by Jane Hunter
“Lizzie!”
Elizabeth gasped and pulled away from Mr. Darcy’s kiss, desperately trying to put an acceptable distance between them. She rubbed her hand across her lips, tingling and hot with the sensation of his mouth on hers. Her cheeks burned with shame that she had allowed her emotions to overtake her.
“Lizzie!” Mrs. Gardiner appeared at the bottom of the stairs. “Ah, Mr. Darcy, I beg your pardon, but I must speak to my niece.” She turned to Elizabeth; her eyes shining with unshed tears. “A letter has come urgently from Longbourn... I beg you to read it in private.” The seal on the letter held in her aunt’s outstretched hand had been broken and Elizabeth took it with shaking fingers.
“Mr. Darcy,” she said, her voice shaking. “If you will excuse me...” She turned and fled from his sight, rushing up the stairs to her chamber. She flung the door wide and paused, looking over her shoulder to where Mr. Darcy stood on the stairs. His hand, the one that had held hers so gently, rested on the banister as he stared up at her. She could only bear his gaze for an instant before she wrenched her eyes away from his and hurried inside her room, closing the door behind her.
Her hands fumbled with the letter, opening it hurriedly. The words that had been written upon the parchment were splotchy and ink had spattered lightly as though whoever had written them had been in a great hurry.
The handwriting belonged to Jane, and Elizabeth realized with a start that her sister’s falling tears had caused the splotched ink. And as she read, tears began to course down her own cheeks.
“Lydia,” she murmured, choking on a sob as she began to understand what had happened. That Lydia had disappeared from her chambers in Brighton, right out from under the watchful eye of Colonel Forster... and worse, that she had taken flight with Mr. Wickham. Elizabeth suspected immediately that Mrs. Forster was behind whatever had happened, and the rush of horror at what Lydia had done left her shoulders heaving as waves of desperation washed over her.
What would they do?
The scandal would taint them all...
“Oh, Lydia,” Elizabeth said aloud, covering her mouth against her furious sobs.
“Miss Elizabeth,” a voice came from behind her once more, and Elizabeth spun around, dropping Jane’s letter to the floor. Mr. Darcy stood in the doorway, his hand resting lightly on the wood. “I apologize for intruding, but I could not stand blithely by while you were suffering. Please... tell me what can be done. Allow me to make things right.”
Tears dripped down Elizabeth’s cheeks as she spread her hands in desperation. “I do not know if anything can be set right ever again. My sister... Lydia... she has done the unthinkable. She has run away with Mr. Wickham!” Her shoulders shook as she covered her face with her hands.
All at once, she felt strong arms encircle her; Mr. Darcy had closed the distance between them in the blink of an eye. He pulled her against his chest, and Elizabeth felt herself relaxing against him, giving in to her sorrow and anger. Mr. Darcy held her gently, not speaking or trying to stop her tears and Elizabeth was grateful for his comfort.
She could feel the warmth of his hands through the thin muslin of her dress, and she could hear the thudding of his heart in his chest. At that moment, Elizabeth realized that she was facing the very same choice that Lydia must have. To give in to her desires, to give in to her sorrow while her heart was weak.
She pulled back from Mr. Darcy’s embrace, trying to regain control of herself, but Mr. Darcy’s fingers were on her chin, tilting her head up so that her lips met his once more. She tried to resist him, but the press of his mouth on hers was too sweet to deny, and she sagged against him, pouring all of her sorrow and passion into her kiss, matching him for intensity as his mouth devoured hers.
Mr. Darcy’s hands rubbed along her arms soothingly, his touch making her shiver. She gasped against his mouth, wanting more from their kiss, more from their embrace. The promise of everything she had seen in her dream.
Carefully he moved a hand to her waist, tugging her in the direction of the bed, pulling her into him tighter as his fingers wandered to the ribbons that held her dress in place. With a soft moan, Elizabeth allowed him to pluck the knots free, loosening the neckline of her gown. As their kiss broke, and Elizabeth moistened her swollen lips, Mr. Darcy’s hands smoothed over her shoulders, pulling her gown down to expose her full breasts and pale skin. Elizabeth’s heart thundered in her chest as her dress fell away, pooling around her feet. She thrilled as she heard Mr. Darcy’s breath catch in his throat, and he struggled to remove his own clothes so that he could be as naked as she.
