I just always love writing Colonel Fitzwilliam… probably because I married a military man 😉 Chapter 28 is HOTTER than Chapter 16 🙂
XOXOX Elizabeth Ann West
Chapter 26- If Mr. Darcy Dared
In the parlor, Colonel Fitzwilliam stood before the fireplace and was in the middle of relating a reeling tale of moving an entire regiment of horses and troops across a river in Spain, mimicking the local guide’s astonishment that so many beasts could move in such a uniform manner.
“Only Captain Brendan or Brandon, blast, I cannot recall his name, but he ordered the horses too close to the boats with the infantry, flat, shallow-bottom skiffs practically. A fish or something in the water scared one horse, causing another to buck, and the movement swamped the boat! Twenty men fell into the water, one screaming he cannot swim!” Colonel Fitzwilliam regaled as Lydia and Kitty both gasped.
“Oh dear! However did you save him?” Kitty asked breathlessly.
Colonel Fitzwilliam looked past Kitty to Miss Darcy and Miss Mary sitting in the far corner whispering. “Georgie! How did I save him?” he called, trying to attract his ward’s attention back to him.
Without even breaking her gaze from Mary, Georgiana answered the punchline of a story she had heard many a time, as it was one of the few her cousin possessed fit for polite company.
“You told him to stand up,” Miss Darcy said, flatly, allowing silence to fall in the room.
Mr. Bingley repeated Miss Darcy, unclear as to the meaning. Then, the absurdity was clear and he began to laugh.
“Oho, I see, I see, the horses were fording the river. You told him to stand up! Stand up!” Mr. Bingley laughed deeply, soon joined by all in the room save the newest three members to the gathering.
As Mr. Bennet maneuvered to enter the room and take a chair by the fire, likely one recently occupied by the Colonel himself, Mr. Darcy made a proper introduction between his betrothed and his favorite cousin.
“Miss Elizabeth, I cannot tell you how happy I am to meet you. Any lady that can humble this proud and privileged cousin of mine is a heroine of the first order in my book.” Richard Fitzwilliam bowed low and Elizabeth raised an eyebrow.
“Are you always so quick to admonish poor Mr. Darcy in the company of strangers? I say, no wonder the gentleman is so cross all the time.” Elizabeth scolded Richard in the same breath that she absolved Fitzwilliam of his deficiencies.
“Madam, you are a severe critic! Perhaps I ought to campaign against you and spare my cousin your tongue,” Richard said, testing Elizabeth’s mettle.
“I’d invite you to attempt, but I’m not in the habit of encouraging a friend in the ways of failure,” Elizabeth retorted. She closed her eyes and inhaled deeply as she felt Fitzwilliam’s presence directly behind her likely looking at her at his cousin or down at her in ire. She hoped for the first but worried perhaps Mr. Darcy’s cousin would not know she was making sport of him for fun, not with intent to harm.
But, soon, Elizabeth’s concern was proven baseless. Her eyes flew open as Richard spoke again.
“I must say, this paints a very pretty picture, Darcy. You stand there behind your lady as she defends you to a fault. There won’t be a drawing room in London safe from the formidable Mrs. Darcy.” Richard crossed his arms and leaned against the mantle. “You are certainly a sight to behold, Miss Elizabeth. A sight, indeed.”
“Richard.” With one word the icy tone of Fitzwilliam Darcy corrected his wayward relative.
“All in good fun, Miss Elizabeth. All in good fun,” Richard responded, as Elizabeth overcame the embarrassment of his compliment and nodded.
“Indeed, Colonel. If Mr. Darcy has taught me anything at all, it’s that a first impression is not always the best representation of a new friend. I look forward to a time where we can speak more agreeably and you are not testing my regard for your cousin,” Elizabeth said lightly, but the content of her words plainly spoke that she held no interest in being weighed and measured by a complete stranger. However, in her heart, she felt relief.
So much of what Mr. Darcy had shared in private about his family and the loss of his parents had made her sad for his loneliness. But in this cousin, at least, Mr. Darcy had a champion looking out for his interests, even if he did not wish such a relative to embarrass him in front of the Bennets.
