This story is smutty, bisexual, and yes, Elizabeth will have sex with both Col. Fitzwilliam and Darcy. It will be very different than the other stories I have written and is basically JAFF smut with a slight plot. It is fine if that is not your thing. I do not need tons of guest reviews telling me it is not your thing. You can simply not read it.
Colonel Richard Fitzwilliam was quite certain he was damned to hell. How could he not be? He was sitting at his cousin Darcy's wedding breakfast, watching him and his new wife flirt with each other, and all Richard could think was how bloody fortunate Darcy was. He was handsome. He was rich and powerful. He was now married to the most beautiful and beguiling woman either of them had encountered. Richard had never truly begrudged Darcy the two former, although Richard knew that if he had been even a tenth as rich as Darcy, he would have long ago made the former Elizabeth Bennet his wife. And he wouldn't have insulted her family in making the proposal.
Eight months ago, Richard was quite surprised when he had the opportunity to meet Elizabeth Bennet and was astounded by her remarkable beauty and wit. Despite this, he was painfully aware that as the second son, he would only be able to rely on five hundred pounds a year and whatever generosity his father offered. If Richard had defied his father and offered for a penniless country gentleman's daughter, he could not count on the latter and his income was not enough to live on. Not, at least, for a lady who was used to more.
He knew that his family would never have let him become homeless, even if they disliked his bride. They would not be willing to support Elizabeth as she deserved, though. They would have a meager existence, possibly living in leased lodgings somewhere in a less than ideal area of London or living with Darcy. That was no life for a wife and children. Consequently, he informed Elizabeth Bennet that he desired an heiress, which was not entirely untruthful. Nevertheless, if Miss Bennet had possessed a dowry of even five or ten thousand pounds, he would have proposed marriage to her. He may have accepted her teasing that he wished for someone with fifty thousand, but that was only for ladies of Miss Bingley's ilk. For Miss Bennet, he was willing to sacrifice the comfort of the luxurious lifestyle he had become accustomed to.
Richard drained the last of the drink from his glass. He could feel his heart breaking as he watched the happy couple embrace. He was genuinely delighted for them, but he was overwhelmed by the atmosphere and his emotions. With an excuse that he was needed at the war office in London, he quickly departed. Darcy and Elizabeth were sorry to see him go, but he had to.
The following day, Richard's superior called him to his office with the intention of speaking in private. Richard had anticipated that something like this would take place, as he had been made aware that he was due for a promotion after his role at Zujar, but the timing was advantageous.
In certain recent skirmishes, there was evidence to suggest that the French had inside knowledge on the British Army's movements. It was understood that each side had spies, but the extent of this knowledge was extraordinary. It was probable that one or multiple officers in the regiments who had taken part in the latest conflicts were supplying intelligence to the French. In his capacity as a colonel and while still fulfilling his duties, it was imperative for Richard to identify the traitors and immediately report the information to the military office. If he was successful in achieving his goals, he would be given the rank of general, and more than likely would be given a knighthood or some other form of title in recognition of his accomplishments.
Richard was thankful to be given the opportunity to accept the assignment and be able to leave London and the presence of Mrs. Darcy. It was his hope that while in Spain, he could find a woman who would help him forget the beautiful eyes and lips that lingered in his thoughts at night.
"Dear God, you are tight," Richard moaned as he drove his cock into her.
She pressed her hips back against him, wanting more of him. Then he pushed down on her shoulders, so her succulent arse was all he saw in the dim light. He groaned, pulling nearly fully out of her before ramming back in. His body moved in a steady rhythm as she arched and swayed beneath him.
"God, you feel so good, Lizzy."
The lady gasped, but it did not matter. Richard was about to spend. He pulled his cock out of her at the last possible moment. His seed spurted out, covering her bottom and back.
"My name is Penelope," said the woman with a huff as she left the bed and went to the washbasin to call for her maid.
Richard regretted calling out the wrong name, but the only motive behind his decision to make this woman his mistress was due to her resemblance to Elizabeth. One could not blame him for an occasional slip in the heat of the moment.
"I meant to say Ellie," said Richard. He had tried to address Penelope with the pet name, which was also sometimes bestowed upon ladies named Elizabeth, but it was not the name that came to his mind during passionate interludes.
Penelope was boiling with rage as she stomped to her dressing area, her fists clenched at her sides. His seed still dripped from her buttocks, which limited the effect of her anger on him.
He lay back on the bed, closing his eyes and feeling the softness of the sheets beneath him. He never behaved in a disrespectful manner towards his mistress, unlike some men. He tried to make sure she had her pleasure as well. He paid her as much as he was able to, though she had to inhabit a home with his younger brothers' mistresses, which could be uncomfortable at times. He could have given Penelope a run-down house in the rougher part of the city, but he felt it would be disrespectful to a lady, even a fallen lady such as Ellie, to allow her to live there. Instead, she was able to live in a small townhouse with the women his three younger brothers kept on a street where their nearest neighbours were a law clerk and a stationer.
