by Abbey North
He turned to Lizzy, bending at the waist. “It appears you have gotten your wish, madam.”
She glared at him. “I wish to speak with you alone, Mr. Darcy.”
The footman had already returned to the house, and Bingley suddenly looked like he wanted to make himself scarce. “I, er, shall just leave you to accompany Lizzy back, Darcy.” He clapped him awkwardly on the back and started walking quickly away.
Fitzwilliam waited until Bingley was out of hearing range before facing Lizzy. “Why are you angry with me? I was simply trying to protect you.”
“You are disregarding what I want. Again. You always have your strongly held opinions, and you have no regard for what I think or feel. I did not want you to risk your life in such a foolish endeavor, yet you were prepared to do so.”
Fitzwilliam blinked, honestly puzzled. “I had chosen to do so to preserve your honor, Miss Elizabeth. I do not understand why you are so angry with me for doing this.”
“You could have been killed, you fool.” As she said the words, she thumped her fist on his chest. “Do you think I wish to have cold honor rather than you? Have I not waited long enough?” She burst into tears, but instead of coming closer, she turned away from him.
He was baffled and lost. “I do not understand. What is it you are trying to say to me?”
She whirled around to face him. “I love you, you fool. I have for years, ever since Rosings Park. I was aware you tried to get Charles to leave Netherfield and avoid Jane, though you were unsuccessful. I disliked you for that, but I saw another side of you while I was visiting Charlotte, and you were visiting Lady de Bourgh. I quite liked that side of you, and then you had to ruin it with calling my sister a virtual fortune hunter. Why are you so infuriating, Fitzwilliam Darcy?” She was virtually bellowing at him now.
He wasn’t worried by the display of temper. In fact, it was akin to passion, which only made him speculate how much more brightly she would burn when her senses were enflamed for a different reason. “Tell me, are you truly resolved never to marry, Miss Bennet?”
She put her hands on her hips and glared at him. “I certainly am at the moment. I refuse to marry someone who would sacrifice himself for my honor. I do not want a sacrificial lamb at the altar, Mr. Darcy.”
His eyes widened. “You believe I offered for your hand because of how I touched you last night, and how I compromised you?”
She flushed, still obviously embarrassed about the moment, but she didn’t look away from him. “It was you who made that quite clear, Mr. Darcy. There was no doubting your reason for proposing.”
He couldn’t help grinning. “I was trying to be logical. You had already mentioned you had no desire to marry, so I had hoped to persuade you through other means rather than emotion. You have given little indication that you care a whit for me, Miss Bennet. How was I to glean there was far more to your attachment with so little encouragement given? If I were to be reliant upon the attention you had spared me over the years, I likely would have withered and died by now.”
Her cheeks flushed. “It is clearly an unsuitable match, Mr. Darcy. I could never be one of the women you approve of, and my family would always be a burden to you. I would resent anyone who could not love and accept them as they are, though I freely admit they can be quite distressing. It was obvious we could never be happy together. I did my best to discourage my own emotions, and my avoidance of you had nothing to do with trying to discourage yours. Indeed, I had no idea such even existed on your part.”
“Would it shock you to learn they have existed since Rosings Park and started during your brief stay at Netherfield?”
She frowned. “I…what?”
“I came to propose to you that day at Hunsford.”
She gasped. “You cannot be serious.”
With a husky laugh, he stepped closer, brushing her hair off her face. She didn’t move away, and he took that as a promising sign. “It might not have been your intention, but your avoidance of me threatened to undo all my feelings. I was half-convinced you hated me most of the time, and though I did behave horribly at the Assembly ball, and I freely admit I tried to interfere with Jane and Charles making a match, I have always been intrigued by you. My fascination grew to admiration, and admiration became affection. During our time at Rosings Park, I fell quite deeply in love with you. I promise you I had come to the rectory that day to propose to you. Did you not wonder why I had timed my visit when you were alone?”
Her mouth dropped open, and she seemed like a fish out of water for a moment before she said in a tentative voice, “I assumed it was simply an accident. You are not the type to violate protocol by visiting single, unmarried women alone.”
He shook his head. “I certainly am not, yet I did for you. I came to propose but ruined everything with my unwanted opinion about the match between Jane and Bingley. I would like you to know I was wrong about that. Jane is clearly a good partner for my dear friend, and her love for him is as obvious as his is for her. I am thankful he had the fortitude to ignore my advice, and he was generous enough to overlook my initial conclusions and maintain our friendship. Mr. Bingley is a man who believes in second chances. I am striving to be that man.”
She frowned. “Once your good opinion is lost, it is lost forever.”
He flushed. “Perhaps I am not that inflexible any longer.” He dispensed with formalities as he stepped closer, putting his arms around her. “I love you and have for at least the last two years. Sometimes, I think I might have loved you from the moment I met you, but I was too stubborn and prideful to admit such a folly in myself.”
She shook her head. “But my family—”
“Your family is part of your life, and I accept that. They will be welcome at Pemberley anytime you wish to visit with them, but the nice thing about Pemberley is it is a few days’ journey from our home to Longbourn. That will give me time to acclimate to the change in our relationships before your mother and sisters come live with us upon your father’s passing.”
