Fanfic 6x322r

What Elizabeth was doing in the parlor at the parsonage could only be described as hiding. She knew she should feel guilty for lying to her friends by claiming a headache she did not have, but she just could not face him again. When Elizabeth had been intercepted on her morning walk by Mr. Darcy again the previous morning, she became completely convinced that he had purposely sought her out when he knew she would be alone. The way his dark eyes traced over the curves of her body made her tremble inside. What was more alarming was that she did not totally dislike the feeling. As much as she fought in her mind to maintain her dislike of Mr. Darcy, Elizabeth Bennet could not control the reaction of her body to his presence. She often caught herself studying him when she was sure nobody was looking. There was no denying that he was a superb example of masculine beauty. Broad shoulders and narrow hips, well-formed legs that looked amazing in riding boots, and eyes so dark they were almost black where just a few features that Elizabeth found most disconcerting. It seemed terribly unfair that someone so physically perfect should be so flawed in the areas of character, behavior, and judgement. Elizabeth was an innocent. She knew very little of the ways of men and women, but she knew enough to know that men had certain needs. These needs, though very mysterious to Elizabeth, where clearly written in Mr. Darcy's eyes when he had stared at her when they were alone in the woods. She was used to him staring. Had been doing so since they had first become aquatinted. His intense scrutiny had always made Elizabeth uncomfortable, but until they were alone together in the woods she had assumed that he was only staring at her to criticize and to find fault. Alone, however, and closer than they had ever been on the narrow path with her hand hooked through his arm, Elizabeth began to assign another meaning to his gaze. The long and short of it was, Elizabeth was afraid of him. She knew he did not care for her. It had become obvious that he was attracted to her, wanted her physically. With what she knew of his character from Mr. Whickham, and from her own observation of him over the time of their acquaintance, she was not sure that he was a man to be trusted. True, he had always behaved as a perfect gentleman when they had been in each other's company thus far, but perhaps he was only waiting for her to become comfortable in his presence before...she wasn't sure exactly what...compromising her somehow. And she feared herself as well. The feelings his gaze and nearness incited in her body were difficult to ignore, and she was sure he knew this and would use it to his advantage. She was unsure of her ability to resist him should he come even closer. She pictured him stepping very close to her, black eyes boring into hers, and taking her hand, lifting it to his lips...She closed her eyes and rested her head against the back of her chair. Her hands trembled. Elizabeth started when she heard the parlor door open. When she opened her eyes she had to blink several times to be sure she was fully awake. There, standing in the parlor before her, was Mr. Darcy himself! "Are you well, Miss Elizabeth?" he asked. His voice was raspy and his breath came quickly. Elizabeth thought she had never seen him so agitated.

"I am, thank you," she replied with cold civility, still stunned by his sudden appearance. "When I heard you might be ill, I had to come," he continued. Elizabeth's mouth gaped open in astonishment and confusion. What cared he for her health? She was about to find out. Mr. Darcy sat down for a few moments, then rose and began to pace from the chair to the mantlepiece, then to the window. He completed this circuit twice before finally coming to a stop in front of Elizabeth, where she now stood in front of her chair in confused silence. Raking his fingers through his hair nervously, he began"In vain I have struggled. It will not do. My feelings will not be repressed." Here he paused to take her hand in both of his before continuing. "You must allow me to tell you how ardently I ire...and love you." Elizabeth was sure she had never been more astonished in her twenty years. She felt the color creeping up her chest and all the way to her scalp. She wondered if she had heard him correctly, or was she perhaps dreaming? Before she could formulate any kind of response, he continued. "From almost the first moment of making your acquaintance, your beauty has tormented me. Oh, how I have wanted you! I have yearned for you to the point of physical pain. Your beauty, wit, and intelligence all have enthralled me. I have fought to suppress these feelings in vain. Despite my sense of the inferiority of your birth, the degradation such an alliance would inflict upon my own name, and the low nature of your family and connections, I find that I must have you, or be driven to Bedlam. Please say that you will accept my hand." With this he lifted her captive hand to his lips and bestowed several tender kisses along her palm and wrist, gradually making his way up her forearm while pulling her closer to him. He was more than a little shocked when Elizabeth roughly wrenched her hand from his grasp and wiped it on her skirt. "How dare you?"she glared up at him, angrily. "How dare you insult me and my family and then presume to take such liberties?" Darcy was furious. Had she any idea what it had cost him to open himself up to her as he had done? to offer all he had? "Is this to be all the reply I am to have the honor of expecting?" "Yes, it is," she nearly spat back at him. "I believe, madam, that it is the established mode in cases such as this to express a sense of obligation, or at the very least, gratitude, for the sentiments avowed!" "If I could feel gratitude, I would now thank you, but I cannot! I have never desired your good opinion, and you have certainly bestowed it most unwillingly."

His dark eyes bored into her, and he stepped closer to her. She automatically took a step back. Her legs came into with the chair behind her, which she quickly scrambled to put between herself and Mr. Darcy. The small barrier between them gave her courage to continue. "I would be terribly sorry to occasion pain to anyone- except perhaps you! But take heart sir, I am sure the feelings you tell me have prevented your regard can have little difficulty in overcoming it!" "You are cruel, indeed, madam, to reject me with so little endeavor at civility. For all the months of torment I have suffered for you, you begrudge me a few kisses on your hand. If you knew the extent of my desire for you, this would seem a trifle indeed." His dark eyes spoke eloquently of his need. She stood frozen under his stare as he knelt on the chair in front of her and recaptured her hand, instantly turning it over and kissing her palm. She gasped at the unexpected sensation of his hot tongue on her skin as he gently nipped at her wrist. Her heart began to beat wildly. If didn't take Elizabeth long to her anger, and she tried to pull her hand away again. This time, however, he was prepared for the possibility. Try as she might, she could not free her hand from his iron grasp. "Were you not cruel to speak of your desire for me and then call me a degradation in the same breath? Was not this some excuse for incivility, if I was uncivil? But I have other provocations. You know I have!" Darcy paused in his ministrations to her forearm upon hearing her last statement. What else could she possibly be holding against him? What was he guilty of, besides lavishing his attention on such an ungrateful and unworthy wench? His baffled look further inflamed Elizabeth. "Do you honestly think that any consideration could temp me to accept the man who has ruined, perhaps forever, the happiness of a most beloved sister?" Darcy felt the color drain from his face. How did she know of his interference with Bingley and her sister? He never failed to underestimate her intelligence. Nothing seemed to escape her notice. "Can you deny that you have been the principal, if not the only means of dividing them from each other, of exposing one to the censure of the world for caprice and instability, and the other to its derision for disappointed hopes, and involving them both in misery of the acutest kind? And yet, you have the audacity to boast of your success in this endeavor!" Comprehension spread over Darcy's face as the source of Elizabeth's information suddenly dawned on him. Damn that Richard! It was insufferable enough that he had been constantly flirting with Elizabeth since their first meeting, but now he had opened his big mouth and made her think even more ill of him than she apparently had before! Darcy had wondered several times