When he stood before her, dressed only in his desire for her, he bent his head to kiss her gently. Winding her arms around his neck, Elizabeth gave him the answer to the question he asked with the press of his lips. She felt the edge of the bed against the back of her knees, and they clambered upon the coverlet together, each stealing breath from the other as their desperate kisses reached a new fervor.
Lying back against the pillows, with Mr. Darcy above her, she shuddered when she felt his fingers running across the curve of her stomach. Her body was his for the taking, and she wanted to give in and forget everything that had happened. To allow him to take away every hurt with each press of his lips.
A moan slipped past her lips and her flesh tingled with desire from his closeness, and from the feeling of his lips as they burned a hot trail down her neck to her collarbone.
Her eyelids fluttered as her chest rose and fell with rapid breaths, she could feel a warmth beginning to spread from her stomach and up through her chest, little fires igniting along her skin everywhere Mr. Darcy’s fingers touched. Across her breasts, hardening her nipples, over her stomach and thighs...
The summer breeze coming through the open chamber window caressed her exposed flesh, heating her even more, and Mr. Darcy stole her breath when his large palms engulfed her breasts completely, her curves a perfect fit for his hands.
His thumbs teased at the peaks as she arched her back, and stretched her arms up to loop them around his neck. He kissed her deeply again, swallowing her whimpers.
She felt dizzy, her whole body searing with arousal as his lips massaged hers with firm determination. A disappointed moan slipped her trembling lips when he left her mouth and he chuckled against her throat where he licked on her fervent skin.
“Elizabeth,” he said finally, his voice thick with desire, and she tensed from the sound of her name on his lips, a mix of shock and desire flooding her body and pooling between her thighs.
She was barely able to breathe, yet alone respond as her heart pounded wildly. The groan that emanated from his lips as she arched towards him again made her ache with a need she had only experienced in her wildest, most private dreams, and her body begged for his touch. Begged for the sensations she had experienced to be made real.
Meeting his heated gaze sent a wave of heat down her entire body. She bit down on her lip, sending a yearning gaze towards him.
Slowly he ran his fingers down her thighs, parting them slightly as he pressed his hand against her heated center.
A moan trembled in her throat and she blushed at the sound.
But Darcy was encouraged by her shyness, placing soft kisses on her mouth and neck as he pushed his fingers gently inside her, his made easy by the slickness of her arousal.
He chuckled and leaned his body against hers, “You are beautiful. My Elizabeth,” he murmured against her lips. She opened her mouth under his, her hips rising slightly to welcome his fingers deeper. He groaned and rubbed his thumb against the center of her womanhood, tugging a gasp of pleasure and surprise from her lips.
“Please,” she whimpered, and Mr. Darcy smiled down at her as he moved his body between her thighs, their bodies flush, chest to chest, hips to hips.
She shivered beneath him but looked up into his eyes with passionate need. This time she kissed him first as he spread her delicate flesh with two fingers.
He moved forward gently, moving ca
refully as he breached just inside, letting her get used to the feeling of his girth before he pushed.
“Oh,” Elizabeth cried out as she buried her face against his shoulder as he stretched and stretched her. She gasped at the slight pain that his entry caused, but she barely noticed the burning sensation when he entered her fully and she gave herself over to the passion roiling within her, gasping as he settled his hips against hers.
The burning subsided and he kissed her gently as he began to move inside her. Slowly at first, but soon, encouraged by her desperate little pants the speed of his thrusts increased.
Abandoned in their joining, she clutched at him and couldn't imagine how this could be any better.
While soothing her with uncountable kisses laid upon her swollen lips, he worked a hand between and pressed against her secret womanhood.
The effect was immediate and Elizabeth felt a flush creeping up on her cheeks as the heat inside her intensified. Her small fingers made indents on his arms. Her lips opening as she moaned helplessly, eyes shutting tight.
