May I please present, Mr. and Mrs. Darcy!!!!!!!
This is the end of the story, thank you SO MUCH EVERYONE who had read this, supported it, bought it, and please, keep posting your reviews. And I’ll get started on the next book, A Spring Society!
XOXOX Elizabeth Ann West
Chapter 32- If Mr. Darcy Dared
It was nearly dusk when the Darcy carriage rolled in front of number 17 Grosvenor Square. Enthralled by the hours spent in Elizabeth’s company with little more to do than to talk and kiss at varying intervals, Mr. Darcy gallantly lifted his wife into the air to carry her over the threshold. Elizabeth squealed with delight as she clasped her hands around his neck, squinting her eyes closed. She could not help but feel fearful that he might stumble and they both should fall.
“Open your eyes, Mrs. Darcy. You are home,” he said, and Elizabeth did just that accompanied with a gasp of wonder. The six rows of windows and pristine white columns framing the red door exceeded her imagination. Yes, it was a townhome, but it looked far more stately and double the size of the Cheapside home she knew from visiting her Aunt and Uncle Gardiner.
As they crossed over the threshold, Elizabeth felt dizzy from the intricate geometric pattern of the marble tiles on the floor as Mr. Darcy gently set her down. She turned and gazed around her, trying to take it all in, without even worrying the staff might think her simple. Mr. Darcy kept an eye on his young wife enjoying her new home. With a smirk, he discretely spoke with housekeeper about dinner waiting for them in the dining room.
“You must be worn, Mrs. Darcy, from your travels. I’m Mrs. Coates, housekeeper here at the London household. This way and I will show you where you might refresh yourself,” the older woman with kind blue eyes smiled at Elizabeth with an open hand pointing down the hall.
Elizabeth was shown to a small room on the first floor that was made especially for Miss Darcy and other female guests to freshen their appearance. She had heard of these little rooms used particularly for grand balls and fetes, but Longbourn did not boast such a modern convenience. Still, after washing her face in the small basin, Elizabeth looked in the small mirror on the wall and tried to see if there was any marked difference in her appearance as a married woman. Of course, there was no sign save for the emerald and gold band on her finger, and she realized this was the first time she had been separated from her husband since they had taken their vows that morning. She had scarcely eaten or drank all day, and now that she had reached what she considered to be her final destination on her first day of being Mrs. Darcy, her stomach growled and churned with a more insistent need than her heart.
Thus, Elizabeth returned to the dining room in happy spirits and utter appreciation for the spread before them. She laughed as a plate of asparagus had been placed directly next to hers. She caught Mr. Darcy’s eye when she noticed he had planned the dinner to include all of their favorite foods.
Neither one of them felt the need to fill the meal with unnecessary chatter. Elizabeth felt cheered to see that her appetite was matched by Mr. Darcy’s.
It was only by the second course, including a complete change of tableware between each offering, that Elizabeth suddenly began to feel slightly self-conscious. She felt most anxious and apprehensive about what was to follow after dinner. As a method of coping, she relied more and more on her wine glass to settle her nerves.
“Leave us,” Mr. Darcy said in his practiced tone of the master of the house. Elizabeth marveled that all three footmen in the dining room seemed to disappear at once. Suddenly, she was alone with her husband.
“You are unhappy; what makes you frown, dearest?” Mr. Darcy asked as Elizabeth covered her mouth with her serviette, surprised that her body language had betrayed her fears and anxieties to Mr. Darcy.
“I am not unhappy, far from it!” she exclaimed. But then she took a deep breath and realized the burden of fear still lay upon her shoulders. Flattening her hands on the elegant tablecloth, Elizabeth looked down at the ring on her left hand that symbolized Fitzwilliam’s love for her. “It is just, your house is so grand,” she haphazardly said, biting her lower lip as he gently chuckled.
“Our home,” he corrected. “Our home is so grand. This is but one of them; I hesitate to tell you. And perhaps,” he paused to take a sip of his wine, “the least grand of them all,” he speculated as Elizabeth cringed in further embarrassment.
When she opened her eyes, she spied that Fitzwilliam had pulled his chair out and much like other times that they had to discuss a troubling subject, he invited her to come and sit with him so that they might be close while tackling the difficult topic. Elizabeth stood and accepted her husband’s invitation to sit crossways across his lap, finding the nearness of his person to be an instant balm to her worries.
