The touch of his hand on her sensitive skin ignited a fire in Elizabeth that was impossible to ignore. She found herself leaning her head away from his hand to allow him greater access. As he accepted the invitation by stroking his fingertips along the line of her shoulder to her neck where he continued his caresses, she felt flooded with sensations of excitement and pleasure. Slipping his free hand around her waist, he drew her back against him, and slid his other hand slowly down her arm to join it. She felt enthralled by the feeling of his strong body against her back, and she arched her head back to claim even more of him. The sensation of being enclosed by his arms was beyond her imaginings. It spoke both of safety and fierce desire, love and yearning.
He spoke softly in her ear. “Regardless of whether you choose to come to Pemberley, Pemberley already belongs to you, and has for many months now.” His lips grazed her neck, sending shivers through her. “Elizabeth Darcy has been gracing the halls and rooms of Pemberley since my first stay at Netherfield. While I have been passionately admiring Miss Elizabeth Bennet,” he paused to trail a line of kisses along her neck, “every night in my dreams she has been walking by my side at Pemberley, and she will always haunt me there, no matter what choice you make.” With every phrase he allowed himself to explore her softness further, placing kisses in the hollows of her shoulders, the sensitive skin behind her ear, and every point in between. “Yes, I want you to come to Pemberley; I want to show you every nook and cranny, to take you through every part of the grounds, until it means as much to you as it does to me.”
She was deeply moved by the intensity of feeling in his words even as she found herself almost unbearably aroused by his caresses, each touch causing such sensations of delight and desire to course through her that she felt she could hardly bear it. Needing more, she turned her head and sought his lips with a hunger that could not be disguised. The shock when their lips met stirred her further, and the kisses that followed, unlike the gentle and testing ones he had given her before, were filled with urgency and need. She wanted to relieve his distress, she yearned for his touch, and she longed to surrender herself completely to him.
“Will you come to Pemberley?” he asked against her lips, before exploring them again with a thoroughness that devastated her defenses, leaving her so aroused that she felt she could deny him nothing.
“Yes,” she whispered, as his fingers traced lines of fire along her sides, and she knew that, had he asked her at that moment to marry him, she would have agreed to that as well.
Darcy, intoxicated by the feel of her, the taste of her, and most of all by her response that was passionate beyond all his hopes, was risking losing himself in her as he had done so often in his dreams, but knew not how to stop himself from slaking his incredible thirst for her. He tried to focus on the thought of her anger at his behavior that was sure to follow, but as she pressed herself against him and sought more of his kisses, he lost all ability to care for anything beyond the moment.
Elizabeth felt equally lost, but as his lips traveled from hers down to the nape of her neck, where they wrought complete havoc on any remaining self-control that she might have, she opened her eyes for a moment and found herself looking through the window straight into the shocked face of Caroline Bingley.
Her gasp of horror and sudden stiffening caught Darcy’s attention even before she managed to speak his name, and he looked up, fearing to find that she was angry with his attentions. Only someone who knew him well would have recognized the slight shift in his face from desire to quiet fury when he met the eyes of the source of her distress, or recognized that he was acting on that anger when he followed the course of action that he knew would upset the interloper more than anything else, which was to resume scattering kisses across Elizabeth’s face and neck.
As Miss Bingley turned her back with an obvious sneer and walked off, Elizabeth pulled away from him and covered her hands over her face. When word of this reached Longbourn, her father would have no mercy; she would find herself married to Darcy before the end of the week. She should return home right away, and try to control the damage with a confession before the news arrived. But such an outcome would be the last thing that Miss Bingley would desire. No, she would keep her peace about what she had seen in order to keep her own options with Darcy open, rather than risk forcing him into a marriage with Elizabeth.
“I suppose that I should say thank heaven that was Caroline Bingley,” she said shakily, struggling to regain her equanimity. “She is the one person who has more to lose than we do if word of our behavior were to spread, so in this circumstance, there is no one on whom I would rather depend.”
Darcy gave a somewhat ragged laugh. “Do you know, I do not believe that I have ever heard anyone say that of her before.” I have nothing to lose, he thought, and I could only wish that you felt the same. He ached to embrace her again.
The shock and fear had initially driven all feelings of desire from Elizabeth, but as she looked at Darcy, she wished to be back in his arms. “We should find Georgiana,” she said determinedly.
“Perhaps so,” he acknowledged, reminding himself that it was a success that she did not appear angry with him. He unlocked the door and held it open for her, and as she walked past, he caught her by one hand and kissed her lightly, looking for some kind of reassurance. He was relieved to see that she smiled in return, albeit worriedly.
* * *
Darcy spent a long night alternately lost in recollections of how it felt to have Elizabeth in his arms, and worrying how she might react to what had occurred between them. There had been no further opportunity for them to speak privately, and although she had seemed calm enough, during dinner she seemed to become more withdrawn. When he walked her out to the carriage, she did not meet his eyes, although she was perfectly pleasant to him. Yet again he cursed his difficulty in ascertaining her feelings.
