This scene should be read at the end of Chapter 23.

After the ball Mr. Collins proposed to Elizabeth and was refused. Her refusal caused a stir, Mrs. Bennet insisted that Elizabeth must accept him, while Mr. Bennet supported her choice. Mr. Collins lost little time and proposed to, and was accepted by Charlotte Lucas only a few days later. He took his leave of Longbourn with promises to return shortly.

Elizabeth searched her drawers in pursuit of one of her muslin frocks. She had recently purchased a length of braided trim that she thought would compliment it perfectly. When her search was unsuccessful she thought it would be prudent to look in Lydia's room, knowing it to be a garment that Lydia had frequently requested to borrow. She knew if she asked her about it Lydia would deny taking it. Lydia and Kitty were in the garden with their mother, and she could hear Mary practicing at the piano. Now was the perfect time to look.

She entered the room her youngest three sisters shared and went to Lydia's trunk. When she opened it she found a mess indeed. The space was overstuffed with various articles of clothing, tangled ribbons, half finished mending, and crumpled papers. Elizabeth spotted her purloined dress and pulled it from the collection, distressed by its neglected state. She was already forming her chastisement of Lydia when she felt something shake loose from the bundle and fall onto the floor, a small book.

Elizabeth wondered at it, considering that Lydia was no great reader. She picked it up and read the title, "The Suitor." It was not a work she was familiar with. It had not come from their father's collection, nor the lending library. She opened it and perused one of its pages. Her eyes widened, instantly shocked by what she had read. She snapped it closed abruptly and glanced to the door, eager to assure herself that she would not be discovered with such an insidious item. She folded the book inside the dress in her hands and quickly retreated back to the privacy of her and Jane's room.

When she opened the book again, she found a small note tucked inside the cover.

L,

I hope you find this one to your liking, it is a particular favourite of mine.

H.

The dress forgotten, Elizabeth began to read, justifying to herself that she only meant to ascertain what dangers Lydia had been exposed to. It was a novel, a tale of lovers. The style of writing, though lacking sophistication, was nevertheless enthralling due to its nefarious content.

The heroine was a young heiress, highly esteemed for both her beauty and wealth. She was the prize of the London season. Though suitors abounded, she had eyes for one alone, the Earl. He returned her affections, though he was already wed to another. Elizabeth could not help but blush as she read of their exploits, the author spared no detail. She found it very provoking.

Her attention was torn from the page when she heard a door slam below. There was Lydia and Kitty's loud boisterous laughter, and footsteps on the stairs as they returned into the house. Then Jane's gentle voice was heard, entreating them to calm. Elizabeth quickly closed the book and tucked it under the corner of the mattress. She just had time to smooth the bedclothes before Jane entered, eager to share a letter she had just received from their Aunt Gardiner.

Later that evening after supper Elizabeth cornered Lydia in the hallway.

"I went into your room today to retrieve my yellow frock, but I found something else."

"Lizzy! You have no right to touch my things." Lydia protested.

"Like you did when you took it without my consent?"

"I only wanted to borrow it, I was going to give it back," she said haughtily, then in a voice more suspicious "-wait, what did you find?"

"A book, which you have no business reading," Elizabeth quietly hissed out. "Who gave you such a thing?"

"La! Don't be silly, it was Harriet... Mrs. Forster, she is my particular friend, you know. I am so glad she has taken me under her instruction. She's taught me scores more than Mama ever has about getting a good husband."

"Nonsense! What are you talking about? Where did she get it, and why on earth would she give it to you?"

Lydia covered her mouth, stifling a giggle.

"Why, from her husband, Colonel Forster of course."

Elizabeth was astonished. "But why would he give something like that to her?"

"Lizzy, one would think you as prudish as Mary," Lydia scoffed. "Not every couple is as unhappy in marriage as Mama and Papa. There are some women who actually enjoy the attentions of their husbands. With a bit of luck, and Harriet's advisement, I hope to find such a one. Colonel Forster encourages Harriet to read the most scandalous things. It excites him to have a randy wife."

"Lydia! For God's sake, don't say such things."

"Why not? It's the truth! Why does everyone always insist on being so serious all the time? Just like that stuffy old Mr. Collins, -you saved yourself there Lizzy. I'm so glad for your sake that you refused him. Now give me back my book."