“Yes, there is a surfeit of riches – but we are mere stewards of it all. We manage it well and pass it along to the next generation,” Mr. Darcy recited an approximation of the speech his mother gave him under a very different set of circumstances. He had been caught being unkind to George Wickham, and his mother had pulled him aside to explain to her son there was no superiority to be had in wealth and that character relied entirely upon how a man acts. Remembering the conversation with his mother so long ago, Fitzwilliam momentarily felt a bit of sadness as he kissed his wife, wishing his parents could have met Elizabeth and come to know her as he did.
Elizabeth deepened their kiss, pulling the lapels of her husband’s coat so as to urge him even closer. To his surprise, his new wife gave a small nibble on his bottom lip before she pulled away.
“I believe we can risk that,” she said.
“Risk what?” Fitzwilliam asked, confused as his many thoughts made him momentarily forget what they had been talking about.
Elizabeth blushed.
“Beginning a new generation,” she said laughing as Darcy’s eyes widened.
“Are you suggesting you’re ready to retire, Mrs. Darcy?” he asked, allowing his hands to begin roaming up the small of his wife’s back and around to her rib cage.
Elizabeth leaned back as she anticipated where his hands would go. She was soon rewarded as his expert fingertips found precisely the place on her breast to tease and taunt.
“Is it sinful to say yes?”
“No,” he huskily whispered in her ear as he kissed her jawline and his hand reached down to caress her between her legs. “I believe it makes you a very dutiful wife.”
Elizabeth whimpered as Mr. Darcy pulled the sleeve of her gown down just enough to give him access to her breast. His mouth hungrily devoured her pert bud as she moved her hips against his hand, desperate for his touch.
Abruptly, her husband groaned and ceased all of his affections as he struggled to catch his breath. Elizabeth felt much the same.
“Do you wish to retire to your bedroom or mine?” he asked, about to explain that unfortunately her room was not quite finished in preparation for her arrival. But her question erased any need for such an explanation.
“Where have you imagined us joining together?” she asked as a spot of color appeared in Mr. Darcy’s cheeks. Feeling bold, she leaned forward and repaid him with a husky whisper of her own.
“Show me to your chambers, Fitzwilliam.”
Chapter 33 - If Mr. Darcy Dared
“Shall I carry you up the stairs?” Mr. Darcy tempted his wife with a devilish smile as they reached the open staircase that turned once with a landing before another flight reached the second floor.
“I am much faster on my feet!” Elizabeth exclaimed, dashing up ahead of him, tarrying not on the landing, and giggling the rest of the way to the second floor. Out of breath, her triumph faded as she realized she had to wait for him to show the way, so there was no benefit to winning the race. As she turned around, she held her breath as her husband did not follow her example. He took each step, slowly, deliberately, his eyes taking in the full view of her person that their difference in elevation allowed.
When he reached the second to last step, their heights were nearly even, and he gently kissed her despite the possibility of staff seeing them. Decorum could come later; today was their wedding day.
Holding her in an embrace for a moment after their kiss at the top of the stairs, Mr. Darcy gently brushed a curl that had fallen free courtesy of the busy day and tucked it behind her ear. He offered his arm and gallantly led Mrs. Darcy down the hall.
“I am being horribly rude not to offer you a tour of the house. Would you like to take one first?” he offered as Elizabeth scrunched up her nose.
Apart from noticing the walls were painted in a pale blue with white trim, Elizabeth saw very little as he led her to his bedchamber. She could not even look up at the numerous paintings that lined the way, and she honestly couldn’t muster up a care about touring the house. But neither could she think of a polite way to say so. And so instead, her answer came out as an awkward gurgle of “No, thank you.”
Darcy leaned closer to her as they were steps away from the end of the hall.
“I agree there is time later for such formalities,” he said, making a grand show of stepping away from her to block the door with his back. As Elizabeth took a tentative step closer to him, he bent down to kiss her once more as he opened the door with his hand behind his back. He walked backward to allow her to follow into his bedchamber. Once she was past the circumference of the door swing, his long arm reached above her head to close the door. With the momentum, he stepped through, gently pressing her against the wooden panel, allowing her to feel his need for her company growing ever more urgent as there was no mistaking his hardness between them.