He resolved to call on her the next morning. She did not want any attention drawn to the time he spent with her, but he could not bear worrying about it for another day. Accordingly, he found Bingley before he managed to steal off to Longbourn, and engaged his cooperation to help him have a few minutes alone with Elizabeth.
The plan went smoothly; although Elizabeth seemed surprised to see him, she readily agreed to walk out with Jane, Bingley, and him, and Bingley was only too happy to take care that he and Jane lagged well behind the other two, and eventually struck off on a different path. Darcy lost no time in taking Elizabeth’s hand and drawing her to his side as they walked, and he smiled at her with a warm look.
She acknowledged him with a restrained smile of her own, but seemed disinclined to make conversation, leading Darcy to believe she was disturbed by the events of the previous evening. He debated how to begin, and finally said, “I owe you an apology for my behavior yesterday.”
Elizabeth colored. “I would prefer not to speak of it, sir.” Indeed, she had spent much of the previous night chastising herself for her failure to stop his advances and worrying about possible complications. She still agreed with her initial assessment that Miss Bingley would likely not expose them for her own reasons, but it had occurred to her that Miss Bingley was capable of seeking revenge in other ways. She was concerned how Darcy might have reacted to her shameless behavior. Would it not reinforce his concerns about the inappropriate conduct of members of the Bennet family?
Darcy was at a loss. How was he to beg her forgiveness if she would not hear his apology? “I have no desire to cause you any distress, so I shall say only that I would far rather hear your chastisement than have this come between us.”
“I am in no position to chastise anyone,” she replied in a low voice.
He looked at her sharply, then stopped and took her by both hands. “Are you concerned that I might be upset with you?” he said with incredulity.
She forced herself to look him in the eye. “My behavior was far from irreproachable.”
With a wordless exclamation he put his arms around her and hel
d her tightly. “My dearest, when you give a man exactly what he has been longing to receive for many months, the last thing that would occur to him is to reproach you for your behavior!”
His endearment and apparent assumption of an understanding between them was more than she could manage after a mostly sleepless night, and she found tears coming to her eyes. The harder she tried to suppress them, the more they threatened to overflow—just like my feelings about this man, she thought, and began to cry in earnest.
Darcy, who was quite enjoying holding Elizabeth in his arms, did not immediately realize she was in tears, and then experienced a moment of panic not dissimilar to what he had felt recently with Georgiana. He should somehow understand what was upsetting her, but had no idea what was the matter, having thought he just reassured her. Clearly it was his fault in some way, and his guilt for causing her distress was great. Unsure as to the best course of action, he tried to comfort her by whispering endearments in her ear and holding her close to him, which unbeknownst to him had the unfortunate effect of fueling the fire of her distress. If only she would share her feelings with him! “My sweetest, please tell me what is troubling you,” he pleaded.
Elizabeth was attempting desperately to think of nothing beyond that he was comforting her. She could never say what was disturbing her without hurting him deeply—how could she tell him how much against her better judgment her attraction to him was? Once she stopped crying, she would need to tell him to cease referring to her in the affectionate manner that he was using. Exhausted with both her constant inner struggle against her feelings for him and the more outward struggle not to accede to the liberties he tried to take, she wanted nothing more than to give up the battle and agree to be his simply to conclude the matter, but she knew full well how quickly she would come to rue such a cowardly decision. Finally she calmed herself enough to respond. “I am simply not ready for this.”
Darcy thought carefully before replying. He could not afford a misunderstanding now. “If I take your meaning correctly, this is happening too quickly for you. Is that it?”
She nodded, her face still buried in his chest.
He kissed her hair, savoring the softness and the sweet scent of roses in it. “We can go more slowly, then; we have all the time in the world before us. I will not rush you.”
She could not help laughing through her tears at his words. “Mr. Darcy, I do not mean to suggest that you are not a man of your word, but I strongly advise that you refrain from promising the impossible. I am afraid that I do not believe you constitutionally capable of not rushing me.”
Her characterization forced a smile from him. “There is perhaps some truth to that. Perhaps I should promise instead to do my best not to rush you, and to listen when you tell me otherwise.”
“That is more credible, sir.” As she calmed herself, she allowed herself to enjoy the feeling of resting her head against him and the comfort of his arms around her.
This lasted only a brief time, though, as Darcy, while far from wishing to give up his current desirable position, was cognizant that he had just agreed to slow down his demands, and forced himself to release her. He consoled himself with the thought that she had, by asking him not to rush her, implicitly acknowledged that she had accepted that they were headed toward further intimacy.
“I appreciate your understanding, Mr. Darcy,” Elizabeth said softly as they began walking again. He looked at her, and their eyes caught in a long gaze.
“I do not ever wish to distress you in any way,” he responded. After several minutes, he added, “There is one matter in which I will need your assistance, Miss Bennet.”
“And what is that, sir?”
“I do not wish to offend you, but in order to keep my word, I stand in need of your advice as to what constitutes rushing you, and what does not.”
