And here Darcy thought they had already had the making up, and decided it was not worth the pain of moments before, but he was thoroughly mistaken.

For Elizabeth takes a firm hold of his cravat and leads him to their bedroom, where she pushes him over on the bed and starts to undress him. His weird mood, totally ruined by their quarrel, is very willing to return, it hasn't been satisfied yet.

When he tries to unbutton her dress, she actually slaps his fingers!

'Not yet, Mr Darcy, you haven't earned that yet. You've been very bad tonight, and you need to prove you can behave first, by staying perfectly still while I test your devotion to me, and me alone.

Remember, I decide who gets to beg me for anything, not you!'

With a sigh of contentment, Darcy gives himself up to the most beautiful, smartest and most loving woman in all of England.

When he is totally naked, he feels a little vulnerable with his love still entirely dressed, and sitting on top of him, kneading his bare flesh, giving him little bites here and there, stroking his most sensitive places eagerly and not at all carefully.

Since he is rather ticklish, it's not easy at all to stay perfectly still, and every time he so much as twitches, she rebukes him with a sharp word or a slap or a nip.

When she has stroked and kissed every part of him, she admonishes him to stay put, and does something beside the bed, he cannot see for he dares not move his head.

Soon, she's back, still dressed, and she straddles him, he still finds that so incredibly tantalizing, and she's sitting right on top of his manhood, but she said he must keep still, so he keeps still.

Actually is it very pleasant to just let her decide everything, and all the tension of their fight, and the tension that led to it, drain away out of his body, leaving him totally relaxed and very heated, but still obedient. Taking his release is unthinkable, it's his fate to await patiently what his beloved orders him to do.

Feeling him relax under her, his beloved seems satisfied, and she turns around and takes a firm hold of his manhood and takes all of it in her mouth, sucking it with relish, stroking his testicles gently at the same time.

The feeling is overwhelming, he is rarely as bonelessly relaxed as now, and the bliss hits him so much harder in this state. He can barely suppress a moan, and keep himself from fondling her behind, still covered with her beautiful dress.

'That is so good of you, you're very well-behaved, Mr Darcy, I expected you to make a noise or try to touch me, but you've proven you can control yourself after all.'

And she licks and sucks his member once again, another wave of lust washing over him, making it ever harder to control himself.

Then, with a flick, she lifts up the skirt of her dress, and she's totally naked beneath!

Of course he wants to stroke those creamy thighs, her silky buttocks, and most of all, the tempting intimate parts of her, presenting themselves to him at their most stimulating. How he longs to touch those, open them up to expose their very centre, the soft moist flesh that begs him to taste it, to lick it until she squeals in abandonment.

But he dare not, she'd surely punish him if he did, she'd slap him, or worse, she'd forbid him to touch it. Better wait a bit longer for permission.

Her hands and mouth stop their ministrations for a few seconds, and she looks over her shoulder at him.

'Very good, you're so obedient tonight! I've teased you, plagued you and tantalized you, and still you didn't move a muscle. I'm so proud of you!

You may take your reward, you must be raging on the inside.'

But he isn't. He's very calm, and very happy, though incredibly heated, of course, what man could bear all this without getting fired up?

Very, very slowly and gently, he strokes her buttocks and thighs, all he wished to touch moments earlier. It feels so good, and all this time his manhood is being spoiled with tongue and mouth.

Still slowly, he wriggles under the skirt, takes a firm hold of the flesh covering her most intimate parts, and opens her up to take his first taste. It is as good as he expected, and he eagerly explores all of it, until his love indeed starts to get a little noisy.

He can feel a climax nearing, that is way too early once again, and though it's much too forward, he needs to get her to stop, this must not end already.

Stroking her hand, he tries to signal her to stop for a moment, and she does, looking straight at him.

'It's too soon, this can't be over already.'

She smiles lovingly, and turns around to face him, kissing him with a relish, then she sits on his face, covering him with her skirts. It's not easy to find what he is looking for in the dark, but with a lot of feeling around he manages, and soon he is sucking her softest flesh blissfully once more.

