Compromising Mr. Darcy: A Pride and Prejudice Variation Anthology

by Rose Fairbanks

  “Certainly, ma’am. You can find all the old account ledgers on the same shelf as those you have reviewed. Would you like me to remain?”

  “No, I only plan to use them as a rough outline, and I am certain you have other things to do. But if you could send luncheon in an hour, I would be grateful.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  Elizabeth was so engrossed in her findings that she hardly noticed her luncheon arrive and barely touched it.

  Another two hours passed when her husband’s words interrupted her musings. “Elizabeth, are you well?”

  She gasped, alarmed that he would find her looking at these particular accounts. She jumped from her chair and saw him eyeing the tray of food she had not eaten. “Oh, I was distracted.”

  His eyes alit on the books she had left opened, noting the colour of their bindings. “I see.”

  She saw his jaw begin to tense.

  He strode to shut the door. “Can you please explain why you are reviewing my personal accounts?”

  He was quite angry. She feared he believed she had only been playing a part and was a fortune hunter desperate for information on his wealth. Her heart squeezed at the thought of losing his affections.

  Elizabeth stood still for a minute. Her eyes drifted to the clock, and she realised she was late dressing for dinner. He arrived home later than expected. She looked at him carefully, and despite his angry visage, there was a vulnerable expression of hurt, which it did not surprise her to see as she had some understanding of his feelings for her and given what she found in the books. He appeared exceptionally weary, as a day of business might do to a man, and she wondered if he had taken any nourishment the entire day. She remembered how her Aunt Gardiner handled similar situations with her uncle.

  “I will gladly explain my mistake, sir. But can I order tea for you while we talk? In the meantime, allow me to suggest the lemon tarts; I believe you have a preference for them.”

  “Elizabeth, now is hardly the time to take tea!”

  “Yes, but I believe you have not eaten all day, and as you see, neither have I. We might speak with more civility if our hunger is assuaged.”

  “We have dinner in an hour.”

  “Just a few restorative bites. It will go to waste otherwise, and I have spent the entire day reviewing the accounts; I know Darcy House is not frivolous.”

  “Very well.” He was curt and dubious.

  She called for tea, and Darcy obliged her by eating the tarts. She could scarcely say for Darcy, but for herself, she felt better after a few biscuits.

  “There, now I believe we are in a position to speak rationally.” Darcy was resolutely silent. “I spent several hours with Mrs. Sparks this morning going over the household accounts since you became the master.”

  “You managed it all in one day?”

  “Less than one day. You are such a creature of habit; hardly anything ever changed. You certainly do not need a wife to run your house. Mrs. Sparks is exceptionally efficient and organised.

  “As she was leaving, I asked where the older ledgers were. I wanted to leaf through those from your mother’s time, to see the differences when the family entertained more. She never told me your personal accounts were on the same shelf. I grabbed several by accident.”

  Darcy made a gruff sigh.

  “After skimming the years your mother was mistress, I saw you were correct; they did not entertain much. I was curious and sought the years when just you and your father lived here. I noticed that after you were around age fifteen or so, there were some odd entries. It seemed over the course of a few years, several maids were let go of a sudden, and there was a strange notation next to a few of them.” Elizabeth saw Darcy’s jaw tighten further.

  “I did not go looking for your personal accounts, sir, but the first page I opened to had the same symbol as in the house accounts and was for a shocking sum of nearly three thousand pounds. You can imagine what it would look like.”

  She paused a moment; it seemed Darcy was ready to speak at last, but he remained silent. “I noticed four or five of those entries and also noticed other large sums occasionally paid out.” His eyebrows rose, and she could tell he was surprised she was so diligent.

  “Instead of a symbol, next to them were the initials GW. Perhaps I am jumping to the wrong conclusions, but I think there is some kind of connection to paying this GW and compensating these maids for what clearly looks like trouble. The issue with the maids ceased when you became the master, but GW still sometimes received a payment, although not for the last several years. I cannot help but recall your reaction to a Mr. George Wickham in Meryton, and he certainly knew you. Is he blackmailing you?”