since coming to Roseings if Elizabeth preferred Richard's company to his. Jealousy and rage flooded over him. "Can you deny that you have done it?" Elizabeth repeated. "I have no wish of denying that I did every thing in my power to separate my friend from your sister, or that I rejoice in my success. Towards him I have been kinder than towards myself." With that, he wrapped one hand around her waist and pulled her towards him, burying his face in her neck with a groan, tasting her soft skin with his tongue. It was impossible to have her tempting form so close and still believe that he could not have her. At the very least, he would taste some of her delights before surrendering. Elizabeth's blood was quite stirred by his closeness, and by his soft lips and tongue on her neck. She felt helpless against the strength of the arm wrapped around her waist. But it was not a completely unpleasant sensation. She took a deep breath, hoping to clear her head, but his smell, so heady and earthy, sent a wave of desire through her unlike anything she had ever experienced. His glossy black hair, so close to her face, temped her fingers to touch. His strong shoulders would be so pleasing to lean on. Shaking her head to clear it of such unwanted thoughts, Elizabeth forced herself to why she was refusing him. Now he was biting at her collarbones. She knew she must distract him before he went farther. "But it is not merely this affair on which my dislike is founded." He paused his ministrations and looked up at her. What now? " Long before it had taken place my opinion of you was decided. Your character was unfolded in the recital which I received many months ago from Mr. Wickham. On this subject, what can you have to say? In what imaginary act of friendship can you here defend yourself?" At the mention of Wickham's name, Darcy's temper flared, and his jealousy for her, already inflamed by thoughts of her and his cousin, reached nearly unbearable proportions. He tightened his hold on her waist and leaned over her as he spoke. "You take an eager interest in that gentleman's concerns!" Not to be intimidated, Elizabeth looked him full in the eye and replied, "Who that knows what his misfortunes have been can help feeling an interest in him?" "His misfortunes!" Darcy repeated contemptuously," yes, his misfortunes have been very great indeed!" "And of your infliction!" Elizabeth cried with energy. Darcy shook her, perhaps a bit harder than was his intent, but he felt an urgent need to shake some sense into her. How could she sympathize with Wickham? How could she allow herself to be taken in by his false charm? He could not bare the thought of losing the woman he loved to

his worst enemy. The need to claim her as his own reached a new level for Darcy, and he stood and pushed the chair out of the way, pulling her lush body completely against his. He finally released her hand, only to begin tenderly stroking her face, hair, and neck. "Elizabeth, I will not loose you to him! I have lost too much at the hands of that fiend already, and I will not surrender you to him too! Elizabeth, can't you see that I would give anything to have you? I love you, I need you," his hands moved to her hips and pulled them into his, letting her feel his arousal, "I ache for you." He leaned closer and whispered in her ear, "Please tell me you will be mine. What can I say, what can I do, to convince you?" Elizabeth was shaken by his closeness, his hot breath on her cheek. She wasn't sure exactly what to make of the hard pressure she felt against her hip, but she was almost unable to resist the urge to rub against him. She was enveloped in his smell, his warmth. His enticing, masculine body cried out to be touched, worshiped. Her body ached for his touch too. Why, oh why, could she not simply surrender? It was so unfair! She became even more angry, but the reason for her anger became more and more unclear. Was she more angry at him or at the fact that she wanted him? Gathering all remaining vestiges of courage and resistance left in her body, she pounded her fists against his chest. He stopped and gave her a questioning look. The hurt in his eyes reeked havoc on Elizabeth's resolve. With one final defiant act, she placed her hands on his chest and pushed him roughly away from her, and spat, "Fitzwilliam Darcy, you are, beyond doubt, the last man in the world whom I could ever be prevailed upon to marry!" As soon as the words left her mouth, she wished she could take them back. The look of hurt and despair on his handsome face broke the last of her resolve. Her fists unclenched, and her hands hung limply at her sides. All anger faded away, and her eyes clouded with tears. Darcy had been stunned and hurt by her words, more than he would have thought possible. Now he knew beyond a doubt that he truly loved Elizabeth. He wanted more than just to have her as a companion for his bed and dinner table. He wanted, needed, her to love and want him, too. If she could never give him that, than he would never force anything else on her. Crestfallen, he stared at her lovely face, beautiful beyond words even in anger, and despaired that this might be the last time he would ever see her. As he stared at her face, Darcy soon began to feel hope again, as the anger drained away, and she looked up at him with a look of regret? remorse? What was it he saw in her eyes? Longing, perhaps? Did he dare to believe it? When he saw tears form in her eyes he though his heart would melt. His eyes silently pleaded with her to keep looking at him like that. Could it be possible that her biting remark was as true and thought out as his cutting remark had been at the assembly, on the fateful night on which they first met? She was quite handsome enough to tempt him to distraction. Did he dare hope that she could yet be prevailed upon?

Elizabeth saw the question in his eyes, heard his silent plea. Where was the arrogant man who had walked into this room? The Mr. Darcy that stood before her now looked so vulnerable. She began to feel her heart softening towards him. She ed what it felt like to be in his embrace, pressed against his strong form. Would he hold her like that again? Did she truly want him to? Darcy noticed Elizabeth's eyes beginning to move over his body, and he did not miss the tantalizing sight of her bosom beginning to rise and fall faster. When their eyes met again, he held out his arms to her. With total abandon, Elizabeth threw herself into his arms, not caring for the consequences. She only wanted to feel him encircling her again. Darcy's lips immediately sought hers, and she gasped at their first . He kissed her hard, with all the desperation and longing he felt. Elizabeth gripped his strong shoulder with one hand, squeezing it, iring the firm muscle under his jacket. Her other hand got a firm grip on his hair. For several minutes, Darcy was so caught up in the sensation of her lips finally touching his, that he had no conscious thoughts. Soon, however, he longed for more. He had to know that she would be his. "Elizabeth," he breathed, breaking their ionate kiss, "does this mean you will marry me?" When her answer did not immediately come, he searched her eyes. They were full of ion, but also full of questions. She eventually broke from his gaze and swallowed hard. Her fingers unconsciously began stroking his chest through his waistcoat. He rested one of his large hands over hers, holding them against him. He tried to meet her gaze. She knew that she must give an answer, but didn't know what answer to give. "I," she began, "I...I'm not sure. I will have to think about it." "Argh!" he growled, and pulled her close to him again, "Damn it, Elizabeth! You truly are trying to drive me to Bedlam!" "I'm sorry," was the only weak response she could muster. "Elizabeth, please at least say you will consider my offer. We are meant for each other. I have never felt so strongly about any woman as I feel about you. And I truly do not believe you would be as receptive to my advances as you are if you didn't feel something for me." Elizabeth looked down at his chest, unwilling to meet his eyes. She could not think when she looked into their black depths. Nor could she think with his warm hands caressing her waist and hips through her dress, or with him nuzzling her neck. It was true that she did feel something for him-something very improper indeed. Elizabeth exhaled loudly, frustrated by the turmoil in her mind and body. Darcy took her silence as sufficient encouragement. He whispered huskily against the warm skin of her neck, "Just imagine what it will be like to belong to each other. No rules or boundaries between us, only ion, discovery, adventure. I can take you places you've never even dreamed of."

