pleasurably."

"Mmmm, William...." she sighed, as he slid easily into her, "this will make me far less inclined to ride sidesaddle in future. And tell me, Sir, at what pace did the horse proceed?"

"At a slow trot," he said, thrusting up and down, "until I gave him a taste of the crop." At this, he slapped her bare backside briskly with both hands and quickened the pace of his movements.

"Thus stimulated," he said, "he broke into a gallop."

Elizabeth began to move up and down rapidly with him.

"Faster, Lizzy," he urged, and she complied, taking his hand and guiding it between her legs, so that he might stimulate her where it was most effective. He gently encircled her most sensitive spot with the tip of his thumb, and she tightened around his erection in response.

"William...soon..." she said, as she felt the first wave of orgasm overtaking her.

"Yes, Lizzy, yes...just like that...how well you ride me...oh God...Lizzy...how tight you are..."

One last thrust, and he pressed his palms against the tops of her thighs, holding her tightly to him as they peaked together. She fell back against him, exhausted, as he kissed the back of her neck, whispering words of endearment.

"I love you so much...I know not how I lived without you, Lizzy," he said, wrapping his arms around her waist. She took his hands in hers and kissed them.

"My husband," she said softly. "How I love you."

She rested against him comfortably as they regained their composure.

"I fear your breeches are ruined, William," she teased, "and the chair..."

"...looks remarkably like my bed linens did after I awakened from that dream, Lizzy," he concluded.

Elizabeth blushed at his implication.

"So Lizzy...might we have conceived a baby this afternoon?"

"I do believe we might have, William. A little filly, perhaps?"

He threw back his head and laughed. "You are usually right, Lizzy, about most things."

And indeed she was.

Chapter 33

Mr. and Mrs. Darcy's first summer at Pemberley was an idyllic one. July and August were the happiest months of Fitzwilliam Darcy's life. They were spent enjoying his wife's companionship and her wonder at the paradise that was now her home. He delighted in showing her Pemberley's hidden gardens and valleys, her arm tucked in his as they walked slowly around the lake. Any compliment she offered on his taste or exclamation of delight she made at some newfound natural beauty was rewarded with a kiss. As Pemberley's grounds were vast and it would take far longer than one summer for Elizabeth to see all its wonders, Darcy reasoned he would never run out of inspiration for kissing her!

Elizabeth was, indeed, with child as a result of their equine-inspired activities that June afternoon at Netherfield. It was an excellent excuse to keep their social engagements to a minimum; in fact, they did not leave Pemberley until September, on the occasion of Caroline Bingley and Alex Clifton's wedding. Elizabeth was a hardy soul with the rugged constitution of a country girl and, in truth, experienced little of the usual discomfort and nausea that accompanied early pregnancy, but Darcy unashamedly used her condition to avoid the sort of false society he had always detested anyway.

The truth of the matter was, Elizabeth was finally his, and he was loath to share her. Elizabeth's family, of course, visited them frequently, and he tolerated them with equanimity. Mrs. Bennet's delight at her two eldest daughters' being so well situated, along with her awe at her son-in-law's standing, had tempered her demeanour somewhat. Darcy always treated his mother-in-law with the utmost consideration, for whatever his opinion of her, Mrs. Bennet was responsible for producing the treasure that made his life blissful. But even so, when the Bennets were ready to take their leave, he was gratified to see them go, because it meant Elizabeth was his alone, once again.

"I know I am a selfish brute, Lizzy," he said on one such occasion, as they stood outside the house, watching the Bennets' carriage disappear in the distance.

"How so, Fitzwilliam?" she asked, knowing full well what he meant.

"I do not like sharing you," he said seriously.

She smiled and crossed her hands over her belly.

"Soon you will share me with a very demanding rival, Sir," she said.

"A rival of my own creation," he said, with a cheeky grin. "If she is as delightful as her mother, I shall soon reconcile myself to sharing you."

Elizabeth did not question his certainty that the baby would be a girl, as she concurred in that opinion.

"I do admit, Fitzwilliam, that a fortnight with my family has proven to be fatiguing."

He was instantly all concern and solicitude.

"Are you tired, my love? It is warm here in the sun, come inside. An hour's nap would do you a world of good."

Despite her feeble protests, he swept her into his arms and carried her into the house.

"Really, Fitzwilliam, I am quite capable of walking!"

"Never mind!"

Georgiana smiled tolerantly at the now familiar sight of her brother carrying Elizabeth up the stairs.

"Your brother is determined to carry me as often as possible, Georgiana, before I grow too heavy with child!"

"Are you intimating, Madam, that I would lack the strength to carry you with the addition of a mere stone or two of weight?"

Georgiana chuckled. Truly, since his marriage to Elizabeth, Fitzwilliam seemed younger, somehow.