  Darcy let out bitter, hollow laughter. “If only!” He thundered so loud it startled Elizabeth. “Forgive me. I did not mean to frighten you. And forgive me for my reaction earlier. I do not trust easily, in part due to Wickham. I am so accustomed to mercenary women. I knew early in our acquaintance you were not, but…”

  “But we are still early in our acquaintance. I understand.” He seemed relieved to hear it.

  “I had not wanted to discuss this so soon, but as it happens, we have been invited to dinner with my aunt and uncle tomorrow, and you will meet Georgiana there. I would need to speak of it soon, tonight or tomorrow at any rate.” He glanced at his watch. “We will be late for dinner if I speak further now. Will you allow me to explain it to you later this evening? We can have a tray brought to our chambers for supper.”

  Elizabeth startled a little at the thought. She had enjoyed his company the night before, and his note said he wanted it to be their bed, but it was all still so new to her.

  He saw her hesitance. “That is, if you do not feel uncomfortable…” He blushed and did not continue.

  “No, it does not give me discomfort. I would like it.” Darcy was clearly relieved.

  Deciding to forego changing to half dress dinner attire for only themselves, they proceeded to the dining parlour and attempted to enjoy the dinner planned by Mrs. Sparks.

  *****

  After their meal, Darcy and Elizabeth retired to the drawing room. He asked for her to play and sing for him. She happily acquiesced. They also took turns reading passages from a riveting account of the recent battles on the Peninsula.

  “One of my cousins, whom you will meet tomorrow, is a colonel and fought on the Peninsula last year, until being sent home wounded.”

  Elizabeth gasped.

  “He survived quite well; only a ‘slight wound’ to his right leg, as he would call it. You can barely notice its effects. He has been reassigned to the War Office now.”

  Darcy paused before deciding how to broach the topic. “I mention it because it touches on my explanation of George Wickham. I think we might retire for the night now.” It was only nine o’clock, but they were tired and did not see the need to keep Town hours when it was just the two of them.

  Elizabeth agreed.

  “How long do you need to prepare?”

  His words made her blush. “A quarter hour should suffice.”

  They walked to their dressing rooms, both concerned with the conversation to follow.

  After closer to thirty minutes, Darcy and Elizabeth sat in their dressing gowns on a settee in her bedchamber. The house had no sitting room between the master’s and mistress’ rooms. A tray of cold meats and bread were on a side table but would likely go untouched. Elizabeth could feel Darcy hated the very notion of this discussion and hoped to put him at ease.

  “William, I hope I did not make you doubt my faith in your constancy or that I would think so little of your character that you were capable of harming maids, although you were quite young. I was confused and curious. My father indulged my curiosity, and I ought to have known enough to stop once I realised I had your accounts open. You need not explain anything to me. I am sorry I intruded on your privacy.”

  Darcy took her left hand in both of his. “All is well, Elizabeth. I was not angry, only surprised
. Other than for a fleeting moment, I did not attribute any bad intentions to you. Of course, once you did explain, it made me all the more agitated, but not at you.”

  “Have we learned to trust one another, then? Do we know enough of each other’s dispositions to not have moments of doubt again?”

  Darcy gulped. He spoke truthfully earlier; trust did not come easily to him. But he also knew trust was paramount in love, and however much he had his trust broken by others, he would have to offer it to Elizabeth to prove his devotion.

  “Yes, I believe I know you well enough to comprehend that you have no mercenary tendencies. Neither would you intentionally wound me in any way. I cannot promise to always think rationally, but I will strive to remember it is you I am dealing with and not the others.”

  Elizabeth’s heart tightened to hear her husband allude to any pain in his past. “I promise I would never intentionally hurt you. I promise to try to think of how my words or actions might affect you, but I must know more about your history to understand. And I do trust you. You are an honourable man. You are incapable of acting otherwise.”