Elizabeth was still silent. His speech had caused all manor of strange reactions in her body. She shivered, felt lightheaded, went weak-in-the-knees, and involuntarily clenched a set of secret muscles she never knew she possessed. All of these multiplied ten fold when his big hand crept up to cup her breast and gently stroke it. She gasped, and had to clutch his shoulders for . Darcy groaned and whispered, "I will give you a taste of what you might expect as my wife. Then perhaps you can make a more informed decision." He slipped his fingers under the sleeve of her gown and pulled the fabric off of her shoulder, exposing her silky shoulder to his hungry lips. Suddenly feeling overheated, Darcy removed his coat and let it drop to the floor, then began tearing at the knots of his cravat. Elizabeth eyed his exposed neck greedily. She placed one hand on either side of his neck, enjoying the warmth of his skin under her hands. After only a moment, he kissed her fiercely, and his hands wound under her bottom, lifting her off her feet. He carried her over the the sofa and laid her down upon it, without breaking the kiss, and pressed his body onto hers. Elizabeth had never felt so overpowered. She could feel his strength everywhere their bodies touched, which was most everywhere. She shivered anew to think that he could do anything he wanted to her and she would be powerless to resist. She couldn't even make herself want to resist. His tongue pushed into her mouth, and she moaned, involuntarily hitching her knee over his hip. He grasped the hem of her skirts and pulled them up around her hips, his hands moving her wrap her legs around him. All the while, his mouth had moved to tease her nipples through her thin gown. She gasped at the lovely new sensations he was creating. "You know you cannot resist . Just give in, Elizabeth. it that I've won." Elizabeth immediately sobered at the arrogance of this statement. Who did he think he was? She tried to push him off her, but he was far too heavy. She braced her feet and hands against the sofa and arched her back in an attempt to throw him off, but only succeeded in grinding her hips quite soundly against his, causing him to growl savagely at the unexpected surge of pleasure. He grasped her hip and moved against her again, pressing his lips into the hollow of her shoulder. She felt his lips turn up in a smile at her helpless gasp. "You know you like it, Elizabeth," he taunted. She struggled again. He could not suppress a laugh at her pathetic attempts and grunts and groans of frustration. At this, she grasped two firm handfuls of his hair and proceeded to try to pull it from it's roots. Darcy only continued to laugh. "You arrogant!...pull...conceited!...pull...infuriating!" She pulled the hair at the top of his head so that his head was lifted from her neck. She was not prepared for the instant weakening of her resolve when her eyes met his beautiful dark ones, filled with ion. One of her hands moved to grip his jaw. "Handsome..." Darcy growled and traced her full lips with his tongue. "Tempting..." She pressed her face into his neck, kissing, tasting, and savoring the feel and smell of his warm skin. His fingers began to rake through her hair, causing the pins to dislodge. "Insufferable!" she cried as she bit his neck firmly enough to leave a mark.

"Aw!" he groaned and roughly grasped her breast with one hand, leaving the other tangled in her hair. "Incorrigible!" She drew back her hand and slapped him across the face. He quickly captured both her hands with his and pinned them above her head. Now she was truly helpless. His lips trailed from her temple to her ear, then along her cheek and down her jaw, over her throat and across her collar bones; he pressed his face into her chest, moaning softly as his lips once again teased her nipples through her dress. She could not suppress her contented sigh. "Captivating..." As soon as the word left her mouth his lips were on hers. He kissed her roughly until he felt her ionate response, thrilled by the sensation of her teeth nibbling at his lower lip. He then freed her hands, thus freeing his to appreciate her soft curves. Her hands moved of their own accord over his shoulders and back, then between their bodies to stroke his chest. Frustrated by the interference of his waistcoat, her fingers tore at the buttons until they finally released. The thin lawn of his shirt was almost no barrier. She could feel every firm muscle of his chest and stomach, and the feeling was glorious. Darcy could scarcely contain his enthusiasm at the realization that she was as interested in his body as he was in hers. Elizabeth felt an almost painful emptiness deep in her stomach that she couldn't explain. She groaned in misery as the feeling intensified. Darcy seemed to know just what she needed. She trembled as his fingers found the sensitive spot between her thighs, shocked to discover that this was the source of her ache. She knew she should stop him, but seemed to have lost control of her faculties. His warm fingers continued to stroke her. Soon she was writhing under him, and her delicate moans were music to his ears. "Oh, Mr. Darcy!" she gasped as the feeling began to intensify, concentrating on the point where his fingers met her skin. She was stunned and almost angry when his fingers suddenly left her, and he pushed up off of her. She was not bereft for long, however. His arm encircled her waist and lifted her, shifting so that he was on his back and she was straddling him. His hands stroked her silky thighs, and her hands resumed their exploration of his chest and stomach through his shirt. For a moment they merely ired each other, he enjoying her tousled hair and swollen lips, she adoring his broad chest rising and falling, straining against the thin shirt. After a few moments, his fingers moved under her, stroking her again. He shifted under her, and began to move his hips against her in time with his fingers. His other hand gripped her hip, encouraging her to move with him. This she did, finding that it intensified her pleasure greatly. Elizabeth was further inflamed by his primal groans of satisfaction as they moved in unison, loving that he was just as absorbed as she. The feeling deep inside her intensified again. It grew stronger and stronger until she threw her head back and closed her eyes, biting her lip to keep from crying out. The feeling slowly began to subside, and she looked down at him. He smiled in satisfaction at the thrill of discovery so clearly written on her face. He opened his arms to her, and drew her down against his chest. She twined her fingers in his hair and pressed adoring kisses into his neck and jawline. His hands moved under her skirt to grip her backside, pressing her harder against him. "Oh, Elizabeth," he moaned as he moved against her, "my love, yes!" She moved with him, understanding that this pleased him. "Oh, God,

yes!" he cried, clutching her closer before shuddering and uttering a final, helpless whimper before going completely limp under her. They lay exhausted for a few moments before he took her face in his hands, lifting it to look into her eyes. "That, my love, is only a taste of what our lives will be as man and wife. There is yet so much more that I will show you, so much more to discover together. You are the most beautiful, ionate, generous partner a man could ever hope for. This evening has only strengthened my resolve to make you mine. I am more sure than ever now that we are meant for each other. You don't have to give me your answer now. Think about it. Think about it tonight in your bed. Imagine how it would be to have me in bed with you, holding you, loving you. I know I will be imagining the same thing, for I have been every night for months now." He brushed his lips over hers tenderly, then continued, " I worship you, Elizabeth. Please give me leave to do so forever." With that, he stood and placed her gently on the couch, collected his discarded clothing, and left.

Elizabeth sat, stunned by what had just transpired, for several minutes after Mr. Darcy disappeared from her side. Had that really just happened? She looked down at the state of her apparel. Her dress was quite wrinkled and bunched around her knees, and her bodice had two wet spots over her nipples. She could feel escaped strands of hair on the back of her neck. Suddenly snapping out of her ion-induced haze, Elizabeth quickly straightened the pillows on the sofa and darted up the stairs to her chamber. If Mr. and Mrs. Collins should return home to discover her in such a state, she was sure they would have little doubt as to the nature of her activities. When she saw her disheveled reflection in the glass, she started. She looked a fright, hair flying in every direction and red splotches from her cheeks to her chest. Pulling the hanging pins from her hair and removing her rumpled dress were her most immediate concerns. Once she had readied herself for bed, she climbed in gratefully, hiding her face beneath the counterpane. Her emotions vacillated violently between shame and elation. The thought that in the morning she would have to face Mr. Darcy again brought a renewed flush to her cheeks. She would have to give him an answer to his proposal. After the shocking liberties she had allowed him, she felt that she had no option but to accept him, and, indeed, she wanted to accept him. She had enjoyed what had transpired, despite the impropriety of the interlude, and thought that being his wife would not be at all unpleasant in that regard. But she just couldn't banish his faults from her mind. What about Jane? Wickham? Darcy's reaction when she had mentioned Wickham puzzled her. What did he mean he had lost enough to Wickham? Was not Wickham the one who had lost a great deal at Mr. Darcy's hands? It did not make any sense, but she knew that, if she were to marry him with a clear conscience, she would have to find a way to convince him to atone for his past sins. At least, she though, with her always around to upbraid him for his thoughtlessness, he would hurt fewer people in the future.

Elizabeth closed her eyes and imagined Mr. Darcy in bed with her, as he had told her to before he left. His arms stealing around her, his warm, hard chest pressed against her back, his lips on her shoulder...Elizabeth shuddered. She turned to face her imaginary lover and kissed him ionately, opening herself up to receive his lovemaking with eagerness and enthusiasm. Elizabeth shivered anew to think that she might be treated to an encore performance of the evening's events the next morning.

