Chapter 8: And So It Begins

Easter Sunday, 29 March 1812

Rosings

After dinner, Darcy retired to his room, removing his most restrictive clothing in favor of his banyan and slippers.

Early that day, Anne had shown a hidden stairway in his dressing room that connected to Elizabeth's room. He had never known of it, always having stayed in the front rooms of the guest wing. The back section was never used except for the visiting physician who had once attended Anne.

Richard arrived bringing fortifications. "Here, this is for us to drink now. These," setting down two bottles of wine along with two glasses, "are for upstairs."

Handing Darcy a glass of liquid courage, he reminded, "You need only to calm your nerves with this."

Darcy closed his eyes in misery but Richard put a supportive hand on his shoulder, "Should we come up with a plan for your attack?"

Groaning at his cousin perpetually trying to make light of the situation, Darcy reminded him, "I'm not attacking her."

Richard raised his brows in jest, "I would." Becoming more serious, he reminded Darcy to approach Miss Bennet with conversation and flirtation so both would be more at ease with the other. Richard again recommended they consume a glass or two of wine, but warned Darcy of his tendency to withdraw, which alcohol enhanced.

Neither could anticipate what the lady knew of the acts about to happen, so Richard suggested that Darcy ask her. He gave a few other suggestions before finishing his drink, giving Darcy a pat on the back, and sent him to "get after it."

~~~oo0oo~~~

It was past eleven, servants were supposed to be retired to their quarters. Mrs. Jenkinson, who normally occupied the room next to Anne, had moved to the downstairs servants' quarters in anticipation of her early departure on the morrow. The only people in the wing above Darcy were Anne and Elizabeth. All he had to do was enter the stairway and it would begin. He stared at the door, his courage rising after finishing his drink. He grabbed the wine in one hand, a candle in the other, and made his way up.

Drawing a fortifying breath, he tapped gently on the door leading into her room. Hearing no response, he quietly opened the door and entered. She sat in a large chair before the fire. His mind began to replay his previous desires until he saw her eyes staring vacantly into the fire, the fear on her face, and the obvious rigidity of her pose.

He paused to chastise himself for succumbing to his baser instincts. Racking his mind with what to say, he quietly moved toward her. "Good evening, Miss Bennet," he said, bowing.

Visibly starting, she mechanically rose to perform a proper curtsey, though not speaking or meeting his eyes.

Now that she was standing, he could view her loveliness. Her silk nightclothes highlighted her shape, much to his pleasure. Or would be to his pleasure were it not for the fear in her eyes.

"Would you like some wine?" Darcy lifted his gift as an offering. Elizabeth nodded, still incapable of meeting his eyes.

He filed the glasses, passed her one, and they both sat staring into the hearth, quietly sipping the wine in silence. This would not do. Without encouragement, he would not be able to perform.

After both finished their first glass of wine, he poured a second, while watching her. Richard had suggested humor. Gathering his courage, Darcy recalled her comment to him at Netherfield, "I believe one must speak a little."

Rousing herself, she finally looked his way, with only a hint of a forced grin. "What would you have me say, sir?"

What had Richard suggested? Ah… "The weather was quite fine today."

Her brow knit in confusion before a slight, uncomfortable smile crossed her lips. "Yes, Mr. Darcy, the weather was quite lovely today. The roads seem fine as well."

Chuckling to himself, he continued with the standard polite conversation for an acquaintance. "Yes, quite fine." Their conversation was absurd, but at least it was a start. "How is your family?"

Her face fell. "They are well, sir," she said somberly. "Jane writes that my father is now healing nicely and looks to make a full recovery."

Darcy cursed his stupidity. How had he forgotten her father's injury? It was the reason she was here! Unsure how to answer, he reverted to the formality that came naturally to him. "I am happy to hear it. Please send him my regards and my wishes for his continued improvement."

"I thank you, sir," she answered, looking abstractedly into the fire once again. Their momentary flirtation was gone.

He racked his mind for other suggestions. What could he use to ease the tension?

She spoke up before he could decide. "My sister Jane was in London these past three months. She returned to Longbourn on Tuesday to help attend my father. "

Darcy's calculations abruptly stopped, with his mind emptying directly into his mouth. "I did not see her myself, but Miss Bingley mentioned her presence at one point." Why did he say that! He was here to woo her, not talk about his friend's conniving sister. Besides, he implied something different in their conversation a few days earlier!

Her face fell further, as she looked back into the fire. "So Mr. Bingley knew that Jane was in town?"

She looked despondent. He wanted to pull her to him and comfort her. "No, I believe he did not."

Her expression changed to outrage. "That insufferable woman! After so rudely cutting Jane, she would keep Jane's presence hidden from Mr. Bingley!" She looked directly at him. "As his friend, why did you not tell him? Is that not something a friend would do?"