“My word, would you look at the hour Mrs. Bennet?” Mr. Bennet said, interrupting a conversation between his wife and Mr. Bingley.
“What’s that, Mr. Bennet? You wish to know the time?” Mrs. Bennet pretended not to understand his meaning.
“Fear not,; it has grown late, and I have three guests to install in my home! Where are my manners?” Mr. Bingley said, rising from the sofa where he had spent most of the evening happily engaged in conversation with Miss Bennet.
With so many people rising and moving around in the parlor, Mr. Darcy took the opportunity of such chaos to lean close to Elizabeth’s ear.
“Oakham Mount, tomorrow,” he whispered and she gave a single nod to acknowledge she heard him as she glided away to share her farewells with Miss Darcy.
Colonel Fitzwilliam stepped to his male cousin and offered his apologies. “You can’t blame me too much, Darcy. She’ll be Mrs. Darcy in two day’s time and then it will be too late,” he laughed as Mr. Darcy did not. When his cousin’s dramatically drab mood registered to Richard, he ceased laughing.
“He denied my request,” Mr. Darcy said quietly, staring directly across the room at Mr. Bennet who watched the chaos with an amused expression. Richard followed his cousin’s gaze to take stock of the man standing between his cousin and the thing he wanted most in all of the world, dumbstruck such obstinance existed in such a backwater county of England.
“You all must dine here tomorrow, since you can’t properly host us, Mr. Bingley. Not yet, of course,” Mrs. Bennet declared so all in the room could hear, beaming at her daughter Jane who shyly looked down at her slippers.
Georgiana Darcy leaned over and whispered in Mary Bennet’s ear who began to nod enthusiastically. Elizabeth grew curious, but before she could ask, Mary found her lungs.
“Miss Darcy has a wonderful idea!” Mary pronounced and the room froze at such a pronouncement. Red faced, Georgiana stepped forward, urged on by Mary.
“Forgive me, but if Mr. Bingley would like, I would be happy to help plan a dinner tomorrow at Netherfield Park. If Miss Bennet and Miss Elizabeth will help me, that is,” Georgiana looked to the two elder Bennet sisters and as Mr. Bennet began to protest, Mrs. Bennet enthusiastically agreed on Mr. Bingley’s behalf.
“What a wonderful idea, indeed, Miss Darcy! You are such a clever girl, and I will be present to supervise, of course. Yes,” Mrs. Bennet began to mutter to herself as though she were counting, “I have some preparations here for the wedding breakfast, but if you could send a carriage tomorrow afternoon, I can come with the girls and Mr. Bennet and the younger girls can come later.”
“Mama, may I go as well?” Mary asked.
“There will be precious little room in the carriage, Mary,” Mrs. Bennet explained, but before Mary could accept her fate, Elizabeth spoke up.
“Oh, let her come, Mama. She can learn as well and Miss Darcy I’m sure wouldn’t mind the extra help.” Elizabeth looked to Miss Darcy, following in her mother’s footsteps of arranging an entire social event at Netherfield Park without consulting the leasing master of the property.
“Yes, and Miss Mary and I can prepare some musical selections for the after-dinner entertainment!” Miss Darcy exclaimed.
As Mr. Bingley began to agree with all of the plans made for his home without his input, Richard turned around so he might speak to Mr. Darcy circumspectly.
“Is she always this formidable?” he asked as Darcy’s eyes glistened watching Elizabeth laugh with Georgiana.
“You have no idea,” Mr. Darcy said proudly, still keeping his eyes on Elizabeth. Richard turned around to see where Darcy stared and chuckled.
“Not her, her mother,” Richard said, quietly.
“Oh?” Mr. Darcy broke his gaze to follow Richard’s attention to the trio of Mrs. Bennet with Jane and Mr. Bingley. “Oh.” Mr. Darcy thought of the brash way Mrs. Bennet often acted in his presence and shrugged. “I believe if they allowed women to lead men into battle, Mrs. Bennet would have Napoleon surrendering by the third course.”
“That bad, eh?” Richard chuckled more as Mr. Bennet slunk over to the two men standing by the fireplace.
