To Conquer Mr. Darcy

by Abigail Reynolds

  “Elizabeth,” he groaned. “Merciful God, please stop me, Elizabeth!” He did not know whether he hoped that she would heed him or that she would not.

  A debilitating sensation of longing ran through her as she took his meaning, and she wanted nothing more than for him to slake the desires that were racing through her, but she heard the desperation in his voice, and somehow was able to force herself to return to her senses. It was almost a physical blow to him as she moved out of his arms and away from him, straightening her gown with embarrassment, her body still trembling with the desires he had roused in her.

  His arms felt bereft without her. He closed his eyes for a moment, struggling to regain command of himself. Looking into her lovely, passion-filled eyes, eyes he could easily drown in, he said incoherently, “God in heaven, Elizabeth, I never meant to let it go that far.” The remorse in his voice was unmistakable

  “I…” she said, her mouth dry, shocked both by what had almost happened, and by how much she still wished that it had. She closed her eyes and took several deep breaths until she felt a modicum of calm within her. “I know you did not, nor did I, and perhaps it is best to leave it at that.”

  “As you wish,” he said almost automatically, then added, “Elizabeth, I have always prided myself on my self-control, but the moment I am near you, one glance from you and it all vanishes as if it had never existed.”

  Elizabeth’s mouth curved in an amused smile. “It is a good thing, then, that we plan to marry!”

  He was momentarily taken aback by her humor, then saw the value of it. “Indeed, madam, it is a very good thing.” He forced himself to stand and to ring for a servant. “I shall have someone show you to your room. I dare not take you there myself at the moment,” he said dryly.

  “I think that is wise.”

  A young woman came to the door and bobbed a curtsey. Darcy said, “Please show Miss Bennet to her room, Nan.”

  “Yes, sir,” she responded. “Right this way, miss.”

  “Miss Bennet,” he said as she was walking out the door. When she turned to look at him, he added, “I am pleased to have you here.”

  She gave him an impish smile. “Thank you, sir. I had somehow managed to receive that impression already. Until later, then, Mr. Darcy.”

  * * *

  It took Elizabeth some time to restore her fraught spirits to their normal state after her encounter with Darcy. She could not believe it; she had been at Pemberley not even an hour, and already matters with him were running out of her control. Her vulnerability to him had not lessened with time or distance—if anything, it had increased. How was she to retain any sense of herself when her attraction to him ran unchecked? She needed to recall that despite their obvious physical compatibility, they were prone to virulent disagreements in other areas. It was critical that she retain her independence, or she would find herself being dominated by his forceful personality in all regards. She needed to retain more of a reserve with him, and to keep in the forefront of her mind that her response to his touch need not govern her behavior toward him. How to balance this restraint with her love for him and their eventual marriage was more confusing; now that they were engaged, she could no longer reasonably draw back from him or refuse to be alone with him as she had in the past. She vowed to herself she would find a way, and thus fortified in spirit and resolve, she felt at least capable of rejoining the others.

  On her return downstairs, she was met by Georgiana, who informed her that there would be time to take a tour of the house before dinner if she so desired. In easy agreement with the idea, the Gardiners joined them as well. They found Darcy ensconced in his study where he was engaging himself in some business to take his mind from thoughts that were best suppressed. Elizabeth surprised herself by blushing when she saw him, and having some difficulty meeting his eyes, but fortunately the tour offered her sources of neutral conversation to help her past her initial embarrassment.

  Elizabeth took great pleasure in discovering the admirable taste of her future husband as she viewed his home. The rooms were lofty and handsome, and their furniture suitable to the fortune of their proprietor, but they were neither gaudy nor uselessly fine, with less of splendor and more real elegance than the furniture of Rosings. She was delighted to discover that from every window there were beauties of nature to be seen. Every disposition of the ground was good; the hill, crowned with wood, from which they had descended, receiving increased abruptness from the distance, was a beautiful object. She looked on the whole scene, the river, the trees scattered on its banks, and the winding of the valley, as far as she could trace it, with delight. She could not have been better pleased, and could barely credit that she would someday be mistress of all this.