She came undone beneath him in layers, first the heat in her cheeks and a shaking of her, then her muscles trembled beneath him and her thighs spread to let him sink deeper inside her with each thrust.
Just like in her dream, she felt the building of something exquisite inside her, something that overtook any other thought that had been in her mind. And when the wave of pleasure broke over her, the silken walls of her womanly portals tightened around him she cried out, eyes opened wide as bliss overtook her.
For a moment she saw nothing as the climax rocked through her. Darcy moved harder in her as she squeezed him, unable to stop himself from careening over the edge of his own pleasure as she quaked beneath him.
They lay together gasping, limbs sweetly entwined as Elizabeth shuddered with release. Darcy’s hot kisses upon her flesh brought her back to the room at the Lambton Inn, with her clothing lying discarded upon the floor and her hair disheveled beyond reasonable repair.
Tears filled her eyes as she realized that she had become as Lydia... undone by her own passions, carried away by lust and...
“Hush, hush now, my own Elizabeth,” Mr. Darcy cradled her face between his hands; pressing kisses to her parted lips. “There is no need for tears, I did not hurt you, did I?”
“No,” she said between kisses. “It is just...” She looked away, unable to bear the heat of his gaze.
“No more tears, please,” he said. He rolled to his side and pulled her against his chest. “I will make you this promise, here and now. I will find Mr. Wickham. I will find your sister. I should have warned you when he first arrived in Meryton.” Darcy shook his head ruefully, and Elizabeth saw that he carried guilt for his own part in the scandal that had befallen them. But that was not her only concern.
There was the matter of her own scandal... here she was, on the threshold of her own ruin, but nothing mattered except for the way that Mr. Darcy—William—was looking at her now.
“I will find your sister, I swear it to you,” he said, and the kiss pressed upon her lips was full of passion and promise, a promise that was more than the words that he had spoken. Elizabeth opened her mouth under his, hoping against every thought racing through her mind that Mr. Darcy would not only save Lydia from her scandal... but that he would also save her.
Elizabeth Bennet rubbed her hands over her tear streaked face. Her tea sat before her on the table, untouched. Mr. Darcy had left her soon after his promise to help find Lydia had been renewed. They had exchanged whispered words, words that Elizabeth would dare not repeat: that Mr. Darcy’s ardent love and admiration was returned a hundredfold, and that she never wished to be away from his side.
She had stayed in her chamber, taking supper in bed but touching none of it. Her hunger had been stolen by Lydia’s betrayal, and by the regret that now washed over her.
Now, as the light of dawn broke over the gardens of the Lambton Inn, Elizabeth was resolved that she would put everything that happened between her and Mr. Darcy behind her. That she would keep the secret of it, telling no one. She would deny anything and everything, and Mrs. Gardiner, and Jane… they would believe her.
She washed her face and dressed carefully, meeting her aunt in the breakfast room before taking a carriage with Mr. Gardiner to Pemberley.
Elizabeth went through their visit in a mist of distraction, listening with half of her attention as Georgiana Darcy took them through the Pemberley gardens and described her plans for the hedge maze in detail.
“Miss Darcy,” Mrs. Gardiner asked as they were walking back to the house to take luncheon. “Is Mr. Darcy at home? I should like to thank him again for his hospitality.”
Georgiana shook her head, “I am afraid that my brother was called away on business. He left early this morning.”
Elizabeth straightened her shoulders and rubbed her fingers across her lips, trying to banish the unbidden memory of Mr. Darcy’s kisses from her mind. She would remain resolved and let no hurt touch her. If Mr. Darcy did not want her, she would persevere.
He had promised to find Lydia, but while that was the only promise he had spoken aloud, it was not the only promise he had made.
* * *
...to be continued
Bonus Novelette ~ A Walk With Elizabeth
Longbourn, Hertfordshire
Fitzwilliam Darcy was in a foul mood, which was not the norm for him. Yes, there were often times that his friend, Charles Bingley, would remark upon his sullen attitudes, but he was really lost in thought, or had nothing to say at the time. Fitzwilliam Darcy was a man of few words, but those words he did choose to speak were the product of a great deal of consideration and, like his praise and good opinion, were not bestowed lightly.