“I suspect your cousin has shared his disappointing news. I do hope you are still able to take leave in the spring, Colonel,” Mr. Bennet interjected. Both men of the Fitzwilliam lineage stood taller at the presence of an outsider.
“I won’t pretend to not know what you are speaking of, Mr. Bennet. I only wonder if you deny my cousin—”
“Richard, do not make matters worse,” Mr. Darcy warned.
“As I was saying, Mr. Bennet, I believe that a father’s prerogative is a worthy convention.” Richard smiled as the gathering was finally breaking up for the evening.
With plans set for the following evening, there was nothing more to do than to take up Bingley’s generous hospitality and test the sleeping accommodations of Netherfield Park.
As the Bennet household became smaller by comparison to the large party of Mr. Bingley and the unexpected guests, Elizabeth lamented the lack of ability to give Mr. Darcy a private farewell to her sister Jane as they both prepared for bed.
“I did not get much time with Mr. Bingley, either; Mama was there almost the entire visit,” Jane commiserated as Elizabeth helped her find an errant pin in Jane’s long, blonde tresses. The two girls giggled as Elizabeth held up the offending pin in judgment before casting it into the small bowl on Jane’s bureau.
“Well, perhaps tomorrow we will both find a way to see our gentlemen . . . alone,” Elizabeth said as she and Jane snuggled under the cool covers of their shared bed.
“Oh, Lizzy, we sound so wanton,” Jane said, cringing. But her sister snuggled closer to her.
“No, we are not,” she insisted. The two girls settled and Elizabeth stared up at the ceiling of their bedroom, wondering if she would ever see it again after she left for London after Jane’s wedding. “We are in love, and that makes anything permissible.”
Chapter 27 - If Mr. Darcy Dared
Anxious energy startled Elizabeth Bennet awake numerous times during the night. Yet her room remained stubbornly dark. She would take a deep breath and will herself to go back to sleep. Over and over she repeated this routine until at last, a final awakening revealed pinks and grays of dawn outside her window.
Silently, she rolled out of bed so as not to disturb Jane. Years of morning walks long before her sister awoke allowed this morning to be just like any other. But Elizabeth still took care to slowly open the creaking wardrobe and retrieve her gown and spencer for the day. Of all mornings, she did not wish to wake Jane.
Placing the back of her hand against the window pane, Elizabeth gauged the temperature outside. Although she disliked wearing them, she grabbed a shawl, gloves, and a bonnet. Then on a second consideration, she put the bonnet back, reasoning she could always fashion a hood with her shawl if necessary. As she closed the wardrobe, she carried her walking boots in her hand to put them on downstairs.
Even careful to step over the second-to-last step at the bottom of the stairs that would groan under anyone’s weight, she walked through the back kitchen and swiped a crust of bread left for her on the cutting board. The scullery maid avoided her gaze, but Cook wished her a good morning and Elizabeth responded the same in kind.
Scarfing the bread as she tugged on her shoes in the boot room, she burst with eagerness to escape and be on her way. With a stomp, she shoved her left heel into her custom-cobbled boots, and wrapped her thickest shawl around her to step out the back door. In a trice, she took off in a run across her father’s field in the direction of Oakham Mount.
Halfway there, she slowed, just as a slight stitch hit her side. The glow upon her skin from her efforts brought a shiver as the temperature was quite cold, even for it being early December. The frost covered blades of autumn grass crunched beneath her feet and Elizabeth wondered if she would reach the summit before Mr. Darcy. But as she spied the entrance of the trail, a lone horse waited patiently for its master bringing a broad smile to Elizabeth’s lips.
It could be no other than Mr. Darcy’s horse and she picked up her speed. She stepped carefully around the roots as once she was under the thick canopy of bare branches and evergreen boughs, it was more difficult to see her way. The sun still had not fully risen, though it had made considerable progress.
Mr. Darcy stood in the clearing at the top of the hill and Elizabeth rushed into his arms. They kissed and embraced, and he could not help but wrap his arms around her slender waist and lift her a few inches off the ground. When they were both temporarily satisfied, he released her and pressed his forehead against hers.
“You came,” he said, almost as though he had worried she would not.
“I couldn’t sleep,” she said.
“Neither could I,” he replied and they both shared a laugh.