Not to be denied this time, Elizabeth’s hands reached down and lovingly stroked the mysterious part of the man she loved that thus far had remained but a mere acquaintance. Mr. Darcy groaned in their kiss as he tried gently to move Elizabeth’s hand, but she stayed steadfast in her attentions. As he groaned again, he grasped her hands with more force and crossed them over her head so that her pert breasts arched out. He bent his head to nibble and kiss both orbs through her gown as Elizabeth panted and squirmed while delicate waves of urgency pulsed through her body.
She pulled slightly against his hand and Fitzwilliam released her. He took a step back. He gazed upon her with all the love a groom could have for his bride, unabashedly bewitched.
Elizabeth reached up to begin removing pins from her hair, and Fitzwilliam stepped forward to lead her over to the mirror so that he might place the pins safely on a tabletop. But instead, the floor length mirror served as an enticing view for them both as with each pin taken out, more and more of Elizabeth’s brunette tresses fell about her shoulders and Fitzwilliam closed his eyes to breathe in her scent. When all of the pins were removed, his hands calmly but decidedly began releasing the buttons down her back. Elizabeth leaned her head against his shoulder as his hands slipped inside the fabric, around her rib cage, and removed her gown so that she was only standing in her chemise.
“You are so beautiful,” he whispered, feeling all of her curves with his hands as the silk fell into a puddle at her feet.
Elizabeth spun around and reached up to begin untying Mr. Darcy’s cravat, but he stilled her hands and took on the delicate operation himself. But that didn’t stop Elizabeth from snaking her hands elsewhere, pulling and tugging his cotton lawn shirt up from his breeches even before he had taken off his coat and vest. Feeling brazen, she dipped her hand further in the front as she removed his shirt, gasping as her fingers brushed the velvet skin of Mr. Darcy’s manhood.
For some reason, she had expected it to feel hard as stone but found the dichotomy fascinating. Fitzwilliam gulped as one touch led to another, and yet another as her hand dipped lower, almost taking a complete measure of his length.
Her touch felt so exquisite; he could scarcely endure it. “Elizabeth,” he started as he pulled his hips away from her. “Please, my Darling, do not end me before we even begin,” he teased, and Elizabeth laughed as at last Mr. Darcy removed his coat, vest, and cravat. And when she raised her eyebrows, he crossed his arms in front of him and lifted his shirt up over his head in precisely the manner that his wife wished.
Greedily, she took in every angle of his muscular frame, running her hands over his chest and down his abdomen, taunting him with a finger running along the inside hem of his breeches. He grunted but allowed her exploration as she moved her hands away and up his back. She stood on her tiptoes to kiss his lips.
As they kissed, Fitzwilliam gathered bunch after bunch of fabric behind her until finally, he lifted the hem of her chemise well above her thighs. Elizabeth broke away from their kiss to raise her hands so that he might remove the garment from her. As she stood there, naked, save her stockings, she felt Mr. Darcy’s eyes upon her. She might have felt embarrassed if she was not so keen on him reaching a similar state. Swiftly, her small hands began to fumble with the buttons of his breeches, and Mr. Darcy chuckled, before assisting her until the couple stood bare before each other.
Elizabeth could not help her eyes traveling down his torso to finally see the part of him that so urgently lusted after her. Her eyes grew wide as Mr. Darcy’s girth in that area grossly outstripped any of the illustrations she had seen in her father’s books.
As Fitzwilliam sat back upon the bed, he removed his stockings while Elizabeth took his movements as an equal suggestion. As she slid off her garters, her body bent in a fetching manner such that Fitzwilliam froze in the middle of removing his second stocking. Standing upright, and realizing she had beat him in the task, though she started later, Mrs. Darcy giggled. Mr. Darcy divested himself of the last stocking, flinging it for good measure and reached out to her. Elizabeth accepted his hand and climbed up into his bed. He kissed her forehead, and slowly caressed her shoulders and back as she waited for his lead.
He turned to her and searched her eyes, his brow furrowed in concern.
“I cannot help that our first coupling may cause you distress,” he said, slowly leaning forward to kiss her lips as almost an apology.
Elizabeth sighed. “I am prepared if that is your concern. And if it must sting, then I shall happily endure as every other wife has for the pleasure of her husband,” Elizabeth recited a refrain that apparently had been given to her as an instruction, making her husband chuckle at the matter-of-factness.