This is kind of cosy, hidden under her skirts, she's right on top of him, he need only move his tongue, maybe add a finger where it matters, and he has his beloved shuddering with bliss.

All too soon she groans in a climax, then kneels before him as she did just now, skirts lifted over her back, her delicious buttocks facing him, her tempting opening calling out to him, urging him to plunge in right now.

But dare he? Just like that? She's never presented herself like that, it's so, so, primitive? What is making love but primitive? Following base urges?

'Will you get on with it? Or do you expect me to beg for it?'

'No, no, my love, I'll do whatever pleases you. One tiny moment, please?'

He has no clue how this works, he needs to be careful here, if he does it wrong she'll probably be very angry.

Feeling around a little, getting pleased mumbles in reaction, he finds the opening, and plunges in without further hesitation. That meets with approval, and soon they are rutting like animals, groaning and squealing, until he feels his climax wash over him, keeping up his pumping until she moans as well.

Then they crash to the bed, spent.

And without warning, bossy Elizabeth is nowhere in sight. She settles under his arm and clutches herself against him. Is she crying? Why?

Suddenly he knows. She's a mere twenty years old, and she's just scolded her much older husband into realising he's smothering his sister. Though he has always taken her seriously, and has always listened to her, Elizabeth obviously feels her dependence on him, and she must have been rather frightened of the consequences when she told him right in his face that he might be acting out to gain control over her. It's not true, but it's so incredibly understandable.

She has laid his strange, overpowering need to rest for some time to come, now it is her turn to be reassured.

He picks up her lithe body easily, and deposits it on his own, wrapping her in his arms, nuzzling her hair, mumbling with all the feeling her situation causes him, 'Don't worry, Elizabeth, my love, you can say anything to me, always. I will never hold your honesty against you, I love you more than myself, how could I ever be angry with you?'

'I just feel so guilty about making a big deal out of it. I could have told you what I thought calmly. I hurt you, and I never wanted to.'

'I seem to remember you did tell me calmly once before, Elizabeth. I think I needed to feel this, and not just for Georgie. I think I may have pushed you too far tonight, misbehaving in public, then expecting you to indulge me in my behaviour, pushing you until you snapped.

And you coolly gave me what I needed afterwards, undoubtedly feeling miserable yourself. What did I do to deserve you, dearest, loveliest Elizabeth?'

'You chased me relentlessly for half a year, until I gave up and married you.'

She is smiling again, she is so strong.

Their last quarter of an hour they lie as close together as two people can manage, in total silence. Then they wash and ring the bell to be gilded once again.

Supper is a bit embarrassing, with everyone watching them intently, fortunately they must look the same as ever, trying to refrain from being intimate in public, though Elizabeth's actual feelings are much different.

She is very glad when the evening has finally passed, her feelings have been shaken very badly. First by Fitzwilliam allowing his weird mood to surface in public, then her sudden irritation at his humble attitude when in fact the whole problem is his dominance, and then his stunned and hurt response.

At least Georgiana can rest a little quieter for the night's proceedings, but Elizabeth will feel the impact for some time yet.

To think that she attacked her beloved so viciously, when she loves him so much. She still cannot believe it, nor that he truly wants her to dominate him, but he did in fact let go more than ever before at one moment tonight, apparently he needs to be overruled sometimes to feel free.

Head still spinning, she barely manages to be polite, she merely sticks to Fitzwilliam, seeking comfort and getting it. She's given him peace of mind at great cost to herself, but it has had the desired effect, and now he is ready to support her.

She knows she is very quiet while Fanny brushes her hair, she just cannot help it, she's still upset to have treated her love so badly, to have reduced him to begging her for her love, her strong man, her idol. The only thing that can make this right is lying in his arms, feeling the warm, solid reality of him.

'I'm sorry to be such bad company, Fanny. I guess I'm just tired with the constant scrutiny of my clothes, and my hair, and how I look at the master. I'm ready to go home, just one more day and we'll be on our way.