Darcy struggled to regain control of the conversation, wondering how he had so quickly lost control. "I…I…did not think she would wish for that. Was your mother not…" he paused struggling for words that would not offend, "forcing her to accept him?" he asked in confusion.

"You think Jane—a woman with only kindness in her heart for everyone—to be so mercenary!" Elizabeth leapt to her feet and glared at him, "You were complicit in keeping her presence in town from Mr. Bingley?"

Forget trying to gain control of the conversation, he was now on the defensive. "I saw no signs that she held any particular regard for Charles. The match would be unhappy for both."

"You and Miss Bingley share a similar turn of mind," she said with disgust, then returned to glaring at the fire. "One without allowance enough for difference of situation or temper."

Darcy was once again lost for what he should do. She sat staring at the fire, looking dejected. Thinking back to Richard's advice, 'do whatever it takes to make her happy.' What would make her happy?

He could write to Bingley to let him know that his angel had been in town, but had returned to Hertfordshire. Maybe he should mention her reason for leaving. If Bingley still cared for her, that would spur him back to Netherfield. Charles can fend for himself this time, he thought. At this point, Darcy needed to protect his own interests.

Although… her sister would be a good match for Bingley if she held a tendre for him.

"Madam," She looked over at him with her brow arched. "From what you say, it seems your sister cares for my friend?" She nodded, amazed at his oblivion. "What if I were to send a letter to Charles tomorrow, informing him your sister was in town but has returned to Hertfordshire, and explain the reasons why. Would that assuage your frustration?"

"Yes!" Every part of her perked up. "Yes, that would be wonderful."

Hesitantly, he ensured she knew that he could not be certain what Charles would do with the news, but that he would send a note. His friend could be inconsistent at times. She agreed that Mr. Bingly had to decide how to use the information but his sending it was true friendship.

The two sipped their wine and sat in silence. Darcy wondered how to restart their evening, hoping to recapture that brief levity they began with.

He gazed at her. Between the brandy with Richard and two glasses of wine, along with the new truce, he began to relax. "You look lovely tonight."

She looked at him skeptically. "There is no need to pretend, sir." She took a deep breath, looked him in the eye, and lifted her chin. "I have embraced my decision. For the good of my family, society will never know what happens here. As this leaves me in control of my future, I shall never be at the mercy of some man's whim."

Darcy nodded solemnly. So this would be a form of employment for her. It would need to be the same for him. Although, since there was an attraction between them, both needed to keep themselves from forming an attachment. But how to begin? His ego demanded he perform admirably so she would not think poorly of him.

She gave him a nervous smile. "Sir, we can just get through this tonight."

Get through this? She wanted to get through it. Darcy found himself both annoyed and a bit offended at the prospect of getting through it. He asked, "Do you think that is how this works?"

"As a gentlewoman, I know very little of how it works. In this instance, I presumed it would be something we would just do. Like making tea."

He looked at her in bewilderment. Exhaling, he told her, "It is not like that for me." They would have to come to some understanding for the necessary parts to engage.

Richard advised bringing her to the bed as soon as he could, even if just to talk. It would help them grow accustomed to being together and make their conversation more intimate. He had also recommended looking into her eyes, smiling, and touching her—not the secret touch of lovers, but touching her hand or lightly brushing against her. To connect with her, so they could find things that they had in common.

Rubbing his chin, he held out his hand. "Come with me." He led her to the bed, guiding her to sit on the coverlet as he sat next to her. He was closer than was proper, but nothing about this was proper.

Looking into her eyes, Darcy gently said, "No matter how we feel about one another, we have both chosen this. We are indulging the wish of a dying woman, and helping many people, including our sisters. In the process, we create new life. There will be difficulties, but it is possible for us both to enjoy this experience. There is no need for you to simply get through it."

She looked skeptical and Darcy couldn't help the grimace. Might as well learn what his marching orders were. "Do you know my aunt has ordered me to stay in your room all night tonight? And every night hereafter?"

"No," she said in shock.

"What orders have you been given?"

Elizabeth's voice was just above a whisper in her embarrassment. "That I must…um…couple… with you every day until it takes."

Would his aunt's vulgarity never end? "I agreed to my cousin's dying wish, but there was no agreement to be treated like this."

"Anne recommended I just get it over with, and not draw things out."

"Hurmpf, She has never spoken to a man outside of family or servants. What would she know? Let us leave her advice out of it, and Lady Catherine's advice tends to be…" he searched for the proper word.

"Asinine?" she finished for him with an arched brow.

"Asinine. Yes, that is a good word for it," Darcy smiled.

"So how do we get on with this?" she sighed looking at her lap once again.