Elizabeth blushed scarlet. It was a reasonable question, but she could think of no modest way to answer it, nor, even could she answer, could she have produced a consistent response. On some occasions, one of his intent gazes felt like more than she could bear, but at other times, her tolerance was quite different.
Darcy had to admit that she looked exceedingly appealing when she blushed. Recognizing the impossible position in which he had put her, he sought to obtain the needed information without forcing her to state directly which liberties she would accept. Thoughtfully, he took her hand in his as they continued to walk. “I believe that this is not rushing you; am I correct in that assessment?” She nodded. “Nor this?” He raised her hand to his lips and kissed it, then held it close to his chest, and she nodded again. “How about this?” he asked, placing a series of light kisses in the palm of her hand. She dropped her eyes, but still nodded infinitesimally. “Your pardon, Miss Bennet; I am afraid my question was not clear. Do you mean to say yes, that is rushing you, or yes, that is acceptable?”
“No, that is not too much,” she said quietly, though not without doubts about the accuracy of her answer, given the strength of her reaction.
Tread lightly, now! he cautioned himself. Stopping, he stepped closer to her and allowed his lips to caress her hair. “Is that too much?” She shook her head, eyes still downcast. Taking a deep breath and reminding himself of the necessity of self-control, Darcy tipped up her chin with one finger and permitted his lips to touch hers for the briefest moment.
She closed her eyes at the moment he kissed her, feeling the impossible sensations of pleasure lance through her, and then reopened them to look up at him. “Sometimes,” she said.
He raised an eyebrow. “Sometimes?”
“Sometimes,” she repeated with a smile, then added with an air of impudence, “I never said it would be simple.”
“No, it never is simple, is it? Very well, sometimes then.” He kissed her gently again, but more lingeringly this time, and allowed himself to taste the pleasure of her lips before pulling back. “Too much?”
She looked at him with some hesitancy. “Yes,” she said softly.
He inclined his head. “My apologies, Miss Bennet; I shall attempt to keep that in mind.”
Her hand crept up and touched his cheek. His response to her touch was instantaneous and electrifying. “But please do it again,” she whispered.
He searched her face trying to clarify this contradictory request. There was a look of tenderness in her eyes that had never been there in the past, and he could not resist it. “Elizabeth,” he whispered, and reclaimed her lips, struggling to keep his hunger in check, and as she responded, he drew her gently and slowly into his arms, prepared to release her if she hesitated in any way.
Elizabeth, trembling from the intimacy of hearing him use her name, found her hands stealing up around his neck, and she surrendered into the fullness of his embrace as his lips tantalized hers. But Darcy felt his control begin to slip. Determined not to go beyond the limit she had set, he stepped back. Her hands slid to his chest, where they paused a moment before dropping, only to be caught by his. She smiled at him tentatively, and he tugged on her hand and began to walk once more, knowing all too well what would likely happen if they remained as they were.
A change of subject seemed in order. “I am looking forward to meeting your aunt and uncle. Are they aware of my presence here?”
“Yes, I wrote my aunt and mentioned your interest in making her acquaintance, so she should not be surprised.” She smiled briefly. “I also told her that we were on rather more cordial terms than the last time that you were in Hertfordshire.” She decided against mentioning the friendly conversations that had taken place between her aunt and Mr. Wickham when the Gardiners had visited Longbourn last, but she had also written a warning regarding Wickham’s unreliability, lest Mrs. Gardiner be inclined to hold his information against Darcy.
“She knew something of your past opinions, then?”
“Yes, when they visited last December, Mr. Bingley was still a topic of conversation, and you were often mentioned in conjunction with him,” she prevaricated, si
nce it had been Wickham who most frequently raised Darcy’s name. “But both my aunt and uncle are eminently sensible people, and unlikely to make judgments based on hearsay.”
They continued to talk pleasantly on what became a long ramble, since neither felt an inclination to lose the company of the other. As they finally approached Longbourn, Darcy, unable to help himself, asked, “May I have the privilege of seeing you tomorrow?”
She looked at him with a teasing smile. “I might be able to steal away for an early morning walk, if that would be of interest.”
“You know perfectly well it would be of great interest, madam,” he said, making no attempt to hide his pleasure that she had not only agreed, but had for the first time suggested a way to allow them to be alone.
Looking up, she saw the familiar intent look enter his eyes, and felt an immediate rush of desire for his touch, but their location on an open road prohibited any action. She gave an amused smile as she saw him reaching the same conclusion with a degree of annoyance.
“Tomorrow is a very long time away, Miss Bennet,” he said persuasively.
She gave him an arch look. “I suppose you will say next that no one has taken the time to show you the wildflowers that bloom behind the churchyard wall.”
“Are they very private wildflowers?”
“They never share their secrets with anyone,” she assured him gravely.
“Have I mentioned, Miss Bennet, that wildflowers are a particular passion of mine, and that I hope that they are very nearby?”