Elizabeth's response was muffled as she buried her lips in her husband's neck, and Georgiana heard her brother's soft, happy laughter as they reached the top of the stairs.

The last sound she heard was that of their bedchamber door closing.


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Caroline Bingley remained at Netherfield during the months leading up to her marriage. Alex was still a puzzle to her, and while he was not so compliant as he once had been, he treated her with respect and kindness. His estate was near enough that he was able to call at Netherfield almost every day, but he avoided staying the night. He could not forget how closely he had come to betraying his feelings to Charles Bingley, and such proximity throughout the night would be intolerable. He was always able to find some excuse to return to Rosewood before midnight.

That is, he was able to do so until one night in mid-July, some seven weeks before their wedding. The party had lingered over dinner, and the steady rain that had been falling all evening became something far more violent and threatening. A torrential downpour, accompanied by strong winds and thunder and lightning, made it foolhardy for him to venture even the short distance to his estate, and Charles insisted that he remain for the night.

All were in bed and the house was dark for the night when a particularly loud clap of thunder awakened him, and Alex was unable to get back to sleep. He slipped into his dressing gown and went downstairs, seeking a drink to calm his nerves. To his surprise, Charles was in the drawing room, a glass of sherry in his hand.

"I say, Alex, you could not sleep either?"

"No, my friend, I could not."

"One of the hazards of living in the country, I suppose. The extremes of weather can be trying."

Alex took the glass of sherry Charles offered him. In his dressing gown, his golden hair tousled from sleep, Charles was more beautiful than Alex had ever seen him before.

"I shall be married to your sister in three weeks' time," Alex said dully.

"Are you questioning the wisdom of your decision?" Charles asked carefully.

Alex merely shrugged and took a long swig of sherry.

"I am her brother, Alex. Tell me the truth. Is there someone else you regret?"

Alex stared at him and nodded.

Charles, remembering Alex's courtship of Elizabeth, delved further.

"Someone very close to me, I think, Alex. Am I correct?"

Alex laughed.

"Exceedingly close, Charles. But you need not worry. My disappointment shall never be revealed, and I assure you that Caroline will have no cause to regret marrying me."

"I am glad to hear it," Charles said, and he moved closer to Alex, pulling him into a brotherly embrace.

It was dark in the room and it was good it was so, as if Alex's face had been visible, even one so unassuming as Charles Bingley could not have failed to see the love and longing there. Alex returned the embrace, perhaps more enthusiastically than he should have, and briefly nuzzled Bingley's soft hair.

He soon found it prudent to pull away, fearful that the arousal he was experiencing would be apparent if he did not.

"I will be returning upstairs, Alex," Charles said shortly. "Will you be joining me?"

If only we could truly be joined, Alex thought. One night...just one night...

"Not just yet, Charles," Alex responded. "I think I shall finish my sherry and listen to the storm."

"As you wish, old man," Charles said. "Things will look better in the morning, I am sure, when the sun comes out."

"Will they?" Alex whispered softly as he left.

He sat there for some time, remembering how Charles had felt in his arms and how right it had felt to be close to him. He sat and closed his eyes, giving free rein to his imagination, and once his fantasy took hold, he could not stop himself. He was in dire need of relief and he took himself in hand, imagining it was Charles stroking him, Charles loving him. He was near the point of release when a female voice stopped him cold.

"Alex! What on earth are you doing?"

Remarkably, Caroline sounded neither shocked nor angry. Her eyes were glowing, and her manner one of excited curiosity.

"What does it appear I am doing, Caroline?" he snapped, quickly covering himself.

"You were thinking about me, were you not?" she asked, with some satisfaction.

"Of course. I could think of no other." The irony in his tone was lost on Caroline.

"Come here, Alex," she whispered. She was wearing a nightdress, her hair down, and to Alex's surprise she was more attractive to him in her present, natural state.

He obliged her, and when she pressed herself up against him, it was obvious to her that he was aroused.

"It is but three weeks to our wedding, Alex," she said meaningfully, closing her eyes as he kissed her.

"Are you giving me leave to...?" Alex asked doubtfully.

"Yes," she said. "Yes!"

Alex came to a decision. She was not Charles, she was not even Jane, but she was to be his wife. When it came right down to it, it would be his duty to bed her. Somehow, he would have to stomach it, and as he was more ready now than he ever had been in her company, perhaps it was time he test his fortitude.

Without a word, he turned her around and pushed her face down over the arm of the chair and roughly pulled up her nightdress. If he had to take her, he would position her as he would a man. Hers was an angular bottom, he discovered, not at all feminine, not soft and round as Elizabeth's would undoubtedly be.

"Alex...this is not how I imagined..." Caroline protested and he slapped her bottom briskly in response.

"Be quiet, Caroline," he demanded. "Just for once, be quiet and do as you are told. Spread your legs and lift yourself higher!"