Elizabeth took a step away from Mr. Darcy and spun in place as she felt such a filling of happiness. It was so cold, her breath hung in the air, and she began to lament leaving him. The temperature was just a touch too cold for a lengthy rendezvous, and consternation over the poor weather started to niggle in her mind.
Mr. Darcy cleared his throat and Elizabeth froze in place.
“You appear distressed. You did not invite me here merely for a private visit, did you?” she asked.
Fitzwilliam closed his eyes and sighed. When he opened them, Elizabeth had stepped near to him and gently reached down to take one of his hands in hers. He looked down at her with such pain in his eyes.
“My aunt visited me in London. It would seem the gossip of you being my mistress has reached all the way to Kent.” He paused as his anger over such tittle-tattle threatened to overcome him. But Elizabeth nodded to give him the courage to continue. “It is most horrendous and entirely my fault.”
“No, do not say such things,” Elizabeth accosted him by standing up on her tiptoes and pecking his lips. “Where would we be if you had not dared to love me, Mr. Darcy?” She smiled and stood up on her tiptoes again, this time engaging him in a much longer kiss that began to arouse passions in both of them.
He took her arm and began to lead her in a small circuit around the hilltop. There was no denying the chill of the cold morning air as they shivered both in delight and discomfort.
“I do not take it well when I make a mistake. And so I visited my godfather, the Archbishop of Canterbury, and came to back to Longbourn with a special license that will allow us to marry anywhere we wish.”
Elizabeth gasped in shock. “But the expense –” she started but Darcy pulled her arm causing her feet to make a quickened step and spun her around back into his arms. He stared intently into her eyes.
“You are worth it and so much more. It is I who have bungled our courtship and engagement and I’m afraid to say that in my efforts, I have still fallen short.” His voice quieted as he finished.
Elizabeth closed her eyes.
“My father denied you last night.”
“Yes.”
As Elizabeth inhaled, Fitzwilliam bent his head down to bury his face in the warm crevice between her neck and her shoulder. The cold tip of his nose tickled Elizabeth’s collarbone and she began to giggle.
“I beg your pardon, madam.”
Elizabeth suddenly startled, an idea coming over her.
“What if we eloped? After Jane’s wedding. I trust you,” she said, breathlessly, as she leaned into his person, so desperately wishing they were not to be kept from marrying. Her heart could not abide a date in April when there was now a special license in hand that could allow her to become Mrs. Darcy that very afternoon.
But Mr. Darcy shook his head.
“I could not do you the dishonor. I argued with your father that the gossip could harm your family, and my own, but he was unpersuaded,” Fitzwilliam explained.
Elizabeth appeared crestfallen as the unintended rejection stung.
“But do not give up. I will find a way to convince him. Perhaps soon after Jane and Bingley’s wedding. Perhaps in January. I want nothing more in the world than to make you my wife.”
The multiple meanings of that phrase seized Elizabeth out of her melancholy and provided a fresh reminder of other reasons that they had to wait, unlike Jane and Mr. Bingley.
“Will you stay in Meryton after the wedding?” Elizabeth asked.
He nodded. “Richard will take Georgiana back to London and I shall take a room at the inn. At least until your aunt and uncle can bring you to London.”
Elizabeth took a deep breath, feeling relieved that they would not be separated again. But there was still no solution to hasten their marriage, but a rescue from the cold was possible. Elizabeth sighed as a different need began to plague her senses: the same need she felt every time she was in Fitzwilliam’s company. As he held her close, the hardening pressure against her right hip signaled he felt similar distress.
“Come, Mr. Darcy. It is too cold for us to stand on this hilltop.” As soon as she finished her words, Mother Nature obliged with a bitter breeze cutting through them as they clung to each other for affection and warmth.
Mr. Darcy felt saddened as Elizabeth was right. They could not remain out-of-doors much longer,; the early winter would simply not permit it.
As Elizabeth led Mr. Darcy back down the trail, she suggested that he bring his horse to where she intended to take them next.
“It is much too early for me to call at Longbourn,” he observed, while his minxish Lizzy offered him a sly smile.
