Disclosure . The storyline, new character development, new events, and new characters are my intellectual property. Glorioux
A/n Ah, this is a mystery, so maybe William Darcy is not as rotten as he seems. By the way, I despise cheating men, that should give you something to think about. Let's read, shall we?
I am writing a mini-xmas follow up to, A baby is born.
Earlier that day -
William had remembered something odd while getting ready for bed. Richard had mentioned it, but that night was a blur. He wasn't lying to Richard when he said he couldn't remember. Why was he so drunk? He had not been drinking that much. He had already realized he never told Beverly where he lived. And how had Beverly gained access inside his home; who let her in? Moreover, he might not have asked Beverly to leave, because his mind was hazy. But he didn't bring her to his room; he wouldn't have, never. He always followed his father's advice, never to bring lovers to his home and never cheat on his wife. Was someone helping Beverly and why?
Truthfully, he couldn't remember why he was with her. It was like he awoke when he heard Lizzie's voice; but he wasn't really asleep. He needed to talk to Richard, even if he were mad at him. What if that crazy woman would follow Lizzie like she followed him after that terrible day? Lizzie would hate him even more. He needed to see Richard; hopefully, the woman was long gone. He had to make sure it wouldn't happen; Lizzie didn't need more pain. Sadly, he was too late, Fate wasn't helping him.
The Stalker
Elizabeth was shopping with her uncle and Mari before tea at the Fitzwilliams. Richard came with them. They were to meet Jane, who was buying a few things for her trousseau, with Aunt Gardiner and Mrs. Bennet. As usual, both sisters were accompanied by their lady companions and two guards. When they met later, their mother was irritated. Somehow, Jane waited for them in the wrong store, and they were separated for a long while.
The uncle walked by Jane to ask her a few questions, and Lizzie could see Jane getting upset. Lizzie had noticed how her uncle now kept a close eye on Jane; when she asked Jane why, she was evasive.
While Lizzie was in a shop, to buy gloves, she heard two women snickering and saying something while pointing at her. Her uncle overheard them and looked displeased. He insisted they left that shop immediately; he had already seen the women following, but he would ask Richard later if he knew who they were. Lizzie recognized one of the women, the blond woman in bed with William.
She never told her uncle or grandparents what happened, but they knew. Lizzie's heart twisted in pain recalling that day; it still hurt; Mari said it was jealousy. Lizzie knew Mari was right. Sometimes she felt it was her fault for denying William the pleasure of their bed. She knew she had let his words poison her mind; listening to George Wickham's lies didn't help. George, the horrible man she would kill when she saw him. She knew how and would do it.
Elizabeth was deep in thought when her uncle pulled her towards him. The blond woman followed them. She said something; Richard, who happened to be near, grabbed the woman, stopping her from coming nearer. Two of the guards held the woman's arms to pull her forcibly away, but not before Lizzie heard her. "You're so ugly. No wonder William preferred me…." Richard drowned her other words.
"You best leave London by nightfall; my cousin fired you long ago and told you to leave London. I didn't believe it before, but now I think you did something to him. Leave the city, or you will regret it…." Lizzie heard Richard's harsh tone and started shaking. Richard said more but Lizzie could not hear.
Her uncle, who looked like her older brother, whispered, "My dear, the woman is rubbish; she is jealous, pay her no mind; few are as beautiful as you. She will never bother you again my dove; trust me my Liza. She'll pay for her insolence; trust William and us; there is more to that time; I am certain. Dearest, people are looking, smile." He soothed Lizzie. Her eyes stung with tears, she hoped she wouldn't cry.
Mrs. Bennet and her aunt Gardiner, looked angry; but they also pretended nothing had happened. As for Lizzie, she couldn't forget; she wished again she had forgiven William after they married. Her father warned her since day one; he said since she married to make the best of her marriage; but she didn't listen. She couldn't lie, William had tried hard to please her, but never apologized for his awful words at Kent; the latter was the real issue.