She hesitated, and was punished with another slap on her bare backside, and quickly, she complied.

He positioned himself at the entrance to her sex, and was surprised to find her ready to accept him. He did not dare to truly take her as he would a man...no, that would come after they married...but he could press up against her bottom as he plunged into her, imagining something else...someone else.

Caroline gasped as her maidenhead gave way, but Alex's forcefulness and vigorous thrusting proved more pleasurable than she ever would have imagined. The brief flash of pain was soon over, and she cried out in pleasure as she experienced the first orgasm of her life.

Alex, too, was soon spent, and he hastily arose and tied his dressing gown closed.

He could not look at her.

"Caroline," he mumbled. "I am sorry...I forgot myself...forgive me."

She laughed softly as she pulled down her nightdress.

"You are forgiven, Alex. That was most surprising, I must say. Although I must warn you, I rather doubt we shall have such an opportunity again before the wedding."

"That will be difficult, indeed," he responded.

"Can you bear to wait until September to have me again?" she asked smugly.

"One cannot always have what one wants, Caroline. Hasten upstairs to bed before your brother comes in search of us."

"Very well, Alex," she responded. "Are you not going to kiss me good-night first?"

"Of course," he sighed, guilt sweeping over him. Even Caroline Bingley did not deserve such a half-hearted lover, he thought.

Still, he kissed her and she appeared satisfied.

Perhaps, he thought, some sort of compromise was possible, after all.


Chapter 34

Caroline Bingley and Alex Clifton were married in early September as planned. It was, indeed, the social event of the season, and Charles Bingley spared no expense in marrying off his sister.

Caroline was elegant and stylish in her embroidered gown, fashioned of imported lace and silk. The empire bodice of the dress was snug in fit, and her sister Louisa regarded her curiously. She had never seen Caroline appearing so...buxom! It was astounding, she thought, what one could accomplish with the proper undergarments and stays.

All of Hertfordshire and much of London turned out for the festivities, and Caroline noted with satisfaction that the number of guests far surpassed the number present at the Darcys' wedding breakfast in June. If Caroline looked somewhat pale as she walked down the aisle of the church on her brother's arm, the guests attributed it to her customary avoidance of the summer sun.

Mr. and Mrs. Darcy had been seen little in company since their marriage, and many of those present marveled at the change in Fitzwilliam Darcy. He who had smiled so little, it seemed, during the first twenty-eight years of his life, now seemed almost jocular in his attitude. He rarely left his wife's side, but was perfectly amiable when others approached them. Elizabeth Darcy was positively radiant, glowing with love and a healthy pregnancy. She was but three months along and had not gained much weight as yet.

Caroline Bingley Clifton, however, had. It was fortunate, she thought wryly as she and Alex exchanged vows, that the wedding was taking place today and not several weeks hence.

Her maid Annie had remarked upon the difficulty of fastening the buttons of her wedding gown that morning as she helped her dress. Seeing her mistress's expression, she wisely held her tongue.

No doubt Annie suspects, but it is of no concern, Caroline thought as Clifton slipped the wedding ring on her finger. We are married now, and we are by no means the first couple of our acquaintance who has anticipated their wedding vows!

It was something of a relief to Caroline that she was already expecting. Her first sexual encounter had been puzzling, even if it had been oddly satisfying, and she had a vague idea there was something exceedingly peculiar about her new husband's proclivities. Perhaps it was better that she would have these next seven or eight months free of his demands if she so chose.

Still...there had been something quite pleasing about Alex's uncustomary forcefulness in making love to her. She had felt, for those few minutes, utterly powerless and had rather enjoyed the feeling. There was a point in their encounter when she realized that she would have not been able to stop him, even if she so chose, and the realization had been surprisingly thrilling.

Yet, in the weeks that followed, Alex had withdrawn from her once again. She had yet to tell him of their impending parenthood and she wondered how he would greet the news. Would he resent the restrictions her condition would undoubtedly impose on their bedroom activities?

She gazed curiously at Elizabeth and Darcy as the wedding festivities progressed. Elizabeth Darcy was three months' pregnant, yet she and her husband, Caroline was certain, had not suspended intimacies. It was quite obvious, by the way he doted on her and absent-mindedly touched her when he thought they were unobserved. There was a physical familiarity about them that was obvious to anyone who took the time to observe their interaction with each other, and more than one man present envied Darcy his responsive wife.

Caroline was maddeningly uncertain as to whether such a relationship was what she herself wanted. She did not love Alex Clifton, but her desire had been awakaned by that one intense, unusual encounter at Netherfield. Something had triggered Alex's urgency that night, and she was not certain what that something was.


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Alex and Caroline's wedding night was distinctly anti-climactic. They were both fatigued from the day's events, she perhaps more so because of the draining effects of early pregnancy. He kissed her perfunctorily, made some comment on her having made a lovely bride, and promptly fell asleep.