  Darcy could only wish it were true. “Elizabeth, you know my sins quite well…”

  She would not allow him to continue and laid her fingers on his lips. “None of that. Tell me what this George Wickham has done in your life.”

  Elizabeth listened with increasing anger as Darcy laid bare his dealings with George Wickham, son of his father’s faithful steward. They once were very close friends, but as they aged, the younger Wickham’s true character emerged. He never cared for anyone but himself and his own selfish desires. Darcy’s father resolutely favoured him, spoiling him after a fashion, and Darcy soon felt obliged to take care of any scandal surrounding Wickham lest it attach itself to the Darcy name—or worse, pain his father, who was ill for many years.

  The situation with the maids was clear enough. Wickham seduced them—or so Elizabeth hoped. His methods were never discussed. The housekeeper begrudgingly settled matters with Fitzwilliam Darcy instead of the master. Rather than use household funds, with his father possibly learning of the situation, Darcy used his own income. His allowance had always been too generous and well invested. He was not a spendthrift.

  When Darcy was two and twenty, his father died, leaving him Master. Wickham was given one thousand pounds, and Darcy’s father particularly recommended that his son assist Wickham in his profession. If Wickham took orders, a valuable living was to be given to him when it became vacant. Wickham soon decided against the church. He was properly compensated and gave up all claims to the living. This was to Darcy’s relief, as Wickham was not suited to the clergy or any position of trust. Yet when the living fell open three years later, he applied to Darcy for it and was rejected.

  Wickham became vindictive. Nearly six months ago, Darcy’s sister completed her education and was taken from her school. She was unknowingly placed in the care of a companion who had a prior acquaintance with Wickham.

  “I have no doubt the entire thing was designedly done. Mrs. Younge recommended Georgiana visit Ramsgate, and Wickham followed. There he made love to my fifteen-year-old sister!” Darcy’s face was pale, and his fists clenched tightly at his sides.

  “She consented to an elopement. She would have had no benefit of a settlement, but Wickham would have been in complete control of her thirty thousand pound dowry. Or so he thought! I would have fought it in every way imaginable.” He nearly trembled in his fury.

  “But they did not marry. You stopped it somehow.” Elizabeth attempted to soothe Darcy and placed her hand on his thigh.

  Elizabeth’s confidence in Darcy’s ability to protect his sister pained him, and he tried to remove her hand, but she entwined their fingers instead. “It was only by the merest chance, Elizabeth. I failed her. I shirked my obligation to my sister. If I had not arrived to surprise her, they would have left the next day. I am thankful she acknowledged the whole of it to me.

  “I wrote to Wickham, daring him to attempt to blackmail me with Georgiana’s reputation. It appears I was effective, but he could not resist taunting me. When I saw Wickham in the drawing room at Longbourn, next to you, I vowed I would not allow him the chance to harm anyone I love again. I sent an express to my cousin, the one at the War Office, and Wickham was reassigned to a very strict colonel. He will not have the time or means for his usual dissolute ways. Perhaps it will finally be an incentive for him to work hard. I only wish I could do more. Truthfully, I have little hopes of him reforming.”

  Elizabeth barely heard him, beyond that he loved her. Roused from her musings by his silence, she was drawn to his sad expression. She leaned into him and kissed him with abandon, in the way he taught her, the way he clearly enjoyed. Soon she was on her knees to reach him better, her hands tangling in his curls. Somehow, she was then seated on his lap, her dressing gown open and his hand cupping her breast. She nearly screamed at the thrilling sensation when he made contact, but he pulled his hand away as though it were burned.

  She opened her eyes to see him looking at her intently. Boldly, she returned his hand. They were lost in each other for some minutes. Elizabeth became increasingly aware of a growing hardness under her thigh, when suddenly she was pushed back to her seat, and Darcy was pacing before her.

  When she was able to speak again, she rose to embrace and beseech him. “Please, do not push me away.”