Richard was aware that he should acquire a present for Ellie to atone for his verbal blunder. Last time that he had been in her black books, he had bought her a diamond bracelet. It had cost a hefty sum, but he had only just received his quarterly allowance and could therefore afford it. It was now three weeks until his next allowance would come, so he had few feathers to fly with.
He would need to request a loan from Henry. His younger brother had a greater aptitude for money management than he, yet he was not miserly. He was always willing to give a loan, so long as he had it in writing that Richard would pay him back on the next quarter day.
"Close that gap!" Richard shouted over the sound of horses, gunfire, cannons, and the groans of the dying.
Several men obeyed without looking up or even acknowledging that he had spoken besides with their actions. The sound of clashing swords rang in the air as they fought to reposition themselves to ensure that the French could not advance through their line. Richard's horse became startled as the French soldier he had assumed to be dead suddenly rolled over and held up a knife, causing the horse to rear. The horse stomped down on the man's chest, finishing him before he could injure the animal.
"Behind you, Culver!" Richard cried, as one of his men was crept up on by an enemy. Richard would have shot the French soldier, but he did not yet have good enough control of his horse to shoot straight. With a swift and sudden turn, Captain Culver suddenly faced the enemy soldier, the sound of metal against metal ringing out.
Suddenly, Richard was overwhelmed by a sharp, intense pain in his leg. When he looked down, he saw that the grey fabric of his breeches had quickly changed to a deep burgundy colour in the area where the pain was originating. I've been shot, Richard thought, quite detached. His eyesight was becoming unclear, and he sensed his horse registering the change in his balance. Just as all went black, he could see a pair of dark green eyes in the face of a beautiful woman.
Richard slowly got out of bed, lamenting his injured leg. The pain in his leg had kept him awake all night, and the nightmares that haunted him had only made it worse. It had been a long time since the battle that had disabled him and for which he had received a baronetcy.
He had been successful in finding the turncoats in his midst, especially since it had been one of them who had shot him. He had known Hansson to be a turncoat before the battle, and he suspected that Hansson had learned of Richard's position as well. It was not the right time to expose him, however. Not the day before an important battle. Richard quickly shifted tactics, aware that the French had probably already garnered any information Hansson could have given them. It had caused some confusion, but they had won the battle. Had Richard been conscious, the joy of the victory would have been much greater for him.
Richard released a heavy sigh, not wanting to dwell any further on the horrors of the battles he had taken part in or the terrible orders he had given. After freshening up and donning his clothes, he was greeted by the delightful scent of breakfast as he descended the stairs. From the sideboard in the breakfast room, he took a plate for himself and asked the footman politely to bring him a cup of coffee. The footman obeyed and followed the instructions, meticulously preparing the coffee just the way Richard liked it.
"Good morning, Sir Richard," said Elizabeth in a teasing voice when she entered the breakfast room. When he stood up and bowed in response to her curtsey, he could not help but roll his eyes at her insistence on using his title.
"No need to use my title," Richard said.
"I know I do not, but it rankles you when I do."
"Mayhap I should ask you to use it and then you would not," said Richard.
"No, not when I know your motive for doing so," she teased.
God, she was lovely. He particularly adored when she teased him, her eyes twinkling with mirth. Richard was not certain how much longer he could stay at Pemberley. It was one thing to lust after Elizabeth when he was in London, France, or Spain, far from the actual lady. It was quite another to lust after her when she was in the same house as him. Darcy had been observing him recently, in particular when Richard and Elizabeth conversed. He had a suspicion that his cousin was aware of his feelings for Elizabeth.
Elizabeth has recently gained a few pounds, enhancing her shape. He knew from Elizabeth's demeanour when she looked in the looking glass that she was not fond of these extra pounds, but Richard thought they made her all the more sensual. Her breasts were a little larger and her hips a little broader. She had truly come into womanhood. It had not been so much weight that she was required to buy new gowns, so her current ones were a little tighter and her decolletage more prominent. It took all of Richard's energy when he spoke to Elizabeth to keep himself from staring at her lovely, full bosom.
Elizabeth sat down with her food at the table. Richard noticed that she had only porridge and fruit, which disappointed him. He hoped she did not wish to lose the pounds she had gained.
Darcy entered the room shortly after his wife, greeting them both. They three ate together, talking of the amusements of the day and the ball that Lady Matlock was throwing in two days' time. Richard was not certain he would attend, as the crowds in ballrooms sometimes became too loud and clamourous, too much like battle.