So it was on the morning following the day of her marriage that Caroline Clifton informed her new husband that they were to be parents. She watched him carefully as she made the important communication, and a variety of expressions passed in quick succession across his face.

Surprise, happiness and...relief?

He took both her hands in his.

"That is wonderful news, Caroline, just wonderful! Is it certain?"

"Quite certain, Alex. Do you think...that is, will it cause a scandal?"

"Hang the scandal, Caroline! We are married, and nothing could make me happier than your producing an heir so soon after our marriage. You must take excellent care of yourself, my dear, and not exert yourself in any way."

She moved closer to him in the bed and lay her head on his chest.

"Alex, we are newly married. Are we not going to...that is...has it has been difficult for you these last weeks? The anticipation?"

"Of course, of course it has, Caroline! But I would not dream of making those sorts of demands on you in your delicate condition. Certainly not until the doctor has seen you and pronounced it safe and advisable."

Caroline frowned. This was not how matters were supposed to progress. Alex was supposed to want her more than she wanted him!

She was somewhat disappointed, in fact, when the doctor advised against marital relations, at least until the pregnancy was more advanced. Caroline was tall, but narrowly built in the womanly areas crucial to carrying a pregnancy to term.

"Do not worry yourself, my love," Alex reassured her "I would not dream of doing anything that would put you or our child in jeopardy."

"Are you one of those men who will take a mistress during his wife's confinement?" Caroline demanded. She could not bear the humiliation of such a circumstance.

Alex laughed slightly and shook his head.

"You need not worry about that, Caroline. Nothing could be further from my mind."

Alex's almost saintly abstinence irked Caroline for some reason. For one thing, even as her pregnancy advanced, he avoided her bed and spent many hours riding around the grounds of the estate. She found that pregnancy made her desire even more the sort of physical contact she had experienced but once, but she was determined not to be the one to bring up the subject first. Alex never ventured far from home, so she was quite certain he was not seeking the comfort of another woman, but it was a blow to her pride that he did not seem to desire her, even a little!

To make matters more irritating to Caroline, once the fatigue and nausea of early pregnancy had passed, she found herself recalling with pleasure her furtive encounter with Alex before their marriage. Her awareness of her own body had never been keener, and she found her condition produced a state of near-constant sexual arousal. A week before Christmas, she made discreet inquiries of Mr. Stephens, her physician, who assured her she was well past the time when amorous activities might be hazardous.

But while Caroline had her physician's leave to proceed and her own need to do so, Alex seemed to have lost interest in her entirely, at least in that aspect of their relationship. He was still solicitous, if somewhat distracted, but as her appearance was more womanly in the bloom of pregnancy than ever before, she failed to inspire any interest in him sexually. He could have tolerated her better in her usual, lean, angular shape and perhaps been able to imagine her as...but never mind, she was pregnant, anyway, and he felt that was reason enough for her to accept his avoidance of her bed.

And, indeed, Alex had found an outlet for his sexual energy in the person of a young groom from one of the neighbouring estates. His name was Geoffrey, and he bore enough of a resemblance to Charles Bingley for Alex to find him a tolerable enough replacement. He was but twenty years old, and was flattered by the attentions of a gentleman such as Alex Clifton, who was kind and generous and did not hesitate to exhibit his generosity in a manner that was beneficial to Geoffrey and his family.

Should my father discover the nature of our friendship, Geoffrey thought, the consequences would be dire indeed.

But he was young, and with the recklessness of youth, he did not allow that thought to intrude upon his pleasure with Alex Clifton.


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With less than three months remaining until her confinement, Elizabeth was determined to make the most of her first Christmas with her husband. Darcy lovingly scolded her when he observed her overexerting herself , and would often take her by the hand and force her to rest. But Elizabeth, always an energetic person, was experiencing that instinct that often inspires increased activity in late pregnancy, and no sooner did Darcy leave the room than she was on her feet again, bustling about, full of excitement and ideas for the upcoming holidays.

All the family would be at Pemberley for Christmas. Not only her parents and sisters would be their guests, but Jane, Charles, Alex and Caroline as well. Caroline was growing more and more restless as the days passed, and she was glad of the opportunity to be in company, even with Elizabeth Bennet's family!

Before they departed for Pemberley, Alex presented his young friend Geoffrey with a gold pocket watch, finer than anything the young man had ever owned. It was engraved on the back of the case "To G. from A., Christmas 1813." The young man blushed, as he had nothing for Alex; any money he earned went directly to the support of his parents and six younger siblings.

"It is no matter, Geoff," Alex said kindly. "What you have given me exceeds any material gift."

Alex looked over his shoulder, and seeing no one in the vicinity, kissed the young man and embraced him.