"No, and don't you dare think of telling Mama on me for taking it, or I'll tell Papa what it is and he'll forbid you to ever see Mrs. Forster again."

"It's not fair!" Lydia stomped off into the drawing room in a huff, leaving Elizabeth alone. After their exchange she did not feel equal to sitting tranquilly with the rest of her family.

"Lizzy, I saw Lydia pass this way, have you quarrelled with her? Are you alright, you look as flushed as you did this afternoon," Jane said, with concern as she approached Elizabeth.

"It's nothing. We did quarrel, but I am alright…. I just want a bit of quiet. Please tell my mother that I went to bed."

Elizabeth turned and walked up the stairs to their room, leaving Jane behind her. She was completely nonplussed by what she had learned from Lydia. She recalled the brief description her mother had given respecting marital relations. The two perspectives were greatly at odds. Her mother had said that a wife was expected to be compliant, regardless of her feelings. She had implied that performing one's wifely duties was an unpleasant but necessary burden. Was it instead something like what she had read in Lydia's book? Her mind reeled with the faces of every married couple she could think of. Comparing their supposed relative happiness, ending on her friend Charlotte. What would marriage bring for her? Dear dear Charlotte, she lamented, to be the wife of such a man.

Elizabeth found herself markedly more appreciative of her father for the role he played in supporting her refusal of Mr. Collins. She understood it was because he could not bear to force his favourite daughter into the same unhappy state that he suffered in his own marriage. She had decided long ago that if she ever were to marry, it would be to a man with good sense, one with grace and affability. Lieutenant Wickham came to mind, handsome and amiable, but his unfortunate circumstances meant he would not be free to marry where he liked.

She set a candle on her bedside table. She pulled her stolen book from its hiding place and set it upright against the pillows. She laid prone on the bed, propped up on her elbows, her chin cupped in one hand, as she read more of the lovers. They were at a ball. The heiress danced with another while the Earl looked on with jealous disapproval. She wondered what it might be like to find oneself the object of a man's desire. To feel his eyes upon her in a crowded room, comprehending the impurity of his thoughts through a shared look. She recalled Jane and Bingley at the Netherfield ball. How they seemed to have eyes only for one another. How greatly his looks differed from his friend Mr. Darcy. Each time Elizabeth's eyes chanced upon that gentleman she saw his attention was directed to her, but it was nothing like Bingley's admiration of Jane, or the Earl's desire for his love. Mr. Darcy looked at her with disdain and disapproval. She wondered why he always seemed to seek her out, to speak to her, when he had nothing pleasing to say to her. Why was she thinking of Mr. Darcy now? She put him out of her mind and focused on her reading.

The Earl managed to steal the young lady into a secluded room. If they were discovered, her reputation would be ruined, but he didn't care. He was incensed. How dare she dance with another? This was precisely the reaction the heiress had hoped to inspire. She dared him into action, he took her face in his hands and kissed her. He pushed her down onto a sofa and ravished her.

Elizabeth felt the excited glow her arousal brough to her skin, it was a yearning to be touched. She traced her fingers down her throat and along the neckline of her dress, feeling the pleasing tickle over her skin, as she continued to read. Echoing the actions of the Earl, her hand moved under her bodice to gently cup her breast. She was coming alight with excitement. She yearned to feel his hands upon her, to know the touch of a lover. Her pulse beat in her chest and throbbed between her thighs. She pressed her legs together, feeling the heat building.

Elizabeth slid her hand down between her body and the mattress to explore the sensation. She was timid at first, stroking over her mound, then pressing harder as she became fully conscious of her arousal for the first time.

A little sigh escaped her when she pressed against her pleasure bud. She was transfixed by the intensity of the sensation that emanated from the spot. She ground her hips down, knowing instinctively that she needed more.

She rocked rhythmically upon the bed, driving her sex harder and faster against her hand. The maddening sensation grew. She was compelled, striving earnestly to satisfy this need that she could not name. She felt her pleasure building, growing more intense with every movement. She felt as if she would shatter at any moment. Finally, she convulsed with pleasure as she reached her climax. She clutched the bedsheet with her free hand and her toes curled as waves of pleasure suffused her body. Then an effervescent warmth washed over her.

She laid there for several moments, wondering, and marvelling at what she had just experienced. She closed the book and secreted it away. She readied herself for bed, and fell quickly into a contented sleep, her head full of ideas, strange notions, and images of the dark handsome Earl.