As soon as he was a out of sight of the parsonage, Darcy stopped to perfect his appearance. He buttoned up his waistcoat, smiling at the memory of Elizabeth's graceful little fingers undoing the buttons, then stroking over his chest and abdomen with unrestrained appreciation. As he attempted to knot his cravat, he ed Elizabeth kissing and biting at his neck. Did she leave a mark? To wear the mark of her desire would be the greatest honor he had ever received. He hoped fervently that he would received an ever greater honor from her on the morrow, by gaining her acceptance of his offer. Darcy was stunned by the ion with which Elizabeth responded to his advances. Stunned, but elated. He had always wondered if her lively nature and adventurous spirit would translate to the marriage bed, and he believed he now had proof that it did to his complete satisfaction. He was put in mind of something she had said to him at Rosings one evening. My courage rises with every attempt to intimidate me. He chuckled to himself. "Yes, if certainly did." Despite his delight in the interlude, Darcy couldn't help but feel a bit ashamed of his loss of control. Not that he was surprised by it. There had always been a tension in the air whenever Elizabeth had been in the same room with him. He understood the nature of this tension all too well, though Elizabeth seemed to have been frustrated and confused by it. He was sure he had just enlightened her. It had never been his intention to go so far, but he had always tended to forget himself completely in Elizabeth's presence. He took it as further proof that they were meant to be together. Darcy discovered that he could still smell her essence on his fingers. Such a shock of desire flooded over him, that he nearly ran back to the parsonage to enjoy more of her delights. "Tomorrow morning," he reminded himself. It was terribly wicked of him, but he knew he would not be able to resist further experimentation, should Elizabeth prove willing. If she behaved at all as she had this evening, he was sure he would not be disappointed.

The morning dawned bright and uncharacteristically warm. Elizabeth hurried through her toilet, not wanting to keep Mr. Darcy waiting. She still had doubts about answering his proposal, but couldn't deny that she wanted to be near him again. The thrill of the forbidden had not left her, and she trembled for more of his touch. It was like sneaking sugar from the kitchen or secretly reading the forbidden, naughtier books in her Papa's library, only much more thrilling.

When she saw him step out of the bushes she stopped in her tracks. He looked especially handsome in his dark blue jacket with tan breeches, and, of course, riding boots. He must have noticed her iration of his form, for he raised an eyebrow and pulled his hat from his head, tossing it into the bushes. He grinned at Elizabeth in a silent challenge. Never one to back down to a challenge, Elizabeth raised her chin and slowly untied the ribbons of her bonnet, letting it fall to the ground at her feet. Darcy grinned lecherously as her dark hair tumbled haphazardly over her shoulders. Elizabeth swallowed hard when his fingers began working the buttons of his jacket, which soon landed in the dewey grass. He turned and began moving from the path into the woods, untying the nots of his cravat and eyeing Elizabeth as he went. Elizabeth followed, answering his challenge by unbuttoning her pelisse and laying it across some low shrubs. She removed her gloves and laid them on top of it, then gave him the most defiant look she could muster. Darcy grinned as he draped his cravat over a low-hanging limb. He took a few more steps into the woods, then leaned down to remove one boot, then the other. Elizabeth walked a little ahead of him and sat down on a fallen tree to remove her half-boots. She quickly covered her feet with her dress when she noticed his intense scrutiny of her ankles. Darcy laughed quietly at her modesty, and pulled off his stockings. Elizabeth blushed hotly as she ired his shapely calves. For several moments she sat frozen, all easily surrendered articles already having found their place on the forrest floor. "Your move, my lady," Darcy said huskily. His provocative gaze gave Elizabeth the courage she needed to slip her hands under her skirt and remove one stocking. He unbuttoned his waistcoat and let it fall to the ground. Now clad in only thin linen shirt and knee-length breeches, she had never seen him look more attractive. In an uncharacteristically bold move, Elizabeth decided that she would torment him as he was tormenting her. She turned to sit with both her feet on the fallen tree, then slowly lifted her skirts to give him a full view of her stocking-clad leg and the creamy skin of her thigh above her garter. She smiled at his deep groan. She glanced triumphantly at him out of the corner of her eye, noting how he bit his lips and clenched his fists as she slowly slid her stocking down her leg. After she dropped the stocking she looked at him again and raised an eyebrow. Darcy groaned again. She was the most enticing sight he had ever seen, and his arousal was now reaching painful proportions. "Damn it!" he growled as he quickly closed the distance between them. Elizabeth gasped as he used his left hand to swing her legs over the edge of the log, while his right gripped her waist and pulled her hard against his body. His lips crushed hers roughly, and his hands caressed her legs, wrapping them around his waist. They both gasped when his arousal pressed into her hips. When his mouth moved to her neck, Elizabeth saw an opportunity to provoke him further. "Does this mean you surrender, Mr. Darcy?"

He pulled back and looked into her eyes. The ion in his took her breath away. "Never, Miss Elizabeth." With that, he released her, took a step back, and pulled his shirt over his head. Now it was Elizabeth's turn to groan. He was so beautiful, so perfect. She tentatively reached out to trace her fingers from the patch of hair on his chest down the trail of hair that led down his stomach and disappeared into his breaches. He caught her exploring hand in his and kissed it. "Your turn." Elizabeth stood and started walking away from him, unbuttoning her dress as she went. When she finally reached the last button, he stepped up behind her and pulled her back against him. He pushed the dress down over her shoulders until it fell to the ground, and she stood in only her chemise and corset. His hands moved over her, down over her hips and then back up to cup her breasts as his mouth moved over her neck and shoulders. Elizabeth was stunned ,and even a bit indignant, when he suddenly removed his hands from her body. As soon as she heard him pulling at the buttons on his breaches, she froze. She heard them land on the ground near her dress. She stood as still as a statue, unsure what she was to do now. Darcy grabbed her by her shoulders and spun her to face him. His naked body was magnificent, if not a little intimidating. She had often tried to imagine what his legs looked like under his clothes, but the reality which stood before her was so much more breathtaking than her imaginings. She traced his chest and stomach again with her fingers. "Well, Elizabeth?" She knew what he expected of her now, but she hesitated. Her entire body trembled. He stepped closer and hooked his finger into the front of her corset, pulling it as much away from her body as he could and ired her breasts. Elizabeth's hands slid over his smooth back, and they kissed again. It took several moments for them both to the sound of a horse approaching from a distance. Elizabeth gasped and pulled away from him, quickly stooping to grab her dress. She ran as fast as she could in her bare feet over the forest floor, collecting her other discarded items as fast as she could manage. She wrapped her pelisse around her shoulders and kept running until she was confident enough in her distance from the horseman to stop and dress fully. She trembled to what they had done, and to think of what they almost did. She looked around for Darcy, but he was nowhere to be seen. She had run a fair distance in the direction of the parsonage. She was not surprised she had lost him. He had probably run in the direction of the great house. Elizabeth looked down at the pile of remaining items on the ground. She was puzzled to see a ball of tan fabric among her stockings, half-boots, bonnet, and gloves. Suddenly, she realized what she had done. In her haste to dress herself, she had grabbed his breeches by mistake! With a mischievous laugh, she finished dressing, then hid the breeches in her pelisse and ran the rest of the remaining distance back to the parsonage.

Back in the woods, Darcy was searching frantically for his breeches. He had quickly collected his clothing, after watching Elizabeth scramble to collect hers and then disappear into the woods. Too painfully aroused to run after her, or away from the approaching horse, he had simply leaned against a tree and waited for the encroacher to . It was unlikely that they would deviate from the path, but it was probably just Richard anyway. If it were, he would simply curse his cousin for scaring Elizabeth away. He could just imagine the look of astonishment...and jealousy... on his cousin's face. That would teach him to flirt with my Elizabeth, he thought with a smirk. When the immanent danger had ed and he had begun to collect his clothes, he had soon realized that his breeches were not among them. It wasn't difficult to conjecture that Elizabeth had somehow ended up in possession of them, whether by accident or cruel design was more difficult to say. As the minutes crawled by, and Elizabeth was nowhere to be found, Darcy began to worry about what he should do. He could not simply walk the mile or so back to the great house without his breeches. Even if he had the good fortune to make it to the house without being seen, there was no way to make it to his chambers without encountering the servants. It seemed that his only recourse was to wait upon Elizabeth's mercy.

