Chapter 17

Georgiana was very much enjoying seeing her friend carefully circumnavigate every biting attack that Caroline sent her way, but she feared that the conversation was becoming wearing, so suggested a game amongst all of the party members. Rummy was readily agreed to, the tables prepared, and an enjoyable half hour passed in gentle conversation and light competition. Mr Darcy had managed to orchestrate a seat next to Elizabeth, such that if he angled his legs in a certain way they could feel the pleasant warmth of each others' touch through their clothes. It was such delightful torment that he was almost unable to concentrate on the cards he needed to complete his set. However, almost is not the same as unable.

He found that Elizabeth withdrew from him a degree of competitiveness that meant he refused to allow his focus to linger too long on her. He tried to concentrate on his hand in spite of her biting of her lip in concentration, or her sweet smile when she passed a card to him, or the tantalising friction of her leg brushing against his, or the delicate curve of her chest when she leant over to pick up a card. He tried, somewhat unsuccessfully, to pull his eyes away from her person - for he was not yet ready to announce their understanding to the Bingleys and he liked to uphold his reputation as a reserved and sensible gentleman - regardless of how ungentlemanly he felt in her presence.

Having very much enjoyed the game of cards, Georgiana suggested a continuation of their afternoon fun. And remembering how it had allowed a great deal of quiet in the midst of a noisy afternoon with the Gardiners, she suggested a game which might allow her friend some time alone with her brother. "When Elizabeth stayed at Pemberley, we played a most enjoyable game of sardines."

Elizabeth immediately blushed and looked at the floor, whilst Mr Darcy smiled in anticipation.

"Perhaps it will help you to find your bearings in your new home, Mr Bingley, if we seek out some of the quieter corners using this game?" Georgiana giggled cheekily.

"Find my bearings, what a humorous idea." Mr Bingley proceeded to check his understanding of the game and its rules, before agreeing wholeheartedly to the merriment.

Elizabeth, sensitive to the groups of relative strangers, threw a glance at her sister before suggesting that if anyone should like to sit out of this particular game, perhaps Jane could explain the rules of a new card game their uncle had taught them over the summer. Jane shot her a grateful glance before asking who would like to join her. Louisa and Mr Hurst were not enamoured by the idea of leaving the comfort of the settee, and thus a cards party and a sardines party were readily determined.

Caroline quickly volunteered herself to hide first, in the hopes that Mr Darcy would be the first to find her. So transparent was her motive that Mr Bingley gave his friend a sheepishly apologetic look.

"Do not worry yourself, Charles," came the genial response from his friend.

Elizabeth declined to comment, whilst in truth she felt that Mr Bingley should very much overstretch himself to draw his sister away from her designs on Mr Darcy. The gentleman in question noticed her indignance and subtly brushed his hand against her back. She thrilled at his touch.

When the time came for seeking Miss Bingley, Georgiana gave Lizzy an encouraging nod and then gave a cry of "ready or not, here we come" and immediately took off at pace up the stairs. Mr Bingley followed hot on her heels.

Mr Darcy bowed to Elizabeth in a faux gentleman-like manner and murmured in a low voice, "after you, my l-"

He was interrupted by a rush of air and the feeling of cotton whipping past his calf as Elizabeth took off running past him. Whilst he did not wish to be the first to find Miss Bingley, he did wish to catch up with Elizabeth whilst the party were otherwise engaged.

It did not take long to find her, noisily cluttering around the dining room, looking behind curtains with great zeal.

"Hah," he said triumphantly. "I found you."

"It is not me you are meant to be seeking, Fitzwilliam," she replied teasingly.

Hearing her say his name, even without the arch look she wore, was enough to make a much lesser man capitulate. He let go of the breath he was holding, took three long and purposeful strides her way and kissed her soundly on the mouth. There was no preamble. He had not tasted her for days and he sorely needed her. Upon their lips meeting, she hesitated for a fraction of a second before surrendering. And it was delicious.

Acutely aware that either Georgiana or Mr Bingley could come searching in the dining room at any time, he reluctantly released her after what felt like a scant few seconds. He thrilled at the raised colour in her cheeks and the wicked look in her eyes. Worried at how wild his voice would sound if he tried to speak, he instead remained silent and made a show of returning to searching for Miss Bingley. She surprised him with a brief embrace from behind, and before he knew what she was about, she ran briskly from the room to search in the library. He stood, dumbfounded, before heading off in the opposite direction.

