Chapter 17

It was most fortunate for the satiated lovers that no one witnessed their return to Netherfield Hall. Darcy's handkerchief and cravat had been utilized to clean up, albeit somewhat inadequately, the physical evidence of their activities in the park, but a discerning eye would have quickly realized that their morning exercise had involved far more than a simple walk!

It was a flushed, rumpled Elizabeth, and a rather disheveled, cravatless Darcy, who smiled conspiratorially at each other when they reached the house. They kissed briefly before entering, not speaking, but conveying the depth of their emotions with their eyes. They were of one mind about what had occurred that morning: their encounter had provided a much-needed, if limited, release, and neither of them regretted it. They knew not when another such opportunity would present itself or even whether there would be any occasion before their marriage upon which they could experience such bliss as they had this morning.

Darcy watched his beloved as she mounted the stairs to her bedchamber, waited until she had disappeared from sight, then bounded up the the stairs himself. He could not recall any time in his life when he had felt so completely happy. Regret and despair had been his constant companions this past year, and now, in the space of just one short week, everything had changed.

Elizabeth loved him. Elizabeth trusted him. Elizabeth desired him.

Just the remembrance of how she had expressed her desire threatened to trigger his arousal once again. I must not think of that now!

He forced himself to focus on more mundane matters.

Pemberley. Elizabeth will soon see it for the first time. I must return home to ensure my home...our home...is in readiness for Elizabeth.

I will speak to Mrs. Reynolds when I return. Our bedchamber must be a haven for the two of us, it must be made more inviting, more sumptuous. New bedding, fresh flowers. I have lived the life of a bachelor far too long, and my home needs a woman's touch.

Elizabeth's touch.

Such thoughts soon led to a remembrance of Elizabeth's literal touch, her soft hand grasping him, stroking him... the memory, understandably, brought about the same physical reaction as Elizabeth's touch had.

Good Lord! Will I ever be able to think clearly again? Or am I doomed to be in a constant state of tumescence until our marriage?

He determined he was in dire need of a bath and he summoned his valet. Luckily it was not his valet's place to question why his master required a second bath just hours after the one he had had upon awakening, and if he suspected the reason, he refrained from smiling until after he had left Darcy's presence.

Darcy sank down into the warm water and mentally envisioned the five weeks that remained until his marriage. Thirty-five days, and on the thirty-sixth day and every day thereafter, he would awaken with Elizabeth in his bed. He closed his eyes and gave free rein to his imagination. If she were his wife, at this very moment, would she tend to him in his bath? Kneel behind him so that she might knead his shoulders, kiss his neck, massage soap into his scalp, then rinse his head and body with warm water...

His valet coughed behind him. Darcy's eyes flew open.

"Are you ready to exit your bath, sir?"

"Yes, Andrews, thank you," he stammered, deliberately crossing his arms in his lap and leaning forward so that Andrews would not notice his uncomfortable condition as he poured a bucket of warm water over Darcy's head.

He stood so that Andrews could help him on with his robe, and Darcy hastily tied it closed.

"I will summon you when I require further assistance, Andrews," he said.

"Very good, sir," the valet responded, hiding his smile as he left the room.

Where is Elizabeth, and what is she doing now, he wondered dreamily. No doubt she has changed out of her soiled garments and is herself bathing...

No! He had to rein himself in, if he were to survive this day.

Draperies, he thought desperately. Lacy, delicate ones to reflect her femininity. A new carpet, in softer, muted colours. And an exquisite pianoforte, for her own use. The instrument she was accustomed to playing at Longbourn was old and out of tune.

It would have amused the Pemberley staff to know that their master, who had been satisfied to retain the same furnishings his parents had installed many years ago, was giving such minute consideration to their replacements. It was Darcy's intention to keep his mind innocuously occupied so that it would not stray in a more dangerous direction!

Elizabeth, for her part, had no such intentions. As she luxuriated in her bath, her mind was agreeably engaged with thoughts of her fiance. Specifically, she envisioned his body. She had never seen a man so intimately before and had nothing with which to compare what she had seen today, yet she instinctively knew that Fitzwilliam Darcy was an exceptionally beautiful specimen of a man. After their...and here she had the grace to blush...pinnacle of pleasure, he had stood and turned around as he pulled up his breeches, and she had gazed with curiosity upon his bare posterior. She had a vague feeling that the admiring arousal she had felt was somehow improper, that a true lady would have averted her eyes at such a sight.

She sighed at the memory. What a lovely sight it had been. His long, lean, taut body, such a contrast to her soft, womanly one. They had fit together so perfectly. And more important than how well they physically complemented each other, their sensual instincts had been in perfect harmony.