Elizabeth could not control her grin as she finished her mid-day meal with Mr. and Mrs. Collens and Maria. Her revenge was now to be complete. By her estimation, Mr. Darcy had either had to walk back to the great house sans breeches, or Mr. Darcy has been siting in the woods, sans breeches of course, for the past three and a half hours. Oh, yes, her revenge was sweet indeed. She threw her napkin down upon the table and excused herself to walk out again. Mr. and Mrs. Collens were discussing taking Maria into the village for some shopping, so they did not question Elizabeth on her choice of afternoon pastime. Once in her room, she collected sever pieces of paper, a pen and inkwell, as well as the pilfered breeches, and set out into the woods. When she reached the spot where he had first ed her on their rather unorthodox walk, she took a few steps into the brush opposite where they had left the path earlier and hid his breeches under some leaves. On her way back to the path she found his discarded hat, which she decided to bring along. Several yards into the woods, she saw him sitting just as she had imagined. He leaded against a tree wearing only his shirt, his jacket underneath him and his waistcoat over his lap. He turned quickly at her giggle. He turned back away from her and said, "I believe you have something that belongs to me, Miss Elizabeth." "Indeed I do, Mr. Darcy" She smiled devilishly and tossed him his hat.

"You know perfectly well that it was not the hat to which I was referring," he replied, and bestowed upon her the most withering scowl he could muster. "You shall have your breeches back, Sir. But first, you must complete two tasks of my choosing." "And what is it you would have to do, my dear?" She thrust half the paper into his hand, as well as the ink and pen. He gave her a puzzled look, and she sat down by his bare feet. "You will write a letter to Mr. Bingley telling him you where wrong to interfere in his life, apologizing for said interference, and encouraging him to return to Netherfield to court my sister." He looked thoughtful for a moment, then, impressed by her gumption, replied, "Very well. I suppose that is something I should do, regardless." He opened the inkwell, dipped the pen in it, and began to write. When he was finished he handed the letter to Elizabeth for her approval. She read it, then folded it and tucked it into her bodice. "Excellent. I shall post this tomorrow." "Your second demand, my love?" She handed him the remaining paper. "Now, you will write to Mr. Wickham, apologizing for your ill treatment of him and offering to make amends." He was instantly livid. "Madam, you do not know what you ask! I cannot.." "Then walk back to the great house as you are." She stood, but he grabbed her ankle and held her fast. "Very well," he growled as he took up the pen once again. But, instead of writing a letter to Wickham, Darcy wrote out the entire story of his dealings with Wickham from youth, but especially detailing Wickham's attempted elopement with his sister, Georgaina and squandering of his inheritance. When he finally completed his tale, he handed the paper to Elizabeth, then sat back against the tree to watch the play of emotions over her face as she read. Finally, her hand went up to cover her open mouth, and she breathed, "I'm sorry. I had no idea."

"There is nothing for which to be sorry, Miss Elizabeth. You are not the first to be taken in my Wickham's charm. Thank you for believing me." "I have no reason to doubt your word, Mr. Darcy, " she replied, still dumbfounded by his revelation. She tucked the paper into her bodice with the other letter. " I promise to burn this as soon as I return to the house." "Thank you." Elizabeth felt awful. She had misjudged him terribly. She had been taken in by Wickham's charm, and had not even considered that there might be another side to the story. She felt the last barriers that stood between her heart and the man in front of her crumbling. Slowly, she traced the muscles of his bare legs with her fingers, along his shin and up his thigh. She met his eyes. They were full of emotion, hope and longing. Rising on her knees, she took his face between her hands and kissed him softly. "I'll be right back," she suddenly said as she jumped up and ran to the spot where she had hidden his breeches. When she returned with them, she held them out to him. He nodded his thanks and pulled them on. Elizabeth made no attempt to avert her eyes. He picked up his soiled coat and began to dust it off. "Well, Miss Elizabeth, I believe you owe me." Elizabeth was confused for a moment, but his eyes raking over her figure soon told his meaning. "Never fear, Mr. Darcy. You shall receive your compensation," she leaned in to him and whispered in his ear, "on our wedding night."

Darcy could not contain his elation as the meaning of her words penetrated his consciousness. He had been so afraid that, despite everything they had done, she would refuse him still. He knew he should have asked for her answer as soon as they had met that morning, but had decided instead to tempt her further, and enjoy a little more of her, before accepting his fate. It had been wicked of him, of course, but most enjoyable. He thoroughly deserved the three uncomfortable hours he had spent in the woods repeating "I cannot believe I removed my breeches in front of Elizabeth" over and over in his head. It was a miracle indeed that Elizabeth had not been angry with him, and an even greater miracle that she had accepted his hand. And now her lips still lingered on his ear, kissing and biting gently as her hands stole around his neck and into his hair.

"Thank you, my love," Darcy finally whispered into her hair. They stood thus for several moments, Elizabeth stroking his soft hair, and Darcy gently gripping her tiny waist, measuring it's smallness with his large hands. His bride! He could scarcely believe his good fortune. Darcy was so accustomed to being somber, that the sudden wave of happiness that washed over him was impossible to manage. He didn't know what to do with himself. Elizabeth watched, transfixed, as the serious man she had come to care for transformed before her eyes into a joyful young boy on Christmas morning. It would have been impossible for Elizabeth's heart not to melt when she beheld his lovely smile, displaying a fine set of perfect white teeth and two sets of dimples, one on each side of his mouth. His dark eyes shone with merriment. And then he laughed, a deep, throaty laugh so infectious that Elizabeth immediately discovered that she was laughing too. "Oh, Lizzy!" He took her face in his hands and planted a quick kiss on her forehead. The next second, Elizabeth felt her feet fly out from under her. She squealed and grasped his lapels, suddenly finding herself cradled in his arms. Having given in to the sudden urge to pick her up, Darcy was unsure what to do with her now that he had her. He bit his lip, and grinned sheepishly into her shocked face before setting her on her feet again. "Um...forgive me," had stammered, running his fingers through his hair, causing it to stick out in all directions. Elizabeth laughed and grasped his hands in hers, standing on tip-toe to kiss his cheek. She thought she had never seen him look so adorable as he did just now, smiling ear to ear, and all because of her. For the first time, Elizabeth felt the deep fulfillment that would come with a life spent to make another happy. She vowed in her heart to always do whatever she could to keep that incandescent smile on his face, and that light in his eyes. She tentatively reached out and fingered his dimples. "So," she teased, "the formidable Mr. Darcy has dimples, and two sets at that!" "Do I?" he asked. "I knew I had them as a child, but I did not know that I had them still." He looked down for a moment and sighed before continuing. "I truly cannot smiling like this since I was a child." "That's so sad," Elizabeth said as she put her arms around his waist. Obviously her new fiance had not had the easy, carefree life his wealth and station would suggest. Her father had often reminded her, her sisters, and , however futilely, her mother that money could not buy happiness. She desired to know more of him, what made him proud and what made him somber? What had happened in his past to cause him not to smile in so many years? "Will you tell me about yourself?" she urged, taking his hand and leading him towards the path. "What is it that you wish to know, my dear?" "Everything. Your entire history as far back as you can . I want to know what your parents were like, your education, childhood activities...Oh, and about your sister, Georgiana. I