As he coaxed her more to the middle of the bed, his hands rubbed her thighs and up her side as he tried to help her body relax from what was sure to be a difficult ordeal.
“I cannot speak for what you have been taught, but I intend that only our first coupling causes you any distress,” he emphasized as his hand slipped between her thighs and gently rubbed her pearl that was already slick with her essence.
Elizabeth moaned as Fitzwilliam did not hesitate as he had in their previous meetings. Almost as soon as he found the place that sent her waves of ecstasy, two of his fingers plunged into her with an incessant need. He lowered his mouth to her breast and as he suckled her, he rubbed himself against her hip, the skin-to-skin contact sending her over the edge. But even as she called out his name, Fitzwilliam did not stop and added a third finger which made her eyes widen as he struggled to fit them, but to her surprise, her body adjusted and accommodated. As he moved to the other breast, he positioned himself over her, withdrawing his fingers as her legs instinctively wrapped around his waist. When his mouth left her breast, she could feel his manhood as he stroked it up and down her slit, taunting and teasing them as they both urgently needed to join.
“Fitzwilliam,” she said, breathlessly, as he crushed her mouth with a kiss and pushed the head of his member just inside of her folds, then remained. There was pressure, much the same as when his fingers were increased in number, and Elizabeth sucked in a breath as he pushed harder, suddenly breaking through some barrier that pinched as it gave way. Immediately, he was fully seated, his body melded with hers.
“Are you well?” he managed, the self-control of holding himself there seeming to take all of his concentration.
“Yes,” she said and meant it. And as he pulled out and plunged in again, there was still the sting of before, but less pain. Elizabeth tilted her hips and clung more fiercely to her husband with her thighs, an encouragement he could not resist. Measurably, he increased the vigor of his thrusts, bringing a sensation to Elizabeth she could not fully fathom. Every time he joined with her, she felt such a satisfying fullness only matched by the pleasures of feeling him leave her folds to enter anew. She began to pant as her hips bucked to meet his pacing, and Fitzwilliam continued, thrusting harder and deeper each time, as Elizabeth squealed in delight.
At last, she closed her eyes, and when Fitzwilliam could feel her legs trembling around him, he lost his control and felt his completion wrack his body. Just as in the cottage, his pace became erratic, as he thrust deeper and deeper into her, releasing his seed in a way that was satisfactory to both.
When at last they felt complete, Fitzwilliam rolled off of her and pulled her form against his.
Elizabeth tried to catch her breath and process all they had shared between them, as she heard Mr. Darcy’s light snore next to her. She worried about them soiling the linens of the bed and began to complain about such a worry when Mr. Darcy sleepily assured her he had expected such an outcome.
“I’ll have the bed clothes changed tomorrow,” he said as he reached down to pull the quilt up over them as he could feel goose pimples breaking out along Elizabeth’s skin.
“But then the staff, they would know,” Elizabeth began as Mr. Darcy opened one eye at his wife who suddenly realized how silly she was sounding.
“I’m afraid, my dear,” Mr. Darcy began as he snuggled closer to Elizabeth and kissed her shoulder blade, “as we are newly married there is very little mystery as to the activities we engaged in our first night as husband-and-wife.”
Elizabeth laughed as she had to agree with him.
“And now we are to go to bed?” she asked, pulling the quilt up to her chest.
Mr. Darcy groaned as he rolled over onto his back. Truthfully, though he was spent, it was not his aim to go to sleep.
Elizabeth rolled towards him and nuzzled his neck with her nose. “I do not mean to be a pest,” she began, her nose and voice tickling Mr. Darcy so that he flinched, revealing a weakness that he was just as ticklish as his wife.
“You are not a pest, Mrs. Darcy,” he said.
Elizabeth propped up on her elbow, the quilt just barely covering her curves in a most fetching manner. “You promised me, that it is no defect,” she pronounced, referencing their time in the hunting cottage. Even though her body felt slightly sore, she found a part of herself awakened by joining with her husband, and she wished to feel that sensation even more.
Fitzwilliam reached over and gave the bell-cord a few swift tugs as Elizabeth tilted her head in confusion.
“I prepared for there to be hot water for us both to take a bath,” he explained, pulling his chin up to peck Elizabeth’s lips. “I believe a warm soak will do us well.”
“And then we have more?” she asked, in all seriousness, though her tone was jesting.