She did not have to wonder whether Darcy was thinking of her. She was certain he was. And now, they would have to go down to lunch and pretend that nothing improper had occurred between them. Darcy, she knew, would maintain a respectful distance in company, but now she knew who he truly was, and she was most satisfied in the knowledge that she had been able to draw out the man hidden beneath the proper aspect he presented to the world.

The thought both excited and awed her. That part of him will always be mine alone.

It happened that both Darcy and Elizabeth left their chambers to proceed downstairs to lunch at the same time.

"This is an unexpected pleasure, Mr. Darcy," Elizabeth said teasingly. "I had assumed your exertions of this morning had exhausted you so thoroughly that you would require a nap this afternoon."

"I am of a strong constitution, Elizabeth, and have recovered so well from this morning's exertions that I am more than prepared to exert myself once again. After you, my dear," he said, as they reached the top of the stairs.

As soon as she stepped ahead of him, he caught her from behind, his arms wrapped around her waist. He pressed up against her, and she murmured, "Ah, yes, Fitzwilliam, I can feel the evidence of your recovery!"

"Sit next to me at lunch," he demanded.

"I suppose it may well be safer to have you next to me than behind me."

"Perhaps," he said wickedly. "But do not rely upon it!"

Elizabeth soon learned that his words were no idle threat. Darcy took full advantage of their proximity during lunch to press his muscular thigh against her leg, then boldly crossed his foot over her ankle so as to nudge her legs apart.

His brazen action had the desired effect, to remind her of their interlude in the woods that morning. Elizabeth's eyes dropped to Darcy's lap, and she whispered, "Recovered, indeed!"

Caroline Bingley, sitting opposite them with Mr. Clifton, stared disapprovingly. Really, their behaviour was abominable! Elizabeth Bennet had obviously won Darcy's hand by allowing him liberties no true lady would allow.

"Miss Elizabeth, you and Mr. Darcy were missed this morning after breakfast. The two of you could have walked to Meryton and back in less time."

"Exercise is most beneficial, Miss Bingley," Darcy answered seriously, placing his hand on Elizabeth's knee under the table.

"Miss Eliza has always been an excellent walker," she said snidely. "I shall never forget the first time she appeared here at Netherfield, covered in mud, after walking nearly three miles."

"Nor shall I," Darcy responded. "I came upon her in the woods and she walked so briskly to the house I could not keep up with her." Perhaps because her appearance was so arousing, my breeches became uncomfortably snug and I found it difficult to walk!

"You had no difficulty keeping up with me this morning, Sir," Elizabeth said naughtily.

"Keeping up with you is a pleasure, Miss Elizabeth."

Caroline rolled her eyes. Truly, the pair of them were insufferable!

Mr. Clifton remained silent during this exchange, rather amused at Caroline's attempts to discomfit Elizabeth and Darcy, and the manner in which they, in turn, fielded her attempts with skill and good humour.

Bingley frowned. What was Caroline hinting? He had indeed noticed that Darcy and Elizabeth had been absent an inexplicably long time this morning, but he had attributed it to their desire to become better acquainted in private. Surely Darcy's fine sense of propriety would prevent him from compromising Elizabeth in any way.

Still, Bingley well remembered the frustration of his own courtship and betrothal to Jane, and how close they had come on more than occasion to crossing the line of what was permissible for a couple who was engaged but not yet married. And while he did have some sympathy for Darcy's predicament, he felt it his duty as Elizabeth's brother-in-law to have a frank conversation with his friend.

Bingley observed Darcy that evening as he stared at Elizabeth. Elizabeth's eyes rose slowly to meet Darcy's, and Darcy, a glimmer of a smile on his lips, deliberately dropped his gaze so that it rested briefly upon Elizabeth's ample cleavage. Elizabeth, to Bingley's surprise, did not appear disturbed by Darcy's blatant ogling of her figure; rather she smiled seductively back at him when he raised his eyes to look once again at her face. It was as though, Bingley thought, they had momentarily become unaware there was anyone else in the room.

Darcy finally caught himself when Bingley gazed at him curiously. He coughed slightly and turned, moving in the direction of the window.
"I say, Darcy, might I have a word with you? In private?"

Darcy sighed. "Of course, Charles." The two young men left the room.

Jane approached her sister and laughed.

"I am afraid my husband is going to take poor Mr. Darcy to task for his blatant displays of affection, Lizzy," she whispered, so that Caroline might not overhear.

"Surely we are allowed a bit of flirtation, are we not, now that we are engaged?"

"Charles fears the two of you may be on the verge of going beyond flirtation, Lizzy."

"And if we were?" Elizabeth asked defiantly.