Elizabeth could still hear the other two upstairs, so she knew that the game was very much still afoot. It was highly likely that Miss Bingley could be found by her or Mr Darcy. She cringed at the thought of her Fitzwilliam being alone with Miss Bingley, and it spurred her faster towards ensuring that she instead found Caroline first. And the extra energy proved to do the trick, for not three minutes later, she saw a curtain in the library move in a fashion that did not seem overly wind-driven. Upon lifting the curtain to one side, she found Miss Bingley posing in a very lewd manner.

"Oh, it's you," she said disappointedly, and righted her posture and her clothing. Elizabeth did not harbour some hidden desire to spend longer alone with Miss Bingley than was absolutely necessary, so she did not remark upon the loudness of Caroline's tone when they were supposed to be hiding quietly.

"You seem to have found an excellent hiding spot, Caroline," Elizabeth whispered.

"Thank you, Eliza," Caroline drawled at her regular speaking tone. It did not take long for first Mr Darcy and then his sister to find the hiding spot. By the time poor Mr Bingley arrived, he had performed a thorough inspection of above half of his rooms, and stumbled into the library to the rather hysterical sight of one overstuffed curtain and one regular one. The overstuffed one had all of the grace of a large cow as it disassembled itself to the end of the game. All hidden parties revealed themselves, and one glance between Mr Bingley and his friend revealed just how difficult Mr Darcy was finding it to be held in close quarters with the woman he so admired and also to not be alone. So Mr Bingley took great pleasure in teasing his usually sombre friend with his next words.

"You all seem quite cosy behind the curtain," he said, met with unanimous blushes from all four of the others. Looking at their proximity to his sister, he jumped to conclusions in his desire to see Mr Darcy squirm.

"Miss Elizabeth, please correct me if I am mistaken, but if I have understood the rules correctly, I believe it is your turn to hide next - since you found Miss Bingley first."

"Correct you are on both counts, Mr Bingley. Let me see, I suppose you can all stay here and count to one hundred. I shall see you soon, I am sure," the last was said to the room at large but with a quirk of her eyebrow reserved for her betrothed. She hoped he would understand her meaning.

~.~

The weather had been unseasonably mild that morning, such that she had felt comfortably warm in her dress and shawl and had removed her pelisse upon entering the great house. She had unknowingly found her future hiding spot on the way to the door. Hoping above hope that Fitzwilliam, and Fitzwilliam alone, would find her here due to their previous outing in this silly game, she found a quiet spot under the front steps and waited.

Much to her relief, it did not take him long to find her. He had waited until everyone else was occupied in different indoor rooms before sneaking out quietly, taking a coat from the hook by the door in hopes he was right and in case she was cold.

She heard his distinctly male footsteps just after the quiet creak and thud of the door opening and closing. Her heart beat in anticipation as she heard his steady descent. Step by solid step, she felt him growing closer until, at last, he came into view.

She resisted the urge to draw towards him, or the urge to call out to him, instead relishing the view from her hiding spot. She rather enjoyed being able to admire his lower half, especially the picture he made when he settled onto his haunches and peered down under the opposite stair arch. Her heart lurched at the shrug of disappointment she saw when he did not find her there, but she quickly recovered at the broad smile that replaced his disappointment when he at last peered into her small pocket of hiding space.

A look of such delight graced his features when he spied her under the wide curve of the alcove. Her whole being radiated mischief, her eyes glowing with the great secret that was her love for him. Such trust he had never before known, and he told her as much.

"My dearest," he kissed her cheek, "loveliest," he kissed her other cheek, "Elizabeth," he graced her nose with a teasing peck. "How accomplished you are, to have found such a quiet hiding spot where no one will find us."

She chuckled quietly, and he felt the expulsion of her sweet breath on his face.

"I am so glad to find craftiness as yet another addendum to add to your many wonderful talents, my love," he said, sotto voce. His voice was a soft melody in her ear, calming and exciting her in equal measure as he squeezed into the tight space with her and then squeezed her hand.

"I wonder who discovered the power of flattery at overpowering truth," she paused, and he settled into his cramped space by her side. "For you lace your words in such adulation that I may be permitted to forget that craftiness is often used to malign members of the fairer sex." she said, with a tug to his arm that aligned him with her soft curves and belied any slight she may have felt in being called crafty. "So I shall take your praise at face value, and attempt to prevent it from massaging my ego overmuch." Instead, she attempted to use her craftier side to encourage him to melt into her softness. It was a fate to which he enthusiastically surrendered.