His irritation rose at their being forced into this situation. While in London, he had pleasured himself a few times to visions of their first night together. Never had his fantasy Elizabeth said, "how do we get on with this." Neither had she looked like it was something to endure.

Lady Catherine, Anne, and the contract be damned! He was not going through with it if this was how it made her feel. Besides, this version of Miss Bennet did nothing to excite him; she made him sad. There was no pleasure in the prospect of an unwilling participant.

Darcy decided that he would leave her be unless she desired it as well. "We do nothing. Not tonight. Neither of us is ready for this."

Eyes flashing, she confronted him. "So I am to spend another day dreading this encounter? Anne is correct, better to start tonight."

"You are dreading this?" That shouldn't bother him, but it did. He wanted her to welcome his advances.

She raised her eyes, steeled herself, and decided to answer honestly. "Sir, I know not what to expect. If this were my wedding night, my mother, aunts, and married friends would have shared with me their knowledge. But it is not." Sighing deeply, she said, "I come to you in ignorance."

Darcy realized he had an opportunity. "Would you like me to tell you what to expect?" he asked hesitantly.

When she quietly agreed, he first admitted that he certainly could not speak for the experience of women. He then, selfishly, told her women should be responsive to the attentions men pay them during intimacy, but that women have a duty to guide the men on the types of attentions that give them pleasure. Men are expected to give guidance, but women must bestow similar favors upon men. He assured her that her responsiveness would make the act end faster.

None of it was exactly a lie; he had to enjoy it for a child to be produced, and he would enjoy it more if she helped him. Darcy felt a bit wicked instructing her to be energetically engaged in the act, but had no regrets. Speaking in such detail helped his necessary part into a state of readiness, should they decide to move forward that night.

While still congratulating himself on convincing her to be lascivious in their encounters, she asked him if it would hurt. It brought him back to the moment, and he answered honestly: he did not know but promised that he would do everything he could to keep it from being so.

She looked up at him, innocent and curious. "Please," she asked hesitantly. "I would prefer we proceed tonight."

Her hair draped loosely around her shoulders. He reached out to push it back. Those luminous dark eyes raised to his own, and he slowly brought his lips to hers. She took a moment before responding to the soft kiss. He dropped his hand to her shoulder, trailing his fingers down her back.

Pulling away, he smiled. Standing, he gently took her hands and pulled her from the bed. Guiding her hands to untie his banyan, she quickly understood what he desired and helped remove it fully. He slowly worked on removing her bed jacket, touching her gently as he untied and removed the garment. He blew out the candle and left only the light of the full moon to illuminate their activities.

With great restraint, he was the most gentle and considerate of lovers. She followed his guidance, cautiously letting him know what pleased her and pleasing him in return. When his fingers finally touched her most sensitive of spots, he blissfully found it ready for his entry. When he began to enter her, he held back, going slowly so he would uphold his promise to not hurt her. He prayed it had worked.

After, he rolled beside her to recuperate, trailing a finger along her curves and wondering how long before they could repeat their actions when he felt her chest abruptly rise. Her face was concealed by a shadow. Moving his finger to her eyes, he found them wet. She was crying.

He pulled her close, enfolding her in his arms and resting his cheek on her head. Had he hurt her? Was it just the final completion of the act? Had it been awful for her? Not knowing what to do, he reverted to the method that worked with his sister in her distress. "Shhh, I have no wish to see you cry," and he held her even closer to him.

She stiffened, pushing his head away as she looked up at him. "Would you demand I not breathe?" she challenged.

How to get her to stop crying? Her tears tore at his heart. Women like humor, Richard told him. Cocking an eyebrow and giving a half-grin, he retorted, "No. That would not bode well for my potential heir."

She refused to be amused, and pushed herself away, turning her back to him. He pulled her back into his embrace. "Come now," he whispered, "I was not serious." Holding her hands to her face she cried until she fell asleep in his arms while he stroked her hair, still not sure why she was crying.

A few hours later, Elizabeth stirred in her sleep. "Jane dear, are you cold? I could get us another blanket."

It woke Darcy, who smiled at the woman in his arms. No, he definitely was not cold. He started feeling warmer by the moment and pulled her close to nuzzle her ear. "I can not speak for your sister, but I am not in need of a blanket. There is another way I prefer to warm myself." When his lips caressed hers, she responded.

This time he did not hold back. It had felt so good the first time that he was driven to return. Once her breathing quickened, he continued until he quickly found pleasure. Utterly spent, Darcy rolled to his back, and brought her to rest on his chest. He could no longer remain awake but held her as long as he could.