"He has appointed himself your protector, Lizzy! As we have no brothers and Father is...well you know Papa's ways."

"I am not in need of protection, Jane. I welcome Mr. Darcy's attentions."

"Lizzy! It is less than five weeks until your wedding. Charles is concerned, that is all."

"These five weeks cannot pass quickly enough! Oh, Jane, how I long for..." and here Lizzy stopped, embarrassed to continue.

"I understand, Lizzy, believe me, I do. What you long for is quite wonderful, and it is worth waiting for."

"Fear not, Jane. It is unlikely Mr. Darcy and I will have much opportunity to conduct ourselves in a less than exemplary manner!"

"And that is for the best, Lizzy. Come, let us sit down for coffee."

Some time later, Darcy and Bingley returned. Bingley appeared serious, Darcy even more so. Darcy seated himself across the table from Elizabeth, determined to keep his eyes focused above her neck. Even so, he could not help staring at her, captivated by her every smile, her every word, her every expression. More than once, his thoughts drifted to their intimacy of the morning, and each time he forced himself to direct his mind in a less stimulating direction.

Elizabeth was so puzzled by his ever-changing expressions that she finally leaned forward and asked, "Fitzwilliam! You are so quiet. Of what are you thinking?"

He blinked and gave what Elizabeth considered a most surprising response.
"Draperies."

Chapter 18

Charles had strongly suggested to Darcy that he leave Netherfield for Pemberley so that he and Elizabeth would not be subjected to so much temptation. It was obvious that theirs was a passionate attachment, and Charles could not condone the prospect of such goings-on under his roof.

"Please, Darcy, understand that this is for the best. Elizabeth is Jane's sister, and you are like a brother to me. I believe it is best that the two of you be at a comfortable distance from each other. It would not be fair to have Elizabeth return to Longbourn at this juncture, as Jane delights in her company and welcomes her assistance in caring for baby Charles. I am sure there are matters at Pemberley requiring your attention, preparations to be made for your marriage. Elizabeth will remain here at Netherfield for a fortnight, and then you may call upon her at Longbourn when she returns there."

"Well, thank you, Bingley, for arranging my life so neatly. Has it not occurred to you that I do not desire to be separated from Elizabeth for two entire weeks?"

"And has it not occurred to you, my friend, that your attentions to Elizabeth are bordering alarmingly on the improper? I observed the way you looked at her this afternoon, and you may be assured that if I noticed, others did as well. If you have no concern for your own reputation, you might at least have some for hers. There are those who deem her an unsuitable wife for you...yes, you know it is so, Darcy! There was a time when you thought so yourself, you cannot deny it. Why give her detractors fodder for scandalous gossip?"

Darcy was surprised by his friend's perceptiveness. And Bingley thought Darcy's attentions bordered on the improper? He shuddered to think what Bingley would say of his activities that morning, which had crossed any and all possible borders of propriety!

"Perhaps you are right, Bingley."

Bingley nodded. "It is imperative that you control yourself this one last evening, Darcy, in particular because my sister is in the house. There is no one with a greater love for gossip than Caroline, I am afraid, and I am saddened to admit that I suspect she would take delight in besmirching Elizabeth's reputation."

"Point taken, Bingley."

"No hard feelings, Darcy?"

"None at all, Charles."

"A fortnight will pass quickly, as you will be occupied with Pemberley and Elizabeth with helping Jane with the baby. And just think what a joyful reunion you will have at the end of those two weeks."

"Charles, rather than calling upon Elizabeth at Longbourn, I desire that she visit Pemberley before our marriage. If you will allow it, of course," Darcy said drily.

"I can hardly prevent it, Darcy! You would have no objection to our accompanying her?"

"Of course not. By all means, you are welcome as well."

It struck Charles that a subtle reversal of roles had taken place between himself and Darcy. It had always been Darcy who had directed Bingley's actions, influencing him, generally for good, except in the most important matter of his courtship of Jane Bennet. In that instance, Darcy had allowed his snobbery to dictate how he exercised his considerable influence on Bingley.

Now it was Charles, in essence Elizabeth's "brother," who had the upper hand. Truth be told, he was rather enjoying the sensation of having a measure of temporary control over Mr. Darcy.

And he had no regrets whatsoever about exercising that control. Giving Darcy a small dose of his own medicine was not unpleasant! In fact, it was downright satisfying.