  She was interested to notice that Darcy, in his interactions with the servants, showed none of the pride or reserve that she had observed at Netherfield, and seemed overall to be of a gentler disposition than had been the case in the past. Never in her life had she seen his manners so little dignified, and when he introduced her to his housekeeper, a respectable-looking, elderly woman by the name of Mrs. Reynolds, the affection between the two was apparent. His attentions to her aunt and uncle were all that was civil, and they clearly enjoyed his conversation. All in all, she felt that she had never before been so pleased with his behavior in company. She hardly knew what to make of the change, which made it all the more difficult to maintain her reserve as she tried to demonstrate her pleasure in his conduct through the warmth of her manner.

  After dinner Darcy suggested a twilight stroll through the gardens, an idea that appealed to Elizabeth very much. She had seen enough of the beauty of the park through the windows to make her anxious for a chance to explore it, but she was willing to settle for the gardens for today. The Gardiners and Georgiana considerately declined the invitation, so the two set off on their own. Elizabeth was of two minds about being alone with him again, finding that she both desired and feared it.

  “So, what think you of Pemberley, my love?” he asked.

  “It is everything that is delightful and charming, and lives up to all the praise it has received. I cannot make a single complaint so far,” she said warmly.

  “Then it pleases you? Will you be content to live here?” There was a certain eagerness in his voice, like a little boy anxious to please.

  She was tempted to make a teasing response, but a look at his face suggested that this was not the moment for it. “I believe that I shall be very happy here, provided, of course, that you are here as well.”

  His look of satisfaction showed how well her words had pleased him, and she was glad to have discovered an indirect means to indicate her affection, since she could not yet feel comfortable expressing open affection and using endearments as he did. “I believe, my love, that it will be difficult to tear me from your side once we are married. That reminds me, however, that we do have an obligation to discuss our wedding plans.”

  Elizabeth laughed. “Well, we can discuss them all you please, but I have a suspicion that I have ceded all of my choices by leaving for a month immediately after becoming engaged. My mother will no doubt have everything arranged to her satisfaction by the time I return. At least I had a say in choosing the bridegroom!”

  Darcy looked in doubt as to how seriously he should take her remarks; clearly there was little he would not put past Mrs. Bennet. To relieve his uncertainty, she added, “Do you have particular thoughts about the wedding?” She found that she still was not quite prepared to say ‘our wedding.’

  “Bingley suggested to me that we consider a double ceremony, which seems a pleasant notion, and would certainly save a good deal of work,” —not to mention making the occasion a good deal sooner than it would otherwise be,— “if you do not think six weeks too soon.” It was far longer than he would like.

  Six weeks! Elizabeth thought. I am still having trouble believing that I am marrying at all, though after what happened today, it is perhaps best not to wait too long. She tried t
o imagine walking these paths in six weeks as the Mistress of Pemberley, and failed completely. “I suppose it would make sense to do so, if you are willing. I could write to Jane to suggest it, and if she is agreeable, she could propose it to my mother.”

  “Unless your mother has already decided on it by herself,” he said, with just a hint of a smile. Reaching over, he tidied a tendril of her hair that had come loose. “I am not certain I wish to spend time among the gossiping people of Meryton at the moment. I fear that I am not forgiving toward people who try to hurt you, my love.”

  She looked up at him affectionately. “I would imagine not. Your sense of loyalty is something I have always admired, even when I disliked you—or perhaps, in the interest of marital felicity, I should say ‘before I realized that I liked you.’”

  “I think I would prefer that,” he said in a teasing manner, “but so long as you do not change your mind again, you may say whatever you like.”

  “Though we both have reason to think my opinions not entirely unalterable, they are not, I hope, as easily changed as that implies.”