"I will be away from Hertfordshire for a fortnight. I will miss you," he said truthfully.

"And I, you," Geoffrey replied. "When will you take your leave?"

"The day after tomorrow," Alex said. "Perhaps tomorrow, if you are at liberty...?" he inquired.

"I will make every effort," Geoffrey said.

But when Alex saw Geoffrey on the following day, it was not for the purpose he had hoped. Geoffrey's attitude was one of fear and shame, and he hastily threw the watch into Alex's hand. His face was bruised, his eye blackened, and his lips trembled as he spoke.

"My father," he whispered. "I am afraid he has always suspected my nature, Alex. He saw the watch, and demanded I reveal your name, but I would not. He was drunk out of his mind, and he beat me with his fists, then when he grew tired of that, with his belt.

"He threatened to kill both of us, should he discover your identity, and I've no reason to doubt his word. I have to go away, Alex, I could not bear to put you in danger."

"Where will you go?" Alex asked, distraught and guilty at what his actions had wrought upon his lover.

"I do not know. I will manage."

He protested as Alex pressed some money into his hands, but Alex insisted.

Geoffrey stared at him for one long moment, then put his arms around Alex and kissed him.

"I love you, Alex," he said.

"God preserve you, Geoffrey," Alex answered, looking away in shame.

He loved me, Alex thought as Geoffrey left. He loved me, and how did I repay him? By ruining his young life.

And now, as though matters were not complicated enough, he would be spending the next fortnight in the company of the one man he truly loved and could never have. He felt remorseful, he felt worthless, and he knew not how he might manage to go on.

But if he felt incapable of doing so for himself, Alex knew in his heart he must do it for his child. For the first time in many weeks, he thought of Caroline, who for all her faults, was no doubt perplexed at his lack of interest in her. He swore to himself that he would make an effort to be a husband to her, and he prayed to God for the strength to do it.

He walked slowly back to the house, oblivious to the wind that whipped at his back. Tonight, somehow, he would attempt to give his wife the attention she deserved. If he found himself incapable of performing in the bedroom, he would at least try to give her some pleasure in his company.

It is time to get on with it, he thought. I am a husband, soon to be a father. No doubt Geoffrey will soon regret ever having met me; I will not inflict the same fate on Caroline.

Chapter 35

It was to Alex Clifton's credit that, after making discreet inquiries as to Geoffrey's whereabouts, he was able to secure him an excellent situation in Yorkshire, a distance far enough from Hertfordshire to ensure that the young man would no longer be subject to his father's fury or present a continuing temptation to Alex himself. Geoffrey remained in Yorkshire two years, then grew restless and left, leaving no word as to his destination. Alex hoped, rather than believed, that Geoffrey would be able to find some sort of personal happiness. They were of the same breed, he and Geoffrey, and Alex knew happiness for their kind was at best fleeting and always elusive.

Alex was true to his resolve to be more of a husband to Caroline. The very night that Geoffrey left, he went to Caroline's bedchamber, where, fortified with a combination of spirits and fanciful thought, he was able to complete the act of love with her once more. In the darkness she would never be Caroline, but always Charles. It was in the light of day that his pain became unbearable, because he would never know the joys of everyday life with his beloved. To even contemplate the possibility of two men living together openly as loving companions was ludicrous beyond belief! Such an arrangement could never be countenanced, as it was an affront to the laws of both God and society.

So Alex was forced to relegate even his fantasies of Charles Bingley to the exclusive realm of sexuality. It was his deepest, most cherished secret, let loose only in the dark of night, and put firmly back in its place when morning had broken.

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The Christmas season at Pemberley was joyous and magical. Elizabeth and Darcy could not help but think of their own babe, due in less than three months, as they celebrated the birth of the Christ Child.

Their lovemaking was as frequent as ever, if somewhat more awkward due to Elizabeth's ever-increasing size. Afterwards, Darcy would most often lie awake, his heart so filled with anticipation that he could not sleep. He resisted the impulse to awaken his wife just so he could hear the sound of her voice. Darcy had always been a worrier, and concern for Elizabeth's well-being and that of their unborn child occupied his thoughts constantly. Life had never been so perfect, and he still feared that at any moment, it might all disappear. His mother's health, he remembered, had deteriorated when she bore Georgiana, and soon after, she was gone forever. He could not bear such grief again.

These were thoughts he would never share with Elizabeth. Her own mother had given birth five times, in rapid succession, her only travail that none of the resultant offspring were male! It was most likely, he reassured himself, that Elizabeth had inherited her mother's capacity for easy delivery and rapid recovery. (And, most fortunately, had not inherited her mother's silliness and easily frazzled nerves!)