It was agreed that in two weeks' time, Elizabeth would set out for Pemberley, accompanied by Charles and Caroline Bingley. Jane thought it better that she remain at Netherfield with the baby. Darcy graciously asked that Mr. Clifton accompany them as well, his ulterior motive being that Clifton might be useful in keeping Caroline Bingley at a distance from himself and Elizabeth. Their visit would be brief, its purpose being to introduce Elizabeth to Pemberley and its staff, and they planned to return together to Hertfordshire. Darcy would spend the week before the wedding at Netherfield, and Lizzy at Longbourn. Bingley was satisfied that these arrangements would protect Lizzy's honour while allowing Darcy the pleasure of her company, properly chaperoned, during the days preceding their marriage.

Darcy, despite Charles's warnings and because of their impending separation, did manage one last romantic tryst with Elizabeth during his final night at Netherfield. He lay awake in bed, wondering how he would survive not seeing his beloved for a fortnight, and he sensed that her feelings were similar to his. When he had told her earlier in the evening of his plans to return to Pemberley, not revealing that he was in large measure forced into it by Charles, he had seen the sadness in her eyes. He found himself comforting her, while secretly gladdened that she would feel the separation as keenly as he would.

So he felt certain that she would welcome his presence that night. It was nearly 2 a.m., the house utterly still, when he gently knocked upon her bedchamber door. Lizzy came to the door so quickly, he knew she had not been asleep.
"I could not sleep for wanting you, William," she said simply. "Please come in."

"Lizzy," he whispered. "I do not dare to enter your room. Charles warned me in no uncertain terms this evening against taking liberties."

"You do not take them, William. I give them."

"Bless you for that, my dearest love. But I cannot allow you to become the subject of idle gossip, and I fear my ardour may have already contributed to speculation."

"Then why do you seek me out now, William?"

"Because I need to hold you, Lizzy. Closely, intimately, when you are not covered with so many superfluous layers of clothing!"

"I fear my wardrobe will suffer as your wife, William, as you will prefer me half dressed at all times!"

"I own that I would, Lizzy. Even the lightest of nightdresses, as you wear now, conceals too much. Would that I could remove it and carry you to bed."

Elizabeth was in his arms in an instant.

"You know, do you not, that my own wishes are identical to yours?" she asked.

"Yes," he said huskily. "I cannot express how much that means to me, Elizabeth."

He leaned down to kiss her, holding her tightly against his body. Her nearness, her scent, her warm breath on his face, were intoxicating. He was sorely tempted to follow through with his wish to take her to bed, Charles Bingley and the rest of the world be damned. He would marry her tomorrow if need be!

But then he remembered Charles's warning, that those who thought he was marrying beneath him would delight in Elizabeth's reputation being tainted. So in the end, he satisfied himself with a passionate kiss and embrace because he loved Elizabeth so much, he could not bear the thought of his love causing her a moment's grief or censure.

"When finally I make love to you, Lizzy, as you deserve to be loved, it will be with the blessing of God and the Church, at Pemberley, where we may lock the door and shut out the world. I shan't let you out of bed for two weeks, to compensate for the coming two weeks I will be without you!"

"That seems fair compensation, Sir," Elizabeth answered with a smile. She reached up to stroke his cheek, then wrapped her arms around his waist. As he kissed her again, her hands moved downward, pressing against his bottom so firmly that they were both keenly cognizant of the fact that only two cotton night garments separated the most intimate parts of their bodies.
"I dare say you are not thinking of draperies now, Fitzwilliam?"

"Definitely not."

"Of what are you thinking, then?"

"I am thinking of the fine summer morning, five weeks hence, when you will take me as your wedded husband, Lizzy."

"And of the night that will follow, my love?" she whispered.

"I think of that constantly," he replied, thrilling to the sound of her sweet voice, calling him my love.

He held her more tightly. "I have never loved anyone as fervently as I do you, Lizzy. I fear sometimes that you are an illusion, that I will awaken and my loneliness and despair will return."

She softly kissed his bare throat. "Were you really so very unhappy, William?"

It was difficult for him to speak of it.

"During the year we were separated, most particularly the first few months, I couldthink of nothing but you. I knew I had been shown the way to happiness and lost it...lost you. I went away because I could not bear to be at Pemberley. Everything I did there, everything I saw...I wanted you there with me, as my wife, and I was certain it would never be so. Even though you had never been there, I felt your absence, because in my heart, I knew it was where you belonged."

Elizabeth was touched by his poignant admission.

"Do not dwell on the past, William. Think of it no more. We are together now and all is true and wonderful between us; never did I think I could be so at ease with any man. You are the partner of my soul."

Because of her simple words and one long, tender kiss, what remained of Darcy's anxiety melted away. Elizabeth loved him, as devotedly and completely as he loved her. He could face anything now, even the two weeks without her that loomed ahead.

And when the two weeks had ended, she would be at Pemberley. The woman dearest to his heart, at the place he loved best in the world.