know there must be so much more to her story than just the incident with Wickham. I want to know everything," she finished with a smile. Darcy was still smiling, but she could see that some of the light had faded from his eyes. Apparently memories of his past were not pleasant ones. Elizabeth gripped his forearm with her free hand and rested her cheek against his shoulder. .This seemed the cheer him, as his eyes lit up again as he looked down at her. He placed his free hand over hers. "It makes me very happy that you truly want to know me, Elizabeth, but I must warn you that much of my history is not pleasant. I will tell you all, in time, but I would rather not speak of it just now. This is a happy day, the happiest of my life, in fact. I would not wish to spoil it by speaking of my unpleasant past." "I understand, Mr. Darcy. I will be patient." "Please call me Fitzwilliam, my love." Elizabeth scowled. "What is so very shocking, dear? Fitzwilliam is my given name after all. It would not do to have you calling me Mr. Darcy for the rest of our lives." Elizabeth smiled back at him and replied, "I would be happy to call you by your given name, sir, it's just that...well...it reminds me of your cousin, Colonel Fitzwilliam. It would not do for me to think of your cousin every time I say your name," she teased. "Absolutely not!" Darcy released her hand to wrap his arm possessively around her waist. "We shall have to think of something else for you to call me, then." "What is your full name?" "Fitzwilliam George Darcy," he replied. "George! Oh, dear. I had hoped that I could use your second name, but George is Mr. Wickham's given name, is it not?" Darcy nodded. "I suppose that will never do either." "What does Georgaina call you?" "Brother." "Well, that is no help at all," Elizabeth began to laugh at the absurdity of the situation. "I've got it! Does anyone ever call you Will?" He shook his head, "No. That name would belong to you alone." "There's an end to it, then. Will it shall be."

When they came in sight of the parsonage, Darcy removed his hand from her waist and offered her his arm instead. Once they reached the garden, he stopped and turned to face her. "Elizabeth, before we part there is something I must speak with you about." "Of course, Will." She led him to a bench secluded in a heavily shaded corner of the garden wall. Once seated, he took both her hands in his and began. "My dearest Elizabeth, I must apologize to you. My behavior last night and this morning was inexcusable. That was not how a gentleman treats a lady, and I am thoroughly ashamed of myself. The only excuse I can offer is that, in my love for you and desperation at the thought of losing you, I completely forgot myself." "You needn't be ashamed. True, your behavior was...somewhat less than gentlemanlike, but, then again, my behavior was not ladylike in the least." "No, Elizabeth, the blame is entirely mine. You are an innocent, virtuous young lady, and I knew exactly what I was doing. I took advantage of your ionate nature, and I should not have." "Will, I am not angry. I must it that I have no regrets about what transpired between us, because if it had not I most likely would not have the pleasure of calling you my fiance now. I was quite losing my temper before you so skillfully distracted me." She raised an eyebrow and smiled archly up at him. "You need have no regrets." "Well, while I am sorry for the way I behaved, I cannot say that I regret what transpired. I enjoyed it immensely, whether I should have or not." After a short pause Elizabeth ventured, " Will, I want no secrets between us. I do not...believe you are...a rake, but clearly you knew what you were about. I take it you are not...innocent in this...area." Darcy took a deep breath to steady himself. He had expected Elizabeth to be curious about his history in this area. She was far too bright not to surmise that he was no innocent. Her request that they have no secrets between them was a respectable one. He would be honest with her. "You are correct, Elizabeth, in assuming I am not an innocent. I have been with women, but not since I fell in love with you. And they were all courtesans, and mostly in my Cambridge days, several years ago. I have never been with a maiden. You will be the first in that respect. Also, you are the first and only woman I have ever been in love with. Please do not make yourself uneasy about my past." When Darcy finally brought himself to look at Elizabeth, he was surprised to find her face flushed, her jaw clenched, and her hands balled into fists at her sides. She looked...angry. Panicked by her apparent anger, he quickly dropped to his knees before her and covered her fisted hands with his.

" Elizabeth, please don't be angry with me. I told you it was all in the past, and I promise you there will never be another. You're all I need" She finally looked at him, eyes ablaze, and roughly took his face in her hands. He was so beautiful and desirable a man that she was unsurprised that other women would want to be with him, even those payed for their services. "I am not angry at you, Will. The though of any other woman touching you makes me ill. You're mine!" Darcy smiled widely. He was tremendously relieved that she was not angry with him. Elizabeth never ceased to amaze. He loved that she felt possessive of him as he did of her. He raised his hands to her face. "I am yours, only yours, heart, body, and soul." With that, his lips met hers hungrily, and she kissed him back with possessive force. Darcy's hands found their way under her skirt, where they caressed their way upwards until they found the warm, bare skin above her stockings. Elizabeth was, once again, the first to hear the sound of approaching horses. She broke from the kiss and looked around frantically. "They're back!" she whispered urgently, regretfully removing his hands from her thighs and righting her skirt. Darcy finally broke from his ion-induced trance and stood, pulling Elizabeth to her feet with him. "I will take my leave then." He lifted her hand to his lips for a chaste, but meaningful, kiss. "Until tomorrow, my love." Elizabeth watched his fine form disappear around the corner. There was so much left unsaid, so much they still needed to discuss. Even more pressing was the ache deep in her belly that only he could relieve. "Our wedding night cannot come too soon, my lover," she sighed.

That night, as Elizabeth readied herself for bed, she began to ponder one very important but puzzling question: did she love Mr. Darcy? It had occurred to her that he had told her of his love, and he called her "my love" many times in the course of their conversation, but she had never reciprocated. She was sure of one thing, that she didn't want to lie to him. They had established their desire for honesty between them during their earlier conversation, and she wanted to adhere to that pattern. As much as she knew he would love to hear it, she determined that she would not tell him she loved him until she was sure it was the truth.

She sat, cross-legged, on the bed with the two letters he had written earlier laid out before her. The letter to Mr. Bingley was short and to the point, and Darcy came across as truly penitent. He had not resisted writing it in the least, which suggested to Elizabeth that he truly had made an honest mistake in judgement, and had not acted out of careless regard for her sister's or his friend's feelings. The letter would be posted in the morning, and, she was sure, that when Mr. Bingley received it he would waste no time obtaining the direction of her Aunt and Uncle's house to call on Jane. Elizabeth sighed contentedly at the thought. Her sweet Jane was finally to be happy again. And then there was the letter that contained the history of his unfortunate dealings with Wickham. On that score, Darcy was completely absolved. To a large extent, her previous dislike of him had been greatly influenced by Wickham. She could no longer believe him cruel, disloyal, or dishonest. He clearly loved his sister dearly, and had taken on quite a large responsibility at a young age with her care and the running of such a large estate as Pemberly was rumored to be. It was no wonder that he was a bit somber and withdrawn, he had carried such a heavy burden for several years now. She was sure he was terribly lonely. The thought caused an involuntary constriction in her chest. She placed her hand over her heart. It beat for him, for her William. In such a short span of time her opinion of him had completely changed. His behavior wasn't perfect, by any means, but neither was hers. He did not hold her belief in Wickham's vicious lies against her. Neither did he hold her rude behavior to him throughout their acquaintance against her. He deserved all the best that she had to give. With a deep breath, Elizabeth closed her eyes and willed the last barriers between William and her heart to fall away. She let go of everything that was in the past and let her heart fill with him. A slow smile overspread her features. She loved him, and it felt wonderful, right. Tomorrow she would tell him.

Darcy awoke with a smile on his face, full of anticipation and joy. He could not ever being so happy before. Oh, Elizabeth thank you so much for all you are and all that you have agreed to be to me. I am forever indebted to you, sweet my love. He rose and dressed quickly, eager to see Elizabeth again. This morning would be the only privacy they were likely to have today, and he intended to take full advantage of it. His need for her was great, but he knew they had much to discuss if they were ever to make it to the alter. There were plans to be made, starting with how her father's permission was to be obtained. He had also promised to tell her of his past, something he was not particularly enthusiastic about doing, but if it was her wish he must honor it. Perhaps she would allow him to wait until they returned to Meryton to tell her. These few precious days before their engagement became known should not be wasted in such a way. He was sure they would not be allowed much privacy once she returned home, and he very much desired to forget he was a gentleman again.