  “Elizabeth, I cannot control myself. I never can when I am with you. You rob me of my good sense. I will retire to my chambers tonight. I would never forgive myself if I hurt you. I have an obligation to protect you, even from myself. You will have to help me through the next few months.”

  Elizabeth was quite confused. “Months? My...my condition will be over in a matter of days.”

  “Days? I do not see how that is possible...”

  “William, I rather think I would know a woman’s condition better than you.”

  “Well, I suppose that is true...”

  “Did the doctor tell you to abstain for months?”

  “No, in fact, he assured me that you would inform me when all was well.”

  “You see.”

  Darcy could make no sense of the conflicting information he believed he had. Was it possible they only needed to abstain at the early stages of pregnancy? Darcy could not abide his ignorance. He must find a book to enlighten him or call on the physician. At the moment, he could not muster more coherent thoughts as Elizabeth was kissing him again.

  Elizabeth tugged on his hand. “Now come to our bed.”

  “I still think it best to go to my own room. Surely you must know most wives do not share their husband’s beds.”

  “But I am not most wives. I am your wife and a wife with deep affection for her husband.”

  “Deep affection?”

  “Very deep.”

  If it were true, and he only needed to master himself for a few more days, matters were changed entirely! Darcy only grinned and allowed her to lead him to their bed.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Elizabeth heard the maid stoking the fire and blushed. She was thankful Darcy had closed the bed curtains. Although the maid could not see them together, she must certainly know. Elizabeth’s mortification could not last long as she gazed affectionately at the man who still had her wrapped tightly against his chest. The sun was just rising, and while it was still dark behind the bed curtains, she could see he had never looked so handsome or peaceful before.

  He lay on his back with one arm holding Elizabeth tightly to his side, her head on his shoulder, hearing his heartbeat. Her hand draped lovingly on his chest. She fingered the dark hair there, pleased to have his shirt open, allowing her to touch his skin. Who knew a man looked this way under all those layers of clothes? She had seen statues and paintings, of course, but they were so very different from a man in the flesh. The acknowledgment of his bare skin reminded her that parts of her were exposed and nearly glued to his side.

  After she coaxed Darcy to
the bed, he resumed kissing and touching her in the same manner as on the sofa. Elizabeth soon learned to be grateful to whoever determined night shifts should have easy openings in the front. The thrill she felt through the thin fabric was exponentially intensified when Darcy’s large, bare hand, and later mouth, reverently caressed her exposed skin.

  In their few amorous encounters, Darcy had always worn many layers. Even last night, he wore his dressing gown, but he took it off when he slipped beneath the counterpane the final time. Now she was able to feel his flesh and the strength of his true form and combined with it her memories of the night before.

  She could hardly explain the sensations, but she was beginning to feel quite undone when Darcy began to slow the kisses and frenzied path his hands travelled from her face, along her waist and hips to her thighs and back to her breasts. As she gasped for breath, Darcy quickly excused himself. He was only gone a few minutes, and Elizabeth had only just recovered her steady breathing when he returned and drew her close, kissing her forehead. She could feel the tension in his body had gone.

  He was stroking her hair and was nearly asleep when she spoke to him. “William?”

  “Hmm?”

  “Tell me a secret. Some foolishness from your youth.” He tensed just a little. “That is...if it does not distress you. I would not want you to remember things involving...” She knew it was a pain to him if she even pronounced the name Wickham.

  “No, no. Hmm... When I was ten, I was riding with my cousin Henry at Pemberley, and we were not to go through a certain field. Henry was obedient, but I taunted him. I do not know why; I was not usually the type to disobey. I suppose even then I was arrogant, for no one had explained why we should avoid that field, and I thought better of my own opinion.”

  She smirked a little, easily believing him arrogant even as a child, and Darcy teasingly pinched her arm.

  “We had always ridden through it, for it was the best stretch for racing—it had no trees and few rocks. Neither of us was thinking of what damage the storms might have done to the field. Our horses stumbled in the mud and overturned us.”