Oh well, Lizzie thought. Since I came back, against my grandparents wishes, he hasn't asked for forgiveness, not once. Not once, has he tried to come in my room. He doesn't care, just look at him tonight. He didn't come out to greet us; he never does.That was not true, he often did, but she looked the other way. He had asked to talk to her, and she always said no. Lizzie knew that she hadn't given him the chance to say one word.
She went to sleep that night, thinking about their wedding night, wishing she had done it differently. The image of the woman with her husband wouldn't leave her.
Lizzie fell asleep in seconds and started dreaming…. She would go to her husband's room after taking her gown off. If he didn't come to her, she would go to him. He was her husband, not the other woman's; it was her right to be on his bed, to have his embrace. He had said she was beautiful, the woman was wrong saying she wasn't. She knew what she wanted; she had learned much, and what she wanted was her husband.
She was going to undo her braid, remembering he liked her hair down her back when they married, but she wanted him, no time to waste. Her menagerie followed her to the door between the rooms, she opened the door, walked inside his room, and climbed on his bed…
Not a dream
William's body turned into granite, all of it, not only his sex; he couldn't breathe. Nobody was as beautiful as her, not to him; she was flawless from head to toe. Her body was toned; she had learned to hunt, fish, fence, and ride, not like a lady, like a man. She used to go for daily long walks with her father; they looked for mushrooms, wild berries and collected medicinal herbs. He had followed them a few times at Pemberley; she still went for walks with her uncle and her dogs.
The first and only time he was with her, she was a dead doll. Lizzie had let him undress her; he worshiped her body, but she didn't respond. She kissed him, following his moves, like in a dance, with zero emotion. He was careful and gentle that first time, but she was dry. She allowed his touch twice more, then she got up, dressed, and left while he was asleep. After that day, she locked the door between the rooms and was but a stranger living with him.
Soon after the awful day, when he had forever damaged what could have been, he had changed the bed and the entire room for her. Funny, she had never seen it, this was the first time she came in. He never wanted separate rooms, but she insisted.
He lay, admiring her. She was sideways, close to him. His eyes caressed her; her small firm breasts with light tawny nipples, beaded with arousal, made him want one in his mouth. His eyes continued; her torso was long and slender, with a tuck at her waist, her flat stomach moving with her elaborate breathing. He just looked, not daring to touch her. He knew she should go back to her room, but was afraid to wake her up.
This time, Elizabeth wasn't passive, she didn't wait for his touch, climbing on him. He tried to push her away, well knowing she would hate him for this. He didn't want to worsen their relationship; it was bad enough already. It was futile; she kissed him, with passion, inexperienced but like nothing before; she was pure fire, biting, nipping; her hands were all over his body.
"Touch me down there," she whispered, reaching for his hand.
"Lizzie, my love, go to bed. This is a bad idea," William tried, again, to push her away, gently. But she was unmovable, half straddling him. She was a lot stronger that he had guessed.
She didn't listen; pulling his hand over her wet heat made him groan with pleasure. She kept going, her hand went inside his linen trousers to caress him. She helped him to take his trousers off, no, not help, she pulled them herself.
Their kisses heated; he loved kissing her, tasting her. Then Lizzie pressed his hand down, over her see, crying softly. "Touch me like the day we married; I remember that day often; it felt good. Kiss my body like you did, moving your tongue down there; it made me burn and melt inside." Her siren's call, he couldn't resist; though, he didn't remember her 'melting;' it matter not. He was madly in love with her and would take whatever she was willing to give him.
He lifted his head to kiss her breasts, sucking each nipple gently, moving his hand down slowly. Her cries broke his last resistance. She was already trying to open to him, guiding him, since she was over him. He knew when she realized what happened this night, she would be angry; so be it.
"Come inside me; I want you too." She moved over him, slowly. She wanted him, this was different.