On Christmas Eve, Darcy sat at the head of the long dining table at Pemberley, looking down its length at all those dearest to him. Elizabeth sat to his right, her hand resting on his knee, Georgiana to his left. Mr. and Mrs. Bennet, Mary, Kitty and Lydia sat on one side of the table, Charles and Jane Bingley and Alex and Caroline Clifton on the other. Jane held little Charles in her lap.

Next Christmas, Darcy thought proudly, with the grace of God, my own little daughter will be in my arms. He remained utterly convinced that the baby would be a girl, and that she would resemble Elizabeth.

As dinner was served and cups of punch were raised to toast the occasion, Darcy could not help but steal a glance at Alex and Caroline. He had been most pleased at Alex's announcement of their expected child, believing it would give his friend purpose. Caroline seemed happier now, he thought, than before she married. Perhaps expectant motherhood had softened her? Alex, he noted, stoically avoided any private contact with Charles Bingley, and he admired him for it. Alex's secret was one which Darcy would never reveal to anyone, not even Elizabeth, to whom he confided everything else.

Elizabeth tired easily these days, and Darcy politely excused himself to his guests before ten so that he and Elizabeth might retire for the evening. Elizabeth chided him, insisting he should remain in the parlour with his guests, but he steadfastly refused.

"Really, Lizzy," he whispered as they mounted the stairs. "Did you think I would allow my wife to sleep alone on Christmas Eve?"

She smiled, remembering that now legendary night in Hertfordshire when he had arrived at Longbourn to "collect his wife." Since that evening, they had shared a bed each and every night.

Elizabeth sighed and wrapped her arms around Darcy's waist as they reached the top of the stairs. She looked up at him, happy tears in her eyes.

"Thank you, Fitzwilliam."

"For...?"

"Being so insistent."

He bent down to kiss her, then carefully lifted her into his arms.

"Off to bed with you now, little mama," he said.

Elizabeth had no need for her maid that Christmas Eve, as it was her husband who carefully removed her soft burgundy velvet dress and chemise. He lay her gently down on the bed, a down pillow cushioning her head, then knelt at her feet to remove her slippers and roll down her stockings, as she was quite incapable of bending forward to do so herself.

"So beautiful," he whispered, spreading her legs apart to kiss the insides of her knees, then working his way up the soft flesh of her thighs. His hands stroking her swollen belly, wherein lay his unborn child, he pleasured her with slow strokes of his tongue until she called out his name, begging to have him inside her.

"Not yet, Lizzy, not yet. The taste of you is too sweet," he responded, putting his tongue to work with renewed enthusiasm. When finally he spread her nether lips with his thumbs and slid his tongue inside her, Elizabeth reached down to place her hands on his shoulders, desperately trying to pull him atop her.

"No, Lizzy, not like that," he said, standing and placing another pillow under her bottom, then lifting her legs up and around his waist. He quickly let down the fall of his breeches and thrust into her, taking care to keep the bulk of his weight off her. He was so aroused, and Elizabeth so warm and tight around him, that he could not hold back. She had already been at the edge when he entered her, and easily took her pleasure along with him.

It was a cold night and Darcy stoked the fire before undressing and getting into bed next to Elizabeth. He kissed his wife and then, as had become his custom, he placed his lips on her belly and kissed his daughter.

"She kicked me!" he exclaimed, as he settled Elizabeth into his arms to sleep.

"Is it any wonder, Sir? You insisted you were taking me upstairs to rest, and rest, it seems, was the last thing on your mind!"

"Will you ever stop teasing me, Lizzy?"

"Never! Do you want me to stop?"

He grinned in the darkness.

"Absolutely not!"


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On Christmas morning, Elizabeth awakened with a start at half past eight o-clock, an hour later than was customary for her. Darcy had already arisen, and he stood across the room, looking out the window. Elizabeth, feeling chilled, sat up and pulled the coverlet tightly around herself, admiring her husband's manly form, displayed most becomingly in his deep blue jacquard dressing gown.

Darcy sensed her eyes upon his back and turned around, a faraway expression in his eyes.

He quickly recovered himself from his reverie and said "Happy Christmas, my love."

Elizabeth extended her arms to him.

"Come! Why do you look so somber on this joyous day, Fitzwilliam?" she asked.

He hesitated. How well his wife knew his moods!

"I was recalling Christmas last," he replied, "so far from home. A most unhappy time in my life. I thought...I thought I had lost everything."

He sat on the bed next to Elizabeth, and she put her arms around him.

She smiled and kissed him. Sometimes he worried her so, recalling the past with such melancholy.

"You must learn to adopt some of my philosophy, William. Think only of the past as it gives you pleasure."

"There was no pleasure then, Elizabeth. None at all."

"None at all, you say. Hmm...let us see. With whom did you spend Christmas Day last year, Fitzwilliam?"

"With Georgiana, as you are well aware."

"And you took no pleasure in her company?"