What followed was a delightful reprise of their more tentative time together at Pemberley. Holding the assurance of her warm feelings for him, the nervousness which had so characterised his time as host to her party completely disappeared. Chief in his feelings was instead a glorious anticipation and deep-seated joy. As they shared the tiny space under the stairs, she was so close to him, and indeed so close to being his. He allowed the heady feeling of her to wash over him, bathing in her touch wherever they were connected and drowning in her overpowering scent as she offered herself to him.

What began as a chaste and gentle kiss and innocent embrace very quickly transpired into feverish grasping over fully clothed bodies. The intimate bubble she had found for them afforded him a recklessness, and her a boldness, which they had not previously permitted an exploration thereof. As her dear Fitzwilliam continued to take liberties of her person, Elizabeth felt a deep warmth building. Of this crescendo she was not quite familiar, and understood enough of it only to know - with a great degree of certainty - that she did not want him to stop, not ever.

But stop he did. Somehow, he managed to will himself away from that which he most wanted. He felt his senses carrying him away to a much too intimate place for such a physical space as they were in. It was not lost on him that they could be happened upon - by either the party of seekers, or a poor servant - at any moment. His lust-clouded brain had just enough decorum to see the fog from the trees, and he used every ounce of his willpower to redirect his hands from their exploration of her shapely figure to her shoulders and to distance their lips by laying his forehead on hers. He rested it there for a moment, their heavy breathing the only sound he heard. She let out a soft whimper, and he almost came undone again.

"My love," he spoke, his low voice strained with the effort of keeping his hands from rediscovering her responsive form. "I must apologise, you bestow upon me such sacred trust and I-"

She silenced him with a gentle peck on his lips, which was met with a groan of surrender. It took another minute until they once again parted breathlessly.

"There is no such sacred trust as you giving yourself to me, Fitzwilliam."

He was to marry the most generous woman in the whole of Christendom. God, he wished that their marriage could be brought forward. He knew that by the time the banns were read and all of the preparations designed, he would have been in this prolonged state of anticipation for months.

"I am glad you feel that way," he replied with a genuine smile and a gentle caress of her neck, which sent very real goosebumps chasing her spine. "But be that as it may. I should not take such advantage of your generous nature whilst we are still unwed. I must apologise, and ask for your forgiveness. My willpower is not quite as strong as my desire for you, but I will adhere to my promises to remain a gentleman."

"Perhaps a young woman may be forgiven for occasionally wishing her intended to be somewhat ungentlemanly in his conduct," she teased. Before he could moan a gentle surrender and become carried away again, she conceded, "although perhaps she should have saved that statement until after her intended becomes her husband."

"Perhaps," he said in a strangled tone. He knew with her inexperience, this was the closest he would be for a long time to a declaration of want from her. It was to his advantage that she had pushed past the trepidation that young ladies often felt in discussing such matters, and he errantly thought it boded well for their future happiness that she felt she could raise such desires with him. But chief in his thoughts was the feeling of disbelief. That someone could want him in that manner was a novel feeling. And there was a deep joy to be found in the knowledge that it was such a charming delight of a woman who felt that way.

"And perhaps we should suspend this delightful torment until a more practical application of those wants and desires may take place," he managed to articulate. "For I am worried I have already undone the hard work of your ladies maid on your hair. And I should re-tie my cravat before I silently slip back into the search for you inside."

She regretfully agreed with his assessment, reaching up to tidy his errant curls, which had been dislodged to his great satisfaction as he had been enjoying her in their quiet interlude. Such a small act of domestic bliss he had seen his mother gift to his father on numerous occasions. His chest tightened and he became slightly overcome at the memory. Lizzy picked up instantly on the pinching of his breathing and the slight wetness in the corner of his eyes. She did not understand the source of his quiet distress, but nonetheless she held him comfortingly for the duration, and placed such a tender kiss on his hairline when he resurfaced that he felt completely afloat in her comforting embrace. The contrast to their earlier feverish contact was not lost on him, and his heart swelled at the knowledge that she was so responsive to all of his needs. He hoped to be the same source of comfort and pleasure to her.

A first attempt at the Herculean task of fulfilling this most ardent of hopes, he bestowed upon her the warm coat he had sourced on his way out of doors. She gratefully accepted and wore it as a blanket. It was indeed a great comfort to her, staving away the crisp air in covering her exposed skin. And it smelled of him. She supposed that his scent was equal parts comfort and pleasure, and quite enjoyed herself on the reminiscence of his closeness that the distinct smell of his cologne suffused into his clothing afforded.