“I left so early, I have at least an hour before any of my family will waken and expect me home. Perhaps even two,” she said, walking along the tree line to the far corner of the cleared land where another trail began. Unfamiliar with all of the surrounding area, Mr. Darcy tilted his head as another shiver overtook him. Elizabeth frowned.
“A quarter-mile in this direction, there’s an old hunting cabin. We had a tenant from time to time, but it was last vacated this past summer,” she explained.
Nervously, she led Mr. Darcy and his horse through the slightly overgrown trail, passable thanks to the very weather forcing them to seek refuge.
Chapter 28 - If Mr. Darcy Dared
When they reached the small cottage, Mr. Darcy took his horse to the little stall on the side. Elizabeth retrieved the key from a well-hidden crevice on the south wall and unlocked the door.
She entered the mostly bare room, with Mr. Darcy soon behind her, a blanket in hand from his saddle bag.
“I’m afraid it’s not much warmer in here,” she commented, walking over to the fireplace to begin placing a few logs. Darcy understood her intention, and joined her to help start a fire, asking a simple question before they struck the flint.
“Will not the smoke alert your family the cottage is in use?” Mr. Darcy asked and Elizabeth giggled.
“And what should we fear, Fitzwilliam? That they shall make us marry sooner?” she asked in a mock-innocent tone. The full weight of her intentions cheered Mr. Darcy so much that he leaned forward and kissed his future wife as he struck the two stones together.
As Mr. Darcy tended to the fire, Elizabeth brshed off the dust from her skirts. She looked around the room for any supplies and found there indeed were not many. A cot lay in one corner with bedding and a rustic table and chairs in the other. Shelves along the far wall held a sparse stock of cooking necessities with cobwebs crisscrossing through the cast-iron pots and handles. Still, the fire would warm the small room soon, and she was confident if they pulled the bedding from the cot and laid it upon the floor, they might have a perfect indoor picnic without food.
To be safe, Elizabeth slipped over to the door and locked it. The clicking sound made her shoulders hunch as she registered the finality of her decision to bring Mr. Darcy here.
To keep her nerves at bay, she kept busy. As she walked over to the small cot, she could feel Fitzwilliam’s eyes upon her and she awkwardly gathered up a pillow and two quilts to bring over to the fire. She shook one of them of any remaining dust and spread it over the stone floor. Mr. Darcy reached out to help with the second, and once he crouched down low to arrange the corner just so, he sat down.
“Elizabeth–” he started, lifting his arms up to invite her to sit down in his embrace. Tears began to fall from her eyes and Fitzwilliam cradled her as he began to make soothing hushing sounds.
“I do not mean to cry, Fitzwilliam. It is not you or us that upsets me. It is just,” she took a breath trying to calm herself and avoid outright sobbing.
His velvet voice whispered into her ear, “It is just that we are so eager to begin our lives as one now that we have found one another.”
Elizabeth turned her face towards him, her eyebrows raised with hope.
“Precisely,” she said. Gently, she lifted her hand to his cheek as the man leaned into her caress. “I am not afraid,” she said. “I am not afraid,” she repeated and Fitzwilliam finally understood what she was trying to say. He shook his head.
“No, we must wait,” he began, and to his surprise, Elizabeth leaned back and removed her shawl and spencer. Watching Mr. Darcy lick his lips, she felt emboldened and began to push the shoulders of her gown down. As the fabric slipped over her milky skin, Fitzwilliam reached up to assist her, quickly releasing two beautiful orbs of her womanhood, her nipples already hardened from the chill. Though she had expected his hands to reach up, and one most certainly did to cup her right breast, it was his mouth that devoured the other.
Elizabeth moaned at the exquisite feelings of his mouth taunting the firm bud. She gasped and her hands went to his hair, grasping and pulling his curls. Such encouragement spurred Fitzwilliam on to more urgently suckle his lady. Elizabeth squirmed as his torment of her body already brought ecstasy she could feel pooling between her folds.
When he released her, she hoped for reprieve, but he merely moved positions paying the same attentions to her other breast, kissing and nibbling as Elizabeth cried out, not caring if they were found. Fitzwilliam groaned as his erection grew uncomfortably in his breeches and he finally pulled away from his lover, leaving her to squawk at such abandonment.