“Yes, Mrs. Darcy, then we shall have more,” he said, pulling his wife on top of him as he kissed her lips deeply. “And this time, you can be on top to do all the work.”
“Mr. Darcy, you wouldn’t dare!” she squealed as he demonstrated how their bodies might fit in a new position, though neither were quite ready for more.
“Oh, Mrs. Darcy,” he said, finally seeing the vision of the woman who had haunted his dreams since they’d met, sitting over him with her hair falling around his face like a private curtain to their love. “I absolutely dare.”
Epilogue - If Mr. Darcy Dared
The night of the ball to celebrate their marriage with the best of London society came too soon for either Mr. or Mrs. Darcy’s liking. Darcy entered Elizabeth’s bedchamber that was newly painted and redecorated. He found his wife sitting at her vanity, trying in vain to fasten the necklace made out of the large emerald Darcy’s aunt had bestowed as a wedding gift. Ever the helpful husband, Fitzwilliam stepped forward to brush his wife’s hair aside and finish the clasp himself.
“The carriage is ready, my love. I look forward to opening another ball with you on my arm,” Fitzwilliam said as he bent down to kiss his wife’s exposed shoulder.
“Then you should have asked me for the first set,” she said, checking her earrings were secure. Mr. Darcy immediately stood up and glared at his wife in the mirror.
“Who could possibly . . “ he stuttered, before finally realizing the culprit. “Richard,” Mr. Darcy said, remembering that when his sister rejoined their household the previous night, a week later than they had expected, his cousin had joined them. Still, Darcy felt incensed. “You are my wife. It should be a foregone conclusion that the first set is mine.”
Elizabeth made a face and repeated his words back to him with her perspective. “I am your wife; it should be a foregone conclusion that you don’t take me for granted.”
Darcy closed his eyes and sighed as Elizabeth stood up from her vanity and found herself in his arms.
“I am guilty, as you say. However, shall I make it up to you?” His hands possessively cupped the backside of her gown as he pressed her body into his.
But Elizabeth leaned back and pointed her finger up in the air. “Well you can start with the apology,” she enumerated. As he raised his eyebrow her hand came down and expertly slid the sleeve of her gown lower on her shoulder. He did not wait for a further invitation before his hands dipped into the front of her gown and simultaneously caressed both buds that sent her wild with need. As his thumbs worked expertly around in circles, she closed her eyes and leaned into his hands. He leaned forward to kiss her just behind her ear
“And after I apologize?” he asked as he abruptly slipped his hands out of her gown to grasp her by the waist and hoist her upon her bed, lifting her skirts to expose her to him.
“After you apologize,” she began as his head bowed down and he began to lick her center sending shivers of ecstasy through her body. She gulped.
“After you apologize,” she said again an octave higher than before, “then you may dance the first set with me.” She finished just as his fingers began to explore her womanhood. Suddenly he halted.
“You led me to believe you are engaged for the first set, Mrs. Darcy!” he punctuated the last words with a slightly firm pinch on the inside of her thigh. She scowled as he returned to stroking her.
“Oh your cousin tried,” she said, propping herself up on her elbows as Mr. Darcy slowed his hand, stroking her now in a tormenting speed.
“But I told him I was your wife.”
* * *
Mr. and Mrs. Darcy arrived later than expected at the Matlock townhouse. And though Lady Matlock scolded the newlyweds, neither looked ashamed as memories of what had made them late still brought them both immense happiness.
Much like Netherfield, the crush of people in the Matlock ballroom hushed at the first strains of the violin. Elizabeth stood up with Mr. Darcy as Jane stood beside her with Mr. Bingley. Richard was next to Mr. Darcy with an heiress his mother convinced him to ask to dance, but Elizabeth could not remember her name with all of the introductions she had been through. The couples bowed in time with the rest of others in line, and they began the practiced steps of a fashionable cotillion, with the two newly married couples forming a foursome.
“I heard a rumor, Mr. Darcy, that perhaps you might help me understand,” Elizabeth said as she linked arms with her husband.
“Oh?” Fitzwilliam shocked the audience that had seen him dance sourly for years before as he smiled at his wife, displaying his well-hidden dimples.
“Yes,” Elizabeth said tersely, as she joined Jane in the skip around their partners.