"I...of course I did. You know how fond I am of my sister! We were in Rome, both of us keenly missing our traditional English Christmas, but the Italians make quite an occasion of it, and..."

He stopped speaking abruptly at her triumphant smile.

"There!" she said. "You have recalled something of last Christmas with pleasure, have you not?"

"I see," he said, somewhat disgruntled. "You have made your point."

She began to laugh.

"And now you are laughing at me!" he exclaimed, but Elizabeth noted the beginnings of a smile on his lips, try as he might to suppress it.

"I adore you, Fitzwilliam. I am with you this Christmas, as I will be every Christmas hereafter. And when we go downstairs to breakfast and you are witness to the particular kind of chaos that accompanies a Christmas celebrated by the Bennets, you may well long for the relative peace and solitude of last year!"

"I think not, Lizzy. I might well long for a Christmas celebrated with none other, save my wife! But alone? Never!"

"We are at leisure to celebrate alone now, William. For a short time, at least," she said, reclining seductively on the pillow.

"Whatever is your meaning, Elizabeth?" he asked innocently, but he began to untie the sash of his dressing gown as he spoke.

"Come under the coverlet with me and I will show you," she answered. Darcy obeyed unquestioningly.

The beautiful vision of his beloved wife astride him, her body soft and pink and ripe with impending motherhood, touched something deep inside him. His eyes closed, Darcy surrendered to her desire, accepting the precious gift his Elizabeth offered him this blessed Christmas morning.


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Caroline Clifton shook her husband awake.

"Alex! Alex, let us dress and go downstairs. I am famished!"

Alex awakened reluctantly. He had been having a most pleasant dream and had not wanted it to end.

"Happy Christmas, Caroline," he said, remembering the day. He waited for his wife to exit the bed first so that he might wrap his dressing gown around himself before she noticed the state of arousal occasioned by his dream.

He rummaged in his trunk to find the box containing Caroline's Christmas present.

"Caroline," he asked suspiciously. "Were you searching in my trunk? This box is most definitely not where I placed it last night."

Caroline, now half dressed, blushed in a manner that was almost endearing.

"Yes, Alex, I confess I was. I know it was rather childish, but I was worried that perhaps...well, I do have something for you, and I did not want to present it to you unless you had something for me."

"What is your meaning, Caroline?"

"Never mind, Alex. I am fully aware that ours is not the sort of marriage that lends itself to sentimental expression."

Alex was stricken at the implication.

"Caroline," he said slowly. "Did you truly believe I would not have a Christmas present for my wife?"

She would not look at him.

"I was unsure, that is all."

He put his hand under her chin, forcing her to meet his eyes.

"Caroline, whatever my shortcomings as a husband, and I know there are many, be assured I will always treat you with respect and give you everything that is your due as my wife."

She nodded. Everything except your heart, she thought.

He leaned down and softly kissed her lips, then handed her the velvet box.

"Might I assume you already know what is inside?" he asked drily.

"Well, yes," she admitted with a slight smile. "And they are lovely," she said, taking the strand of lustrous pearls from the box.

"May I?" he asked, taking them from her hand and standing behind her to fasten them around her neck. On impulse, because she seemed so uncharacteristically vulnerable this morning, he kissed the back of her neck when he was done.

And perhaps because he felt an unfamiliar tenderness for her, or because it was Christmas morning, or because he had not yet fully recovered from the physical effects of his dream...or perhaps because of a combination of all these circumstances, Alex Clifton was able to make love to his wife Caroline face to face, and for the first time, the spectre of Charles Bingley was nowhere to be found in their bedchamber.

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Annabelle Elizabeth Darcy was born in March, precisely nine months after her parents' marriage, and Robert Charles Clifton in mid-April, less than eight months after Alex and Caroline's September wedding. Some eyebrows were raised at the timing of the birth and Charles Bingley briefly contemplated questioning his brother-in-law about it, but was dissuaded by Jane, who rightly pointed out that his sister was well married with all claims to respectability. Most importantly, Caroline appeared content with her situation in life. She occupied herself with her estate and her son, and if her marriage lacked something in passion, there grew a degree of respect and companionship between herself and Alex that was agreeable to both. That is not to say that their marriage was sexless, but Caroline always sensed that Alex's thoughts, except on rare occasions, were somewhere else when his physical self was united with her own. She wisely chose to ignore it, a fortunate circumstance, as the truth would have been impossible for her to comprehend. Alex's deep, abiding love for Charles Bingley lasted until the end of his days, but he never again allowed that love to exceed the bonds of propriety and masculine friendship. As he grew older and his sexual needs became less urgent, he grew more content with Caroline and with his life in general. Charles was his dearest friend; Caroline his wife, with whom he found fault less and less as the years passed. If perhaps they not could love each other as completely as a husband and wife should, they could bestow their love unconditionally on their children, and each receive it back, in a roundabout manner, from the other through those children. It was not perfect, but it was enough for them, and they were content with it.