As he walked towards Longbourn, he was a man at war. At was with his better judgment, with his practical mind... but most importantly, he was a man at war with his heart. Elizabeth Bennet, the handsomest and most accomplished woman of his acquaintance had rejected his proposal... Most vehemently if he could admit it to himself. But he supposed that it was his own fault that she had done so.
She had not been sad, no... She had been angry. He cringed inwardly as he remembered her words and how they had stung his pride. He had offered himself to her as honestly as a man was able... and she had thrown every good intention back in his face like a haughty child.
But now he was determined, he would not be denied. His need to have Elizabeth Bennet in his life pulsed through his veins like wildfire and as he had stood in the drawing room at Netherfield, he could not ignore the way his heart yearned for her.
As Bingley had shouted for him to return and Caroline had hurled insults at his back, he had set off for Longbourn on foot, not caring a whit for anything his friends had to say about the direction in which his feet had carried him.
His heart beat her name, and now that he was in sight of the walls of the house in which his heart’s desire resided, he paused... suddenly unsure of what had driven him here, but not caring in the slightest. He must have his question answered. He would not be denied his deepest desires.
From the house he heard shouting, and he quickened his pace, until he heard what was being said.
“Kitty, you must let me wear this dress! You have not worn it at all, and you do not look so well in it as you think! It suits me much better! I shall ask Mama, she will agree with me!”
A smile tugged at his lips as the younger sister wailed in response, and somehow he found himself missing Georgiana. All at once, the dark front door of the Bennet house flew open and Elizabeth Bennet charged through it, and straight into his arms.
She almost fell, but he caught her up in his strong arms and set her gently on her feet. He watched in amazement as a hot blush crept up her neck and she stammered a greeting. His heart was pounding in his chest at the merest touch of her hand and he longed to hold her against his chest once more.
“Mr. Darcy... I did not expect to see you here... In fact, I confess t
hat I never...” Her words were cut off by the shill voice of Mrs. Bennet who had appeared in the doorway behind them.
“Ah! Mr. Darcy! Why how good of you to call on us here at Longbourn. Did you perhaps bring your friend Mr. Bingley with you? Jane is just behind me... Jane!” Instantly uncomfortable, and realizing that he was not entirely welcome in the Bennet house, he looked for an escape... and also a reason for being there, but, still shaken by his interaction with the woman who had spurned his offer of marriage, his tongue failed him.
“Mrs. Bennet. Miss Bennet. I... I am sorry to disturb your day.” He somehow managed to blurt out the politest words he could think of in this situation, but it seemed to fall flat, and Mrs. Bannet’s reply dripped with condescension.
“Well, Mr. Darcy, you are very welcome indeed. Will you come in for tea?” Mrs. Bennet’s welcome smile seemed forced, and Darcy could think of nothing more horrifying than being trapped inside the Bennet house so soon after Elizabeth’s rejection of his proposal.
“I beg your pardon, Mrs. Bennet, but I must decline. I came to Longbourn today to enquire after Miss Elizabeth Bennet.” Elizabeth stared at him incredulously and he felt his heart lurch inside his chest.
“I confess I am all astonishment, Mr. Darcy! We were under the impression that you had nothing more to say to our Lizzy!” Darcy felt a smile twitch at the corner of his lips. Elizabeth had acquired her inner fire honestly, and he watched out of the corner of his eye as Elizabeth’s embarrassment flooded her face.
“Mama!”
“Oh, Lizzy, do not fuss. Mr. Darcy, whatever you have to say to Lizzy, you may be assured will be very private indeed.” Mrs. Bennet seemed oblivious to her daughter’s discomfort, and Darcy smothered another smile.
“Mrs. Bennet, I thank you, but I came.... I came to ask Miss Elizabeth...”
“Mr. Darcy. I will save you. I was just about to walk through the grounds for some fresh air. Will you... join me?” More than a little relieved, Darcy nodded briefly and touched his fingers to the edge of his top hat.