They met at their usual spot along the woodland path. Darcy was sure Elizabeth had grown lovelier overnight. She had only pinned her hair halfway up, so it was left to hang over her back and shoulders as she swung her bonnet back and forth from it's strings. She had chosen a simple gown, but one with a rather daring neckline. Darcy wondered if she had done this on purpose for his benefit. Elizabeth tried to convince herself she hadn't. But even greater than these delights, she had a new glow about her that Darcy could not name. Her eyes, which always danced and shone, seemed even brighter. She was incandescent. Elizabeth ran into his waiting arms and immediately sought his lips with her own. Their kisses quickly turned ionate. Elizabeth gripped his strong shoulders and leaned completely into his pleasing form, pulling herself higher to deepen the kiss. Darcy's hands traced the curves of her waist, hips, and bottom, enjoying her softness and femininity. He bent lower to accept her tongue into his mouth, caressing it with his own. After several minutes of this, Elizabeth broke from the kiss and buried her face in his chest. "I love you, Will," she whispered. Elated, Darcy tightened his arms around her and placed several tender kisses on her hair and temples. "I love you too, dearest Lizzy." Darcy bent low, and wrapped his arms under her bottom, lifting her off the ground so that their faces were even with one another. He carried her several steps into the woods and rested her back against a large oak. For a long moment they merely stared into each other's eyes, while his hands ed her weight and her hands caressed his face. Then Darcy began to pull her skirt up around her thighs, allowing her to wrap her legs around his waist, freeing his hands to explore her curves. And explore he did, starting with her shapely legs. Elizabeth moaned when he hooked his finger in her garter and drew one stocking down her leg, allowing it to bunch at her ankle. The feel of his hands on her skin was heavenly, and Elizabeth couldn't get enough. Moving her hands between them, Elizabeth unbuttoned Darcy's jacket and waistcoat, pushing them both over his shoulders in one smooth movement. Her nimble fingers then began working the knots of his cravat. Soon, the cravat found its place on the ground with the jacket and waistcoat, and Elizabeth began unbuttoning his shirt as far as it would go, and placing moist kisses from his neck to the patch of curly hair on his chest. She let her fingers linger there, enjoying his masculine beauty. He was perfect, every inch of him. Darcy's lips touched hers very gently, with just enough pressure to coax them open. His tongue pressed slightly against her lower lip, then barely touched Elizabeth's tongue as she tried to draw it into her mouth. He kept his kisses light, teasing, always pulling back slightly whenever Elizabeth tried to deepen the kiss. Soon she was moaning and pulling his hair in frustration. Darcy chuckled at her impatience. "What do you want, Lizzy. Tell me." "You know very well," she replied, frustrated and breathless.

"Tell me." "I want you to kiss me hard. I want your hands all over me, and I want to feel your skin against mine." With a groan, Darcy complied with her wish. He kissed her with abandon, biting and sucking at her lips and tongue, pressing her hard against the tree with his body. Elizabeth pulled at the fabric of his shirt, wanting it gone, but unwilling to break from their delicious kiss. She was able to slip it over one strong shoulder, which her fingers immediately began to explore. Darcy moved one hand to stroke her breast, pulling the fabric down to expose her nipple. When his fingers began to pleasuring her there, she nearly cried out. Both froze when they heard a twig snap.

Richard Fitzwilliam was in an exceptionally agreeable mood. He had awoken from a blissful night of exceptionally deep slumber, partaken of an exceptional breakfast of eggs and fried kidneys, and was now enjoying exceptionally fine weather for his tour of the grounds. Foremost in his thoughts was the exceptional beauty he had the privilege of seeing almost every day during his stay at Rosings, and this day was not to be the exception. Richard had called on Elizabeth, under the guise of calling on Mrs. Collins of course, several times in the past weeks, and he planned on doing so again as soon as he had finished his walk. However, he was privy to the knowledge that Miss Elizabeth was fond of walking, particularly in the morning hours, and he secretly hoped that he might have the good fortune to happen upon her. The good colonel was soon to learn to be careful for what he wished. He was happily pursuing one of his favorite paths through the woods when he began to hear the most peculiar sounds. "Well, if I didn't know better," he thought to himself," I would say it sounded as though someone were...erh...in the woods. What a ridiculous notion!" He strode determinately forward, only to halt in his tracks up hearing what, if he didn't know better, was the distinct sound of a woman...being quite pleased. Movement in the trees to his right caught his eye, and he turned hesitantly to see what it was, and what is was was most shocking indeed! What he saw was his cousin's broad back clad in only his shirt, which was, at this moment, being pushed over his shoulder be a very dainty hand. Furthermore, he saw a woman's very lovely bare leg which his fortunate cousin was stroking most diligently. When Darcy moved from kissing the young lady's lips to biting at her neck, Richard was able to determine the identity of the lady, much to his astonishment and chagrin.

"Darcy, you fortunate son of a bitch," he though. "Who knew Miss Elizabeth was so...friendly?" Suddenly snapping out of his stunned reverie, Richard started, realizing that he must get away somehow without being seen. Unfortunately for all involved, Richard's foot was already poised over a goodly sized twig which produced such a "snap!" which, to Richard, may as well have been a gun shot. What happened next was pandemonium. Elizabeth screamed, Darcy started, and Richard cried, "Bloody hell!" "Damn you, Richard!" Darcy swore, fixing his most murderous glare upon his unfortunate cousin. All the while, Elizabeth struggled to right her clothing, a struggle which proved largely unsuccessful because Darcy had yet to to release her leg and breast from his grip. Richard decided to make a run for it. Darcy, who was not about to let Richard escape the scene unscathed, released Elizabeth a moment too soon, causing her to land with a "Mph!" on the forest floor. It didn't take long for Darcy to catch up to Richard, halting his flight with a firm grasp of his coattails. "Richard, you blasted idiot, you are not going anywhere until I extract from you a vow of silence, by force if necessary!" "No, no! That will not be necessary, cousin. I will keep your and Miss Elizabeth's dirty little secret." His remark earned Richard a sound twist of the ear from Darcy. "Richard, I swear on all that is holy, that if you dare impugn my fiancé's honor you will pay most dearly for it!" "Oh, I would never dream of...your fiance? Since when?" " Elizabeth agreed to be my wife but yesterday." "Yesterday. My, my, you do work fast!" Darcy twisted Richard's ear again. "Alright! Alright, I surrender. I won't say another word!" Darcy released his hold on Richard's ear. "Except congratulations, and that I am extremely jealous of your good fortune." "Careful, Richard," Darcy warned.

"Never fear, Darcy, I have done." "Excellent. Now, Richard, I will have you know that, as I have yet to ask Elizabeth's father for his permission, our engagement cannot become public knowledge as of yet." "I am as silent as the grave." "Furthermore, now that you have been...made privy to this information, I will expect you to be of aid in distracting Aunt Catherine from my unexplained absence from Rosings for the next day or so. I need to pay a call on Mr. Bennet, but I would not have Aunt Catherine learn of our engagement until both Elizabeth and I are safely removed from the premises." "I couldn't agree more," Richard added. "Wonderful. Now, be off with you. I must see to my fiance." "Yes, you do that," said Richard to Darcy's retreating, half-clothed back. "Lucky bastard," he added under his breath.

Thanks for all the reviews, everyone! Keep it up!

Rosings Park 26th of April Mr. Bennet, This is to inform you that I will be paying a call at Longbourn this afternoon. If you , sir, would honor me with a private audience in course of the evening, I would find myself greatly indebted to you. Sincerely, F. Darcy

Mr. Bennet tipped the special messenger and sent him to the kitchen for a light repast. "There will be no reply, thank you."

