The morning after the potato discussion, Darcy reached to pull his wife to him, hoping to convince her to indulge him in some early morning love-making.

He was distracted from his goal by the sound of Lizzy's stomach emptying into their chamber pot.

"I'll fetch the doctor," he said, reaching for his breeches.

"Don't you dare," she replied. "I'm almost done, and there isn't anything Dr. Trainor can do to help me."

"Elizabeth, you're ill, you need the doctor."

"I am not ill, and I most certainly do not. I can assure you, Sir, that if you fetch the doctor, by the time you return I will have walked far enough into the woods that you won't find me until well after dinner this evening. I don't care what the doctor said about restricting my walks to the garden."

"The doctor restricted your walks? Elizabeth, please, it's killing me to not know what's wrong with you."

Lizzy sighed. She knew she should tell her husband, and she didn't like to worry him so. But, she also still firmly believed the payoff of not telling him would make it worth it.

"If you insist on worrying so, might I suggest you send for my sister?"

"I will write immediately. I believe Mrs. Bingley will be here before the day is out."

He set out immediately to write his sister-in-law of his wife's illness, and elected to write his version of it, rather than her insistence that she was well.

The Bingleys, fortunately for Darcy, lived only a few hours from Pemberley, a decision they had made the evening after Mrs. Bennet's sixth consecutive visit. Jane Bingley was, indeed, at Pemberley by the time dinner was served that evening, along with her husband. Unfortunately for both Darcy and Bingley, Jane was immediately brought into the inner circle of the secret, and, somewhat reluctantly, joined in torturing Mr. Darcy. Not only did Jane believe the sight of Pemberley filled to capacity with potatoes would be delightful, but she planned on gaining a few of her own in the near future—though she was not currently in possession or anticipation of any.

That evening, after their guests had retired, Darcy rolled his wife onto her back and pinned her hands above her head.

"Tell me what's going on, Lizzy," he murmured against her neck.

"I've no idea what you're talking about, William. Now kiss me."

He placed a gentle kiss on her cheek.

"No, really kiss me."

"Not until you tell me what's going on. It's obvious you and your sister and my sister and even my house keeper are keeping something from me, and I will know what it is, Elizabeth."

"Keeping something from you? Why on earth would we ever do that?" Darcy growled, low and in her ear, before releasing her wrists just long enough to fetch his cravat from the floor by the bed. It was a matter of moments before Lizzy's hands were secured to the bedframe, her nightgown raised over her hips, her husband's mouth grazing her lips and his erection rubbing against her hips. And still he refused to make contact between their lips.

"Please, please, William, I need you…" Lizzy moaned, shifting her legs to try to bring his face to hers.

"Tell me your secrets, Elizabeth, I would know all of you." At this, Lizzy whimpered and squirmed, her resolve weakening slightly. Darcy reached down to her thighs and pulled them hard over his hips, wrapping her legs around him and effectively immobilizing her. He slid his hand between them, finding her wet and ready for him.

"I see you're ready for me," he said, licking her from his fingers. "Tell me your secrets, and you shall have me, my love, or don't and I shall keep the pleasures I bring you to myself." At this, he placed his hand back on her and began rubbing gently, refusing to give her full pleasure until she surrendered to his wishes.

When she still refused, he slid one of his fingers into her, loving the sound of her increasingly loud moans. But, ever stubborn, she still refused to impart her secrets. She did, however, resort to begging, promising him any pleasure he would wish if only he would take her and give her complete release.

He was tempted by her begging, but Darcy was as determined to unlock her secret as she was to keep it, and he slid along her body, trailing expert fingers across the plains of her body where he knew they would bring her the most pleasure, and slipping his tongue across her soft, sweet flesh—then, suddenly, into her. Out, in, around, over; but pulling back every time she got close to the height of her pleasure. She was pulling on the bonds around her wrists, begging and moaning for his touch. Still, he refused to meet her needs. Finally, he raised himself back to where she was panting against the pillow, blinking at him through her haze of pleasure and frustration.

"If you truly refuse to tell me, my love, you will not finish tonight. But I shall." He reached between them again, and, grasping himself, quickly finished across her stomach. "To ensure that you don't try to finish yourself, I won't be untying your beautiful hands tonight. You won't be finishing again until I know your secret. And I suggest you tell me soon, for I am tempted to take you over my knee and give you a good spanking until you tell me." With that he rolled off her, pulling her nightgown back down and allowing it to absorb the mess he'd made on her abdomen. He curled up with his arms around her, though she could not reciprocate, and began to drift off to sleep.

Lizzy couldn't help her attraction to this side of her husband. The more he denied her, the more she wanted him. She had never seen him so obstinate, so domineering. When he had spilled himself on her, she wanted to jump on him—and was only stopped by the bonds still holding her wrists in place. He said he would leave her their all night—she believed him, and she wasn't sure she'd be able to fall asleep now. She tested her bonds to see if she could release herself, and found herself cursing his strength and knot-tying skills. Then, she thought, had he threatened to spank her? She couldn't help squirming at the idea. His big, strong hands on her, holding her in place and punishing her? Demanding her submission? She thought she might like to try that.

But what would Dr. Trainor say?

Once she had brought her baby into the world, she decided, she would have to find a way to get in trouble with him again.

How hard could that be?