~~~oo0oo~~~

Waking before the sun to the smell of her hair, he felt the warm weight of her body lying on his. As he watched her sleep, he began to stroke her hair, still feeling relaxed from the previous night.

The previous night. He smiled at the thought of it. Once they had finally started, being with her was easy. The coupling had been exquisite, though the circumstances regretful. He would comfort her, ease her mind, and all else to make her heart not so heavy as it had been last night. He held her now, feeling the vestiges of the previous night spilling from her onto his lower abdomen, temptingly close to his morning poise. He considered if they could couple again when she woke or if it would be too much.

Knowing he still had some time before he needed to return to his room, he looked at her peaceful visage. As he kept one arm draped across her waist, he continued stroking and nuzzling her hair. He thought this would be quite a nice way to wake every morning: flesh on flesh.

Elizabeth started stirring. First, much to his delight, she burrowed her face into his chest, then with a large yawn, she looked up at him in confusion. Her eyes grew wide as she became aware of her position and shifted to remove herself from beside him.

Darcy smiled down at her, hugging her, keeping her in place until he knew his prospects for this morning. "Are you well?"

"Yes…Yes, sir." She did not look well, she looked… was it troubled? Scared? Whatever it was, it was not well. "Sir, I believe I need to go…clean myself." She lowered her eyes and pulled again to remove herself from him. He let her go, watching her move into the light of the dawning sun.

What he saw as she moved into the light left him stunned. She was bloody!

What had he done? He looked at himself and saw blood where she had been. So much blood!

Jaw agape, he jumped from the bed, grabbed her shoulders, and looked at her in horror. How could he have injured her so badly? She gave no indication that she was in pain. Was she so proficient at hiding it? He wanted to call for the doctor, but he should not be in her chambers.

Before he could form words, she quietly spoke. "Sir, we both need to clean ourselves. It would be best for you to return to your chambers."

She wanted him to leave with her in such a condition? Unable to say anything more, he quickly donned his banyan and returned to his room. He would send someone to check on her as soon as he was dressed.

As he cleansed the evidence of his abuse, he wrestled with how he had caused her such damage. He read women bleed some after their first time, but so much! It would not have happened on their first encounter; he had been very attentive to ensure she was not harmed from the experience. The light was ample during that encounter for him to watch her reactions. It must have been the second. His not being fully awake upon engaging, combined with the lack of light. He must have injured her then. He thought her noises were from pleasure! How could he have been such a savage! How could he return to her bed tonight? How were they to conceive a child if he wounded her this much?

He just left her there without ensuring her health. Lud! He was an animal.

Once dressed, Darcy stormed back to her room to ensure she had at least stopped bleeding. If not, damn Anne and damn Lady Catherine, he was going to call the doctor before she died!

He quietly knocked. Hearing no answer, he let himself in. Seeing the bedclothes were fresh, he noted the soiled ones were piled by the door along with several dark-colored cloths. There was a pungent odor that was unrecognizable to him. In her dressing room, he saw her standing with the maid Anne trusted. Breathing a sigh of relief, he moved toward her as the maid removed the pile of laundry.

"Are you well?"

Surprised, she replied, "I am well, sir. I was just starting a letter to Jane."

His brow knit in concern. She looked confused, which further confused him. He had expected to find her resting in bed. If he had lost that much blood, he would certainly not be standing in the middle of a room declaring himself well.

"Miss Bennet, you must feel weak. Let me help you lie down."

She looked at him incredulously, opening her mouth to say something just as Anne walked in. "Darcy," she hissed, "what are you doing in here? You need to return to your chambers before you are found missing."

"I needed to see if Miss Bennet was in need of a physician."

Anne and Elizabeth looked knowingly at one another. "Elizabeth is fine. Give her a few days before you return. You may return…" Anne looked questioningly at Elizabeth, "…Friday?" Elizabeth nodded. Anne continued, "Friday. Maintain your own company until Friday."

Darcy bowed to both Miss Bennet and Anne, returning to his rooms unsure what to think of the incident.

~~~oo0oo~~~