"Well, well, well, Mr. Darcy," Mr. Bennet chuckled to himself, "so you and my daughter have finally called a cease-fire." He tucked the missive into his coat pocket laughed heartily to himself all the way back to his book room.

In his luxurious carriage, Darcy was mentally fortifying himself for his interview with Mr. Bennet. If Elizabeth had been correct about her father, he would not be easily convinced of the soundness of their attachment, especially on her side. When Elizabeth had finally finished being angry with him for unceremoniously dropping her on her backside back in the woods, they had had a good long talk about how her father should be approached. Elizabeth warned Darcy that her father was not to be underestimated. Like Elizabeth, he was a keen observer of character, and an avid lover of the ridiculous, and would probably do everything in his power to trick Darcy into saying things that would hurt his case. Having been on the receiving end of Elizabeth's formidable wit on more than one occasion, Darcy was quite wary of her father, who, having had many more years to sharpen his wit and perfect his powers of observation, was a force to be reckoned with. He would have to be extremely careful in the way he handled Mr. Bennet. Darcy sincerely hoped that Mr. Bennet would not insist upon a long engagement. Considering the ionate nature of their connection, such a delay could have disastrous results. All he would have to do to secure an immediate marriage to Elizabeth would be to tell her father that he had compromised her, in quite a delicious variety of ways. But he did not want his father-in-law to disapprove of him for Elizabeth's sake. No, he would do everything he could to ensure that Mr. Bennet never found out about the nature of their interactions. Elizabeth's reputation, even with her own family, must be protected. When the carriage ed the road that led to Netherfield, Darcy wondered if Bingley had received his explanatory letter yet. He and Elizabeth had gone together to post it the previous morning, having thought better of their previous activities for the time being. Damn that Richard! The grand Darcy carriage rolled to a stop in front Longbourn house. Darcy stepped out, and was greeted by sever pairs of eyes watching him from the parlor window. Mr. Bennet's amused smile greeted him at the door. "Well, if it isn't the illustrious Mr. Darcy! Whatever brings you to my humble abode, sir?"

Back in her room at the parsonage, Elizabeth was pacing restlessly. Had Darcy arrived safely? met with her father yet? Had he given his consent? God forbid he should insist on a long engagement!

She threw herself on the bed, exhausted with worry. She hadn't been able to sleep much the previous night, and had awoken much earlier than even she was wont to do. Her first thought was to alleviate her anxiety with exercise, but she quickly decided against it. If she were to happen across Colonel Fitzwilliam again Elizabeth was sure she would die of mortification! Elizabeth greatly anticipated the day when she and Darcy could be in each other's company without fear of discovery or censure, when they could simply close the door and lose themselves in each other for hours on end. Elizabeth thought of Darcy's dark eyes, and the feel of his lips on her skin. There was no need for her to be anxious. She knew they would find a way to be together no matter the obstacles. If all else failed, there was always Gretna Green!

"Well, now, Mr. Darcy," Mr. Bennet said as he closed the study door behind them, " what is it I can do for you? I trust that the master of such an illustrious estate as Pemberly does not need advice from a poor country gentleman such as myself, though I would be vastly happy to oblige you." Mr. Bennet wore the same arch look that Elizabeth wore when teasing unsuspecting victims. Darcy knew it well, and knew to be on his guard. He could not help but smile, however, at Elizabeth's bright green eyes that watched him expectantly from the older man's face. Elizabeth was truly a younger, female copy of her father. "I shall certainly keep that in mind, sir, but it is another matter entirely that brings me to you today," Darcy began, bracing for the moment he would have to reveal his true motives. His palms began to sweat. Mr. Bennet thoroughly alarmed him by saying, "so, you want to marry my Lizzy, do you?" Mr. Bennet laughed heartily at Darcy's open-mouthed astonishment. "How did..." "I am not blind, Mr. Darcy," Mr. Bennet interrupted, " nor am I deaf, though I would not have my wife know it for a kingdom." He chuckled again at Darcy's continued confusion. "My cousin, Mr. Collins, mentioned in his last letter that you were among the party at Rosings Park. I expected that, once you and Elizabeth were in company together again, that something like this might happen. I must say, I am relieved that you two have finally come to your senses." Darcy was beyond astonished. How could Mr. Bennet possibly expect an attachment between them? "Mr. Bennet, I don't understand. Elizabeth said that you knew that she...well, that she hated me before, and..."

"Yes, yes, so she said," Mr. Bennet interrupted again," but I know my daughter sir, and she has never been indifferent to you. No sir, not from the first night she laid eyes on you. Had it been any other gentleman who had slighted her in the way you did, she would have merely laughed and forgotten the incident. But Lizzy never forgave you for it, and that spoke volumes of her true feelings. Love and hate are both ionate emotions Mr. Darcy. Lizzy was merely masking one with the other." Darcy smiled broadly at Mr. Bennet. Elizabeth's father was just as extraordinary as she was! "Sir, I must say that I am astonished. You're a very wise man, Mr. Bennet." "I thank you for your kind flattery, Mr. Darcy, but I simply know my daughter." Both men started at the shrill voice of Mrs. Bennet calling everyone to the dining room for supper. "My wife, however, remains the eternal mystery." Mr. Bennet rubbed his ears for emphases. Mr. Bennet rose and Darcy followed him to the door. Mr. Bennet suddenly turned back, with his hand on the knob, and addressed Darcy again. "Well, sir, I believe our time of solitude is at an end, so I will spare you the trouble of asking and simply say that you have my hearty consent and blessing to marry my Lizzy. Now, shall we to supper?"

It was with great pride and pleasure that Darcy was able to put his mother's diamond ring on Elizabeth's finger upon his return to Rosings, though she could not wear it in company until they were a safe distance from Lady Catherine's wrath. The couple suffered through their final week at Rosings with the sole consolation of being able to steal away for precious time alone together without arousing suspicion. Darcy had wisely learnt to choose locations for their amorous encounters far out of sight of any and all paths and roads, a consideration Elizabeth, as well as Richard, greatly appreciated. Elizabeth's virtue was still in tact by the end of the week, though this was not accomplished without a great deal of difficulty. Though Darcy often took to begging to receive his compensation early, Elizabeth held her ground. She had said he would receive it on their wedding night, and on their wedding night it would be. Not that she would have minded, but there was a part of Elizabeth that delighted in seeing him beg, and she was not yet ready to give up the pleasure. Once back at Longbourn, the couple, along with Elizabeth's family, decided that the wedding would take place in just under a month's time. Both Darcy and Elizabeth would have preferred sooner, but it was impossible to insist without revealing details of their relationship neither wanted to explain to Mr. Bennet. So, it was with a great deal of mental fortitude, and a great deal

of brandy on Darcy's part, that the pair kept their amorous interactions to a minimum during their engagement period. They were often forced to employ their lips in the less pleasurable, though vastly more acceptable, occupation of conversing. Elizabeth had often been tempted to ask Darcy about his parents again, but thought better of it. He would tell her the sordid details of his past when he was ready to. Mr. Bingley returned to Meryton about a week after Darcy and Elizabeth arrived, much to the delight of all the Bennets. He had been angry with Darcy at first, but was unable to remain so for long. This was especially fortunate for Darcy who was beginning to feel the effects of sleeping, or rather not sleeping, in a chamber just a few doors down from Elizabeth's. Bingley wasted no time in securing Jane's hand, though they decided to wait to announce their engagement until after Elizabeth and Darcy's wedding. There was never a moment's peace at Longbourn in the weeks leading up to the wedding. Mrs. Bennet, though elated that her second daughter had somehow secured such an excellent match for herself, was forever in a fit of nerves over the brevity of the amount of time she