He took pleasure in robbing her of her further objections. She seemed stymied and almost disgruntled that he had answered her objections so clearly. “I love you, Lizzy, and I accept every part of you, the good and the bad. Will you do me the honor of being my wife?”
She frowned for another moment, and he was almost convinced she was going to reject him. It was a shock, mingled with relief, when she nodded after a long moment, lifted her head, and said in a bright, positive voice, “I will marry you, Fitzwilliam Darcy. To be clear, it is for love and not honor or society’s silly rules. Do you accept me on those terms?”
“Most emphatically and enthusiastically,” he said as he swept her into a kiss before pulling her into his arms more tightly, wishing they could dispense with the need to wait for their wedding. He’d love to pull her down onto the damp grass and show her the delights to which her older sister had alluded that had so intrigued her, but he could wait. He was a man of passion, but he also respected her, so he could control himself that long.
As she rubbed her hand against the bulge in his pants, he wondered if perhaps he was mistaking his own strength. With a groan, he pulled back from her, separating from necessity. “Soon, my love, we shall enjoy such pleasures.”
After a moment, she sighed, and her shoulders slumped. “I suppose I can wait.”
“As can I, but only if there is someone around to help regulate my control. I suggest we return to the house now before tongues start wagging.”
She put her arm through his, and they started walking back toward the Hennesseys’ home. Just having her this close was almost more temptation than he could resist, but he forced himself to summon a shred of decorum and cling to his principles. He would not dishonor or compromise Lizzy again.
Epilogue
They were married less than a week later, since Fitzwilliam and Lizzy were both far too impatient to wait any longer. Once he’d secured a special license and spoken with Mr. Bennet, who had first given cautious app
roval before getting confirmation from Lizzy that this was truly what she wanted, they had arranged the ceremony.
They were married at Longbourn, since neither of them wanted to delay the marriage and wedding night until they could reach Pemberley. Netherfield was long sold to a different owner, since Charles and Jane had bought Spencer Park closer to Pemberley, so Longbourn had been the most expedient option.
Darcy had expected to feel humbled, perhaps even a little ashamed, of marrying with the burden of Fanny Bennet fluttering around, but his gaze had remained mostly on his bride, and he’d spared little thought for anything else.
He’d had a moment of mirth though. His aunt had looked dreadfully uncomfortable being squeezed into the small church in Meryton and then later the Longbourn dining room for the wedding breakfast, but he had little concern for her discomfort.
Amazingly, she had not voiced her objections, which surprised him, because he’d been certain she would do so. Her opinion on this mattered not a whit, but he was glad she had spared them all by not speaking up. It was unusually tactful of Lady de Bourgh.
Now, he was finally alone with Lizzy in the room she’d explained was the one she used to share with Jane but now slept in alone. He disliked the need for them to be quiet, and he looked forward to reaching Pemberley, where she could give voice to her passions as freely as she wanted. For now, they would have to be subdued, but he could not imagine waiting a moment longer to possess his wife.
He helped her disrobe from the wedding dress, and then she helped him with his wedding clothes as well. Neither of them had felt like waiting for a valet or an Abigail to assist, and they hadn’t bothered with the pretense of maintaining separate rooms. If he had his way, there would be very few nights, if any, that Lizzy would spend in the mistress’s suite at Pemberley. She would be tucked beside him in bed, his arms around her as she slept beside him where she belonged.
When they were nude together, he picked her up and swept her to the bed, lying her down gently. She pulled him down into her arms, and he spent the next several moments stoking her excitement in preparing her to become his wife in every sense of the word.
When she had come apart underneath him from his tender touch against her pearl, he parted her quim and slid his shaft inside her, going slowly to avoid injuring her. Lizzy whimpered once, her sheath contracting around him in pain, and he held still until it passed. When she started cautiously moving against him, he increased the pace of his thrusts, soon taking them both over the edge.
Afterward, he laid with her in his arms, breathing heavily as their heartrates gradually slowed together. When he could speak again and think clearly, he said, “Do you believe Jane was correct in her assessment, Lizzy?”
She giggled. “I believe my sister was very correct. There is much merit to this act, and I should like to try it again and again. I am quite curious, you know. I want to understand every nuance.”
He grinned as he rolled over to the side, pulling her with him. “There are a great many nuances in which we can partake, and I look forward to teaching you each one of them, my love.” He brushed a kiss against her lips before pulling her closer, soothed by finally having her in his arms at last. His heart had belonged to her for years, so it was only fitting that she now belonged with him. Finally, they could be together, and knowing how they felt about the other, he was confident their happiness would last a lifetime.
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About the Author
Abbey is a diehard Jane Austen fan and has loved Fitzwilliam since the first time she “met” him at age thirteen upon borrowing the book from the school library. He is the ideal man, though Abbey’s husband is a close second. Abbey enjoys writing various steamy and sweet Jane Austen variations, but “Pride & Prejudice” (and Mr. Darcy) will always be her favorite.