But Elizabeth caught him with his hands adjusting his person and she reached forward to start tugging his tucked shirt. Fitzwilliam chuckled but she continued to protest.
“I have bared myself to you, sir, and you have yet to pay me the same compliment,” she insisted.
Fitzwilliam eyed her hungrily while he untied the fussy knot of his cravat and then divested himself of his coat. Elizabeth’s lips parted and he could see a small peek of her tongue. She watched him lift has lawn shirt to suddenly kneel down to be with her on the blanket, bare-chested in his breeches and boots.
The room had begun to warm from the fire as well as their body heat as Mr. Darcy gently urged Elizabeth to her back. She smiled in anticipation as her hands roamed his shoulder blades. Her fingernails lightly scraped the broad plane of his muscles when he slipped his hand beneath her skirts. First, to her knee. Then, to her thigh.
She wiggled with the anticipation of his touch and when at last his fingers found the place she so yearned for his touch, she groaned in protest as he gently grazed the outside with his fingertips making her ache for more.
“Fitzwilliam, please,” she begged and he continued his light brush to just barely touch her most sensitive spot. At last, when his finger pressed against her slightly protruding hood, his other hand lifted her skirts. Elizabeth felt a rush of cool air as he dipped below and replaced his fingers with his mouth, just as he had done to her breasts.
This was too much and Elizabeth squealed, slightly trying to move away from the strong urges overtaking her person. His tongue licked and probed in a manner she had never imagined. She panted and moaned, her hands clutching the blanket on either side of her and pulling in desperation for relief.
His strong hands held her thighs as she soon bucked her hips against him encouraging him to apply more pressure. She writhed and kicked her heels as Mr. Darcy’s tongue continued to deliver wave after wave of pleasure. But still, she felt she needed more and while trying to voice her need gurgled in the back of her throat, she suddenly felt two of Mr. Darcy’s fingers thrust into her as his mouth continue to suckle. His fingers plunged into her again and again while Elizabeth’s chest began to rise and fall rapidly. She could feel a tightness developing in her abdomen. It was like the feeling at the Netherfield library, only far more intense and when the tightness released, she called out his name and remembered the last moment to cover her scream with her forearm.
Fitzwilliam did not relent while Elizabeth took her pleasure. He lifted up his head to watch her, expertly replacing his tongue with a thumb. He rubbed and stroked her womanhood until he could feel her essence flooding the palm of his hand. The peaceful serenity on her face when she at last stilled made him smile until his need reminded him with a twitch that he needed to do more.
As Mr. Darcy adjusted her skirts back down, and Elizabeth moved to rise, Fitzwilliam lay over her and began kissing her breasts once more. She gasped and felt a shortness of breath at how far more sensitive her body had become after her completion.
Fitzwilliam lifted his torso up on one elbow as his arm reached out for the excess blanket and dragged it forward to wrap Elizabeth up in the fabric. Her arms pinned at her side, she felt confused her until she felt him fumble with the fall of his breeches as well. She wiggled her arms out of the blanket wrap so she could caress his neck and shoulders. Almost at once, Mr. Darcy began to grunt in a low growl as his hips ground against her thighs, with her gown and the blanket between them. Still, the sensation was not entirely unpleasant and Elizabeth found herself anxious to meet his thrusts with her own, finally making his face twist with pleasure.
“Elizabeth,” he managed, breathlessly, as they continue to rub against one another, both wishing such fabric was not between their bodies. As his thrusts grew stronger and at a faster pace, Elizabeth closed her eyes and imagined herself making love to Fitzwilliam in a gorgeous four-poster bed with a canopy over the top.
“Fitzwilliam, I love you,” she said.
Those words were all he needed to hear as he suddenly gasped giving himself over the edge of ecstasy. He continued to thrust in a syncopated cadence as his seed soiled the blanket and he suddenly felt emptied of the incredible tension that had built in his body.
When Elizabeth opened her eyes, Fitzwilliam was looking down at her, and suddenly feeling self-conscious, she blushed. Fitzwilliam chuckled and leaned forward to kiss her cheek, and then nibble down her jawline until he reached her earlobe where he nuzzled the sensitive cartilage with his nose.