"Yes, yes, my love," he did as she asked, thrusting gently, no longer thinking, soon feeling deep inside her. She followed his movements; so he rolled her under him; "Lizzie, my love, my Lizzie, I love you so," he cried when she climaxed around him.
This was the 4th time, during all his life, he had normal sex, always with a French letter, but mostly orally. He was like this only with his love, with his Lizzie. His father recommended it; after George, he didn't want another child assigned to him. George was a Wickham, but his mother convinced him otherwise. That was before he married William's mother. His father had only loved one woman, his wife; William believed him.
"Oh, no, my love, no," he said, when she asked to do with her what he had done with his lover.
He wouldn't allow her to repeat the feat she saw that day, "No, my love, no."
"If you like it, we can." She insisted. It made him sad she had seen him; she believed this was what he preferred.
"No my love, we don't need to. This is all I ever wanted." He moved with her; he told her the truth.
He noticed something unusual, Elizabeth seemed to be surrounded by light. Maybe it was the candles, but no, that was her. They made love several times. She wanted more. "Kiss me down there, more, like the first time. I like it."
He didn't need to be asked twice. He did all she asked; he wanted to please her; to do what she liked. So this was how it feels with the one you love, this pleasure and closeness, he thought. He wished she was awake; but she never opened her eyes.
Finally, she laid her head on his chest, falling into a deep sleep; he cleaned her, picked her up, and with regret, took her to her bed. He thought Mari stood by the door of her receiving room but wasn't sure who it was.
Her new dog, the giant, licked him. The Russian wolfhound, Brick, liked him, the only one. The dog went back with him to his room; it looked at William and jumped on his bed; the dog stayed with him from there on. After that night, the big cat came into the room once in a while and would jump on the bed. It would stay until the morning time, using his thigh as a pillow. It appeared as if they accepted him. He fed them under the table, and occasionally the small dog joined them; but only when he was eating cake or buttered bread with jam. He also made sure to have fish to feed the cat and buttered bread for the dogs.
The Morning After
Sadly, in the morning Elizabeth was as cold as ever. He wanted to talk to her, maybe to explain, but she looked away. What he didn't see was her eyes following him.
He knew why she was cold; he deserved it. He wished, daily, he had kicked the demented mistress when she came that day; but how when he didn't remember what happened. He had fired his mistress on the spot, after pushing her forcibly away from him; well, he had to slap her. He had already realized he had never told Beverly where he lived. Richard was right, maybe someone was helping her. That day when she refused to leave, his footmen had to forcibly remove her, after she broke vases and other things. The woman behaved like a madwoman; what an awful day.
But that wasn't all. Beverly was certainly a madwoman; she followed him, coming by his home, often waiting outside. She sought him in London and also went by Pemberley. Ironically, his solicitor pointed out to William that he had already terminated the woman, Beverly, after Kent and before his marriage.
William's secretary had come by with several requests for the solicitor and dismissing his mistress was one of them. His mind was hazy for days after the terrible day, thus, he didn't remember when he talked to Richard. He wasn't right for days, so he called his physician; when he examined William, he asked him if he had been smoking opium. Darcy got mad at him, but now he wondered.
The solicitor told him Beverly had already been paid an extra year after signing legal documents agreeing never to see him again. So William threatened her with the law, and she was told to leave London or face the consequences. He didn't follow up since he never saw her again; he should have done so.
William was in his office sad and troubled when Richard came in. He was there to tell him what Beverly, his former mistress, had done the day before. When he started talking, William felt wretched; his fears had come to pass. He wanted to cry nothing would ever be right. Brick, the dog laid his head on Darcy's thigh and licked his hand, feeling his sadness. Darcy petted the dog, he could use someone to care.
A/N Oops a stalker? What did she feed William? That is what he really needs, a crazy. So maybe he is not as bad as thought, but is not over yet. You all remember he told Richard he didn't remember much; maybe he was telling the truth.