  “I believe you; but then again, I know what it took to change your mind the first time. I am glad not to have to do that again.”

  She glanced up at him flirtatiously. “It seemed to me that there were at least a few moments along the way that you enjoyed. Some of your, umm, arguments were quite persuasive.”

  “I will not deny that I enjoy… persuading you,” he said, his gaze intent, but then he seemed to withdraw for a moment. He had spent a good deal of time since that afternoon establishing strict criteria for his behavior with her. His loss of control earlier had shaken his faith in himself. “Elizabeth,” he added, his voice serious.

  “Yes?”

  He chose his words carefully. “You would perhaps be wise not to offer me any encouragement during your stay here.”

  She was initially puzzled by his words, but as she took his meaning, her cheeks flushed with shame. She was under no illusion that her behavior earlier in response to his kisses had been anything but discreditable, but had been of the opinion he was pleased by it; certainly it had seemed as if he had encouraged it, on this as on past occasions. Apparently, though, he had different standards for propriety at Pemberley, where he had an image to uphold—or perhaps it was lingering doubts from the rumors in Hertfordshire—and obviously felt she had failed to take responsibility for preventing such occurrences. She felt ill even thinking of it—well, she decided, if he wants proper behavior from me, he will certainly get it now. She did not think she could bear to have him touch her, knowing what he thought of her.

  She had her pride as well, though, and straightened her shoulders before she spoke. “Very well, sir; you shall have no cause for concern, I assure you,” she said in a voice well suited for a social occasion. Why, why, why do I keep letting down my defenses to him? I cannot believe that I have allowed this to happen again. She could feel the first stirrings of anger at him, but knew she must protect against that as well.

  He smiled, unnoticed by Elizabeth whose eyes were fixed firmly ahead, and said, “I appreciate it.”

  “Mr. Darcy, I find that I am feeling somewhat fatigued. Perhaps we could return to the house?” She wanted nothing more at the moment than to escape his presence and the utter humiliation she felt at his rebuke.

  His brow furrowed in concern. He had never heard her complain of fatigue on a walk before, certainly not on such a short one; perhaps she might be falling ill. He took her hand in his and asked, “Are you well, my love?” He was startled when she pulled her hand away, rather ungently, he thought. “What is the matter?”

  The temptation to make an angry response was great, but Elizabeth forced herself to remain cognizant of the need for her to learn the arts of compromise and peacemaking. She took a deep breath to calm herself, then said, “I am not pleased by your implication that I am at fault for encouraging you.”

  Darcy looked at her in bewilderment. How had she come upon the idea that he was criticizing her? Aware that their disagreements had a tendency toward escalation, he sought to find common ground. “I fear that we have somehow misunderstood one another, then, since I did not intend to make any such implication, and it would be unjust if I did.”

  Unsure whether to believe him, she asked, “May I ask, then, what you did intend to say?”

  It was his turn to look away, his cheeks tinged with red. “My intention was to ask your assistance in curbing my behavior lest it become out of hand.”

  “Oh.” Elizabeth’s color rose. “I did misunderstand you, then. My apologies, sir.”

  “What did you think I meant?”

  “I… assumed that you disapproved of my behavior.”

  “Elizabeth, the next time you believe that I disapprove of something you have done, please ask me, because I assure you it is unlikely to be true. In this case, you have touched on something of which I am so far from disapproving as to be somewhat of an embarrassment, so please, do not trouble yourself.”

  She could think of nothing to say to that, and so kept her peace.

  “One of the advantages of being at Pemberley,” he said, leading her around a corner into a walled formal garden, “is that here I am aware of all the pleasantly secluded locations where one is unlikely to be interrupted.”

  Elizabeth raised an eyebrow. “And how precisely do you propose that I help you curb your behavior? Perhaps you could be so kind as to lend me a pistol for the duration of my stay, though I should need some instruction in its use.”