“When you are Mrs. Darcy, I can promise you, madam, not a single night of peace,” he said, as she giggled and turned away. He quickly used the blanket to wipe off any excess and restored the fall of his breeches, all before Elizabeth could get a good look at his anatomy. It was far less impressive after such exercise.
Elizabeth’s eyes looked down to the blanket where she could see the evidence of their lovemaking and carefully folded the quilt over to trap the soiled area into a crease. She sat up and pulled her gown back up over her shoulders, and looked for any sign of injury to her wardrobe before reluctantly shrugging on her spencer once more.
Across from her, Mr. Darcy had already tucked in his shirttails and was fumbling with his cravat while looking up at the dusty ceiling of the cabin. Elizabeth crawled forward and picked up his coat, beating out the wrinkles from where it had lain. She accepted his hand to help her stand and she held up his coat to make it easier for him to restore his attire.
Mr. Darcy tugged on her hand and pulled her into his arms for another embrace as they both sighed and listened to the crackling of the fire.
“I am so sad to go home knowing such wonderful bliss in your company is possible,” she said and he hummed an agreement.
Elizabeth leaned back to look up at him, her brows knit with worry. “Once we are married, you will release inside of me?” she asked, seeking confirmation of her limited knowledge of their couplings.
“Yes,” Mr. Darcy managed, feeling a familiar twinge between his legs as his body conveyed an interest in pursuing another round with Miss Elizabeth Bennet.
“I believe I shall like that better,” she said matter-of-factly.
“Better?” Fitzwilliam asked, his tone sounding slightly off as the hint of performance issues assaulted his masculinity.
Elizabeth laughed and patted his chest. “Oh, what you share with me is beyond all that I could ever imagine, Fitzwilliam. But I find myself still . . .” she looked around the room to find her shawl and upon locating it, left him to retrieve the last article of clothing she needed to return home. “There must be some defect, I’m afraid,” she started and looked down at the floor where Mr. Darcy folded his blanket for the saddle and gathered the blankets that were on the cot.
He stepped closer to her, his hands full of linens, Elizabeth took the bundle from his arms and tossed them back where they belonged. She stared at the heap as she felt Mr. Darcy’s presence directly behind her person, his finger tracing a curl at the back of her neck that made her shiver.
Not able to see his face, she finally felt brave enough to make a confession. “There must be some defect in me because I find that I still want more,” she said softly. She closed her eyes as his arms wrapped around her and practically crushed her diminutive form against his broader frame. She felt him inhale her scent from the top of her pinned curls until he tucked his head so that his chin rested on her shoulder.
“And it will be my honor, Elizabeth, to give you that more, once we are married. It is no defect, or at least if it is, I’m afraid I suffer from the same one,” he assured her and she giggled as his chin tickled her when he spoke.
Reluctantly, the couple soon parted with Mr. Darcy agreeing to remain with the fire until it was out, while Elizabeth walked the quarter-mile back to her home.
Though her body felt light with the feelings of love she had just enjoyed with Mr. Darcy, her mind remained troubled. Her heart wished for nothing more in this world than to marry Mr. Darcy on the same Monday as her sister Jane took Mr. Bingley as her husband. And now that she knew Mr. Darcy possessed a special license that would allow such a happy beginning to the rest of her life, Elizabeth grew vexed with her father’s stubbornness.
She was halfway up the back steps when a solution she had never considered suddenly came to her. And as Elizabeth Bennet turned the door handle to enter into the chaos of her family’s abode, she could not help but grin. She wondered what her mother would have to say if she knew that she and Mr. Darcy could marry at any time and that her father prevented them?
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.
Yes, Will Mrs Bennet come to the rescue? Colonel Fitzwilliam said she was formidable, let’s see if that is true!!!
Your description so well of the tender moments between the desperately enamoured Elizabeth
as she rushes off to meet the equally enamoured Darcy at Oakham Mount and finally culminates with their going to the cottage where she decides that she will marry in two days with the special licence help to make this a want to read for JAFF Lovers
Mrs. Bennet to the rescue. She will not be denied! Love the cottage scene.