I suppose you won't miss this place either, having to be on your guard all the time with everyone trying to get juicy gossip out of you.'

'To be sure, ma'am, I'll be glad to be back in London, but mostly because Cook allows Bob and me certain liberties. They've more or less stopped trying to find out things, it didn't work out anyway. And Miss Ragwort isn't as keen anymore to get my job, with Mr Grenfell and a town-house in the picture. If only she knew, ma'am, that was the only time I had trouble keeping my mouth firmly shut.

But Mr Manners said I had to keep quiet to save Mr Wickham, so there was nothing else to do. He's been really nice to Simon and myself, totally appropriate, mind you, just wishing us a good day, and a little chat now and then.

Well, ma'am, I'm done, I wish you a very good night, I hope you will let me gild you once in a while to keep in practice in London, and even in Derbyshire.'

She is a treasure, Fanny, such a loyal and hard-working girl.

'Of course, Fanny, we'll go out sometimes, or have visitors. Good night, Fanny. See you in the morning.'

When she's finally back in Fitzwilliam's arms, she just cannot help it, a big lump develops in her throat and her eyes overflow. If only she could start this day all over again, she'd just kick him under the table, or tickle him, to snap him out of that strange humility. Or she could have ignored him, sharing some of the pâté with him.

'Whatever you are beating yourself up over, Elizabeth, remember, if you hadn't taken me to task, Georgiana would at this moment be crying herself to sleep. May I quote you own wisdom back at you? Think only of the past as its remembrance affords you pleasure.

We quarrelled, we made up, I love you more than ever, and I hope you still love me.'

She cannot see him in the dark, but his sweetness and forgiveness make her feel very blessed and very wanted, feelings she takes her time to relish.

After maybe five minutes of silence, he squeezes her and kisses her lips gently.

'Do I need to worry? I expressed a certain hope, and was actually anxiously awaiting an answer?'

'I'm sorry, my love, I cannot yet make jokes about what happened, I'm still very upset. You'll have to give me a little more time. I've never in my life said such terrible things to anyone, I still don't understand why.

I love you more than life itself, why would I want to hurt you so badly?'

He does not let her continue.

'That is what I wanted to hear, you love me. The rest is not important, believe me. It wasn't so bad, Elizabeth, don't beat yourself up over it.

Here, let me spoil you until you feel better, you've had a horrible day. I'm actually glad we got this sorted out, as long as you still love me, that is. Just tell me often, and I'll be fine.

In turn, I'll tell you I love you and admire you for standing up for your beliefs, imagine how happy Georgie must be right now, thanks to you.'

And in his warm, comfortable embrace she finally falls asleep, not yet convinced everything is all right, but sure of her husband's love at least.

But the next day dawns like any other day, with Fitzwilliam happy to see her, and eager to make love. Elizabeth's character is positive by nature, and she finds it much easier to forget what happened and relish her husband's obvious love.

And Georgiana certainly is back to her carefree enjoyment of her friends and her music, which cannot but give Elizabeth some satisfaction. Being in love for the first time is confusing enough in itself, let her sister enjoy the first real stirring of her feelings without worrying about her brother's opinion on the object of her affection.

That day passes quickly, and so does their return journey, on horseback once again, less cold since the snow has largely thawed, fortunately not making way to rain, but actually a fine winter day.

They are all very happy to be back home, Georgiana is behind the piano playing the sonata with Mr Fielding as soon as she has changed to a comfortable dress more suitable for wearing indoors.

Of course Fanny and Simon are out of sight as soon as they reach the house, there is the unpacking to do, but so much else with their Christmas party due in two days. Simon seems out of spirits, but Elizabeth is not surprised by that, he relishes his duties as valet so much, presenting his master at his very best, enjoying the attention and respect of the Netherfield staff, things here will be dull in comparison.

Oh well, the coming party will liven things up a little, and in a month or two they will all move to Pemberley together.