  He smiled at her roguishly. “Perhaps you could forget that I ever made such a foolish suggestion.”

  “Mr. Darcy, I am hardly that forgetful!” she replied in mock disapproval. She felt her lips tingle in anticipation as he drew her into his arms.

  “But please remember this: discovering that you are so responsive to me was a most delightful surprise. Pray do not ever change it.”

  She gave him a challenging smile. “In that case, sir, are you planning to converse with me or to kiss me?”

  Darcy made the only possible reply.

  * * *

  The next few days afforded Elizabeth the opportunity to acquaint herself further with Pemberley and its environs. She immediately fell in love with the park and grounds, and never tired of walking out to discover new delights, either with her aunt and uncle or with her decidedly amorous betrothed. They visited some of the finer sights of the area, and Elizabeth began her acquaintance with the town of Lambton where her aunt had spent her youth.

  More importantly, the time gave her an opportunity to observe Darcy, and she rapidly reached the conclusion that he was a different man when he was at Pemberley. Gone were the pride and distance that she had once thought his main characteristics, and in their place, she saw more of the relaxed, warm, and appealing man she had glimpsed when alone with him in Hertfordshire. His actions were caring and concerned, his generosity obvious—and clearly a byword with his staff—and his civility warming. She was hard put to explain to her aunt and uncle why she ever had a negative impression of him. The difference astonished and fascinated her, and she thought more than once that, had she met Darcy first at Pemberley, they would have reached an understanding earlier and with far less difficulty than they had.

  She commented on it once to Darcy when they were alone. He responded, “This is where I am at home; I am never so comfortable as when I am at Pemberley. Here I know everyone I see, and they know me, and we both know what to expect of each other. I have never been at ease among those I do not know well.”

  “But you know Bingley and his family well; why would you be ill at ease at Netherfield?”

  He looked surprised that she need ask the question. “I did not know the servants, nor the neighbors, and I knew that they were all drawing opinions of me. I dislike the feeling. Here I know what people think of me, and I know that their opinion is unlikely to change if I should make a mistake or accidentally offend someone.”

  “And what do
people think of you here?” she asked with a smile.

  He put his arms around her. “They think I am the Master of Pemberley, and when they discover that you are to be my wife, they will think me the luckiest man alive,” he said, and kissed her with such passion that the subject was dropped for some time.

  Darcy was also well pleased by the constant presence of Elizabeth. Knowing he would see her frequently each day, if not spend the entire day with her, put him in high spirits, and her gradually increasing comfort with him added to his delight. After their conversation on the first day of her visit, he found it easier to maintain his self-control with her, and enjoyed each and every opportunity they had to explore the pleasure they could give one another without feeling the acute hunger for more than he could have.

  His nights were a different matter. The days between their engagement and Elizabeth’s arrival at Pemberley had afforded him his first good nights of sleep since he had met her. It was an unpleasant surprise to discover that her visit brought a return of his sleepless nights, though for a very different reason. His daytime ease in her presence disappeared once she retired for the night, and he became painfully aware not only of her absence, but also of the permeability of the barriers that stood between them. His imagination presented to him the picture of that of which he was deprived, and the image of Elizabeth, dressed in nothing but a nightgown, with her hair loose upon her shoulders and an inviting smile on her lovely face haunted him. The knowledge that this temptation resided under his roof with only a few feet of hall and a door between them did not leave him for a moment, and for the only time in their acquaintance, he had moments of wishing she were not quite so passionate in her responses to him, so that he could be more certain she would throw him out in disgrace if he ever tried to breach that one barrier. Unfortunately, he knew from experience that it was possible for him to take advantage of her responsiveness to go further than she might choose at a saner moment, and his imagination ran wild with ideas of what might happen if he found his way into her bedroom. He knew himself well enough to be certain he would not act on his impulses, but the mere presence of the possibility kept sleep at bay until late into the night.