Clapping punctuated the air as the couples performed the full sequence before Jane and Bingley took their places at the end of the line.
“I heard that you only kissed me at the Netherfield Ball on a gentleman’s wager,” Elizabeth confessed, startling her husband.
With his taller stature, Mr. Darcy couldn’t help but look down the line to spy his new sister by marriage Jane talking as she danced with her husband.
“And I must tell you, that I have a lady’s wager,” Elizabeth continued as she nodded politely at the unknown woman dancing with the Colonel.
Mr. Darcy stood stiffly as Elizabeth gaily laughed while she skipped. All too soon, the clapping broke out, but instead of jumping to skip down the line with her husband, Mrs. Darcy hesitated. Then she turned and pulled her husband down by his lapels like she had since their engagement and kissed him to the collective gasp of the ballroom.
Once they broke away, there was an awkward silence as Darcy stood stunned his wife would make such a public display at what he regarded to be a serious social event. But it was Richard who provided the relief with a cheer only an army colonel could bellow, and a new round of applause broke out as the music continued.
Finding his feet, Mr. Darcy proudly led his wife down the line of dancers, still feeling slightly embarrassed Elizabeth had learned the truth and that she had sought out her revenge.
Worried she might have gone too far, Elizabeth danced with more reserve until she felt her husband squeeze her hand when they promenaded. She looked up, and he winked.
“I may have engaged with Charles in a light nature of sport,” Mr. Darcy managed as he gave that same friend a sidelong glance. “But-” he paused as Elizabeth had to move away for a short time.
“But,” he continued when at last they were reunited, “I loved you long before the wager that in hindsight, is rather distasteful.”
“Oh, I knew that,” Elizabeth said, quickly, as she began her skips again.
“Then why?” Mr. Darcy managed to call out so she might hear but waited as Richard and his partner walked down the line.
“Because,” Elizabeth said, accepting Mr. Darcy’s hand for another repetition of the dance. “I wanted to make the same declaration for you, my Fitzwilliam.”
With the warmth of his wife’s love, both displayed for all to see and what he knew from their times only in private, Fitzwilliam Darcy danced with more vigor than he ever had before. And when the set finally ended, they endured an additional, far less gentle than before, chastisement from his aunt before they joined the Bingleys at the punch bowl.
“Oh, Lizzy, I didn’t realize you were serious in your dare!” Jane Bingley said sweetly. Mr. Bingley looked slightly jealous that his wife had not kissed him on the dance floor.
“Well, I had to do something,” Elizabeth Darcy began, glancing up at her husband. “With any luck, we won’t be invited to another ball this Season!” Elizabeth said, her opinion on such matters changing radically since learning the joys of marriage that occurred far away from a ballroom.
“Ah, let it be said then that Mrs. Darcy is beautiful, kind, and nefarious,” Mr. Darcy said as he leaned down and whispered into his wife’s ear something only she could hear.
As both of the Bingleys looked slightly uncomfortable in the presence of the strong passion between the Darcys, Richard arrived to collect Mrs. Darcy for the second set, getting a promise from Mrs. Bingley for the fourth.
* * *
The ball continued long into the early hours of the morning, and the Darcys thanked the Matlocks as their carriage was one of the last called. Overall, the evening had been labeled a success, as the theatre of the first set would become better gossip than any of the old fodder of Mr. Darcy having a mistress.
Under the light of a new moon and new year, Mr. and Mrs. Darcy snuggled close to each other with the blankets and warmed bricks provided for their comfort. The streets of London had long retired, though they would not find their door locked.
Weary from the evening, Elizabeth was half-asleep on her feet as she allowed Fitzwilliam to lead her to his bedchamber, their preferred place to sleep since that first night.
“Fitzwilliam, I’m exhausted. Maybe my father was right, and I’m not cut out for this London pace of life,” Elizabeth said, half-jesting, as she genuinely was beyond ready for sleep.
“Just one more set, Mrs. Darcy? Dance with me?” Fitzwilliam asked, in the same eager voice when he had first asked her to dance.
“One more dance. For you,” she said, her energy returning as his hands began to undress her. They would not need his valet or her maid to be called, as would become a common pattern for the Darcys no matter in which house of theirs they resided.