It was because of his marriage, Alex Clifton reasoned, that he was able to find true happiness finally in his role as a father. For that, at least, he would always be grateful to Caroline. At long last he was able to love two other people, not only deeply, but openly, with society's approbation. Caroline, to the surprise of all, was a devoted, if rather skittish, mother. It was Alex who was the calming influence, Alex to whom little Robert, and later Clarissa, came for comfort for a skinned knee or bad dreams. Alex was gentle, patient and kind, and as his children grew older, always listened to them closely and counselled them wisely.

And perhaps most poignantly, having been forced to conceal his true nature for all his life, he always encouraged them to pursue their fondest dreams and please themselves before all others. The result of this encouragement was that both Robert and Clarissa, while respectable and all that was good and admired, were free thinkers and, in some ways, non-conformists. Clarissa, in addition to marrying and bearing three children, became a writer of no small renown in literary circles and Robert a noted reformer in the House of Commons, and Alex was prodigiously proud of both of them. It was of great comfort to him that something wonderful had been made possible by his own denial of his most basic nature, even though it was often at the cost of his personal happiness. If in some ways he found vicarious fulfillment through the achievements of his children, it was far preferable to the lonely and dangerous life he might have led otherwise.

Such was the fate that befell Geoffrey King, his former lover. He had left Yorkshire for London, where he met an untimely end after a confrontation with a group of sailors. Large quantities of spirits were consumed, and accusations of deviant behaviour were made and vehemently denied. Despite those denials, Geoffrey was found early next morning in the narrow alley behind a tavern in a disreputable section of London, beaten to death. He was but 25 years old. When Alex heard of his death, he retired to his library, closed the door, and sobbed soundlessly into his folded arms.

There but for the grace of God goeth I. May the Lord have mercy on his soul.

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Little Annabelle Darcy, a mirror image of her mother, was the light of her papa's life. Perhaps because of the circumstances surrounding her conception, she was an avid horsewoman, riding fearlessly from the age of 3. The Darcy family grew rapidly, Annabelle being followed by twin brothers Bennet and Benjamin Darcy, then two sisters and a brother. Georgiana Darcy married a sea captain, Martin Prentice, and after ten years of marriage bore her only child, a daughter, Anne. The Prentice family spent as much time at Pemberley as they did at their own home in Kent, because Anne was happiest when in the company of her Darcy cousins.

Jane and Charles Bingley had five sons, the youngest, Thomas, born when little Charles was ten. They were five tow-headed angels, all as even tempered and as fair of face as their parents. They had their scrapes, of course, as boys do, but in general, Netherfield was calmer and quieter than one would expect of a house that held five growing boys!

The Darcy children, in contrast, were a rollicking group, despite their father's reserved demeanour. Like their mother, they were excellent walkers...or, more accurately, runners...and their footsteps echoed throughout the halls of Pemberley. That elegant estate, once so placid and pristinely clean, was filled with childish laughter and strewn with toys and muddy riding boots until the old housekeeper, Mrs. Reynolds, threatened to thrash the lot of them. She loved them all as dearly as she did their father and Aunt Georgiana, and they knew her threats were empty ones, but they obeyed her nonetheless. When the children were old enough to understand, their grandfather delighted in telling them the story of the night their serious papa had ridden from Aunt Jane's house at Netherfield to Longbourn to "collect their mama." It was one of those stories that seemed to grow in detail and outlandishness each time it was told! Darcy was tolerant of his aging father-in-law's mischievious nature and, ever practical, he soon learned to utilize the time his unwieldy brood was thus occupied to steal an hour's interlude in his bedchamber with his wife. It was, in fact, as the result of one of those interludes that the seventh and final Darcy child, another son, was born, on Darcy's forty-ninth birthday. Annabelle was then 19 and engaged to be married to John (Jack) Fitzwilliam, son of Darcy's cousin Richard.

Robert Clifton was married at the age of 30 to a woman some eight years younger than himself. His wife was not conventionally beautiful, but she had a presence and demeanour that attracted attention wherever she went. She was highly intelligent, outspoken (sometimes to a fault!) and good-hearted, all qualities that served her well as she worked tirelessly alongside her husband for social reform. Her kind nature and sense of whimsy made her an excellent mother to their four children and there was a mischievious sparkle in her warm brown eyes that never dimmed, even as she grew older.

Her maiden name had been Frances Jane Darcy, and she was the fifth of seven children born to Fitzwilliam and Elizabeth Darcy of Pemberley.

And so finally, through her grandchildren, Caroline Bingley Clifton had that elusive Darcy connection!

"FINIS"

Well, it's over! Is it "happily ever after" or "as happy as possible under the circumstances?"

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