Later, when his wife slumbered against his arm, Fitzwilliam tucked his hand behind his head, crooking his elbow in a pleasant stretch to his flank. Elizabeth stirred gently against his other side, and he tilted his head up a few inches to see if she would wake. When she did not, he turned and kissed the top of her head, matching his breathing with hers.
In the few moments until sleep could find him, he reflected on how satisfied his mind felt since securing her love. Before Elizabeth, he had played the part of a gentleman, a practiced, cool, exterior of calmness to hide the frenzied fears he carried on his shoulders. Now, with her arm wrapped around his midsection, he felt stronger somehow, more powerful than any riches could provide.
They would make preparations to leave for Pemberley in the morning, and his eyes fluttered closed as he imagined introducing his wife to another home. His wife, Elizabeth Bennet. It was the most pleasant dream he could imagine, and this time, he didn’t have to be asleep to envision it. He was living his dream, all thanks to a simple dare.
You’ve been reading . . . If Mr. Darcy Dared, a work in progress by Elizabeth Ann West.
If Mr. Darcy Dared
a Pride and Prejudice variation novel
Direct Preorder Release Date: March 23, 2018
Wide preorder: March 30, 2018
As Charles Bingley and Fitzwilliam Darcy prepare for the Netherfield Ball, a gentlemen’s challenge develops between them to secure their future happiness . . . with the two eldest Bennet sisters! But when things do not go as expected for Mr. Darcy, Hertfordshire society is in an uproar over the pursuit of one of their favorite daughters by such a wealthy gentleman.
Despite being claimed by Mr. Darcy as his future bride, Elizabeth Bennet has no plans to wed the proud and disdainful Mr. Darcy, no matter what her father says! At her sister’s urging, she agrees to give him a chance, if only for Jane’s sake. But there are others with an interest in breaking a match between Fitzwilliam Darcy and some country miss. . .
The stakes are high and romance strong as two of Jane Austen’s most beloved characters dare to declare their feelings, dare to defy family, and dare to trust each other!
If Mr. Darcy Dared is a steamy romance for fans of Elizabeth Ann West’s other works, especially those readers who love their drama cranked to a ten!
Available March 30th on these fine vendors (more added as links become available)
+ 23 additional Pride & Prejudice variations are available at these fine retailers . . .
A Jane-of-all-trades, mistress to none! Elizabeth Ann West is the author of 8 novels and 11 novellas, 18 of which are story variations of Jane Austen’s Pride & Prejudice.
Congratulations Elizabeth. I’ve always enjoyed your novels and this was so much more fun. Look forward to Seasons’ continuation. I may have to read read books 1-5 … lol
Regards, M:)
Congratulations Elizabeth, another wonderful book finished. I am sad to see it end. I enjoyed the heat of the newlyweds and the fun of the ball. Thank you for sharing your talent with your readers!!
I loved “If Mr. Darcy Dared.” Shame on him for his wager. Lol. The book had just enough heat to keep us enticed. I’ve been having trouble with my email, so it’s possible I never saw the last one you sent. Thanks for your hard work. When I see your name, I know I’ll be reading a well-written story of my favorite characters. Whiskey Wedding is one of my favorite of your works. I’m rambling on. Bedtime.
This new gripping enthralling work will earn more than a five star review and should be a bestseller . Also, be received by the JAFF Community as the book they have been waiting for. An awesome author this will encourage more and newer fans to read and look for other books you have written.
Loved it! Well done
I’m so glad you enjoyed it, it’s a departure for me… but I do have other story ideas where an R-rating makes sense for the story… so I will be doing others with this heat level down the line.
Loved this one. Great to have a story where there was love on both sides pretty much from the start. And great to have a story where the passion we only suspect is displayed. Looking forward to what you come up with next.
Thanks.
Thanks so much. Loved it! Interesting reactions from her father. Always like Wickham out of the way. The only thing that struck me as strange was no corset to be removed when undressing. Didn’t all gentlewomen wear them?
They wore stays in this time period, a similar piece to a corset but two pieces. As for the gown worn for an actual wedding, there were things done with thread and needle to make removal of clothing easier, such as sewing lining into the gown. 🙂 I was less worried about describing the clothing in that scene than the other activities . . . 🙂
Absolutely loved it! So many different emotions were caused by your outstanding plot. You’ve claimed me as a fan for life. Keep on keeping on lady, as I thoroughly enjoy your writing.
Thank you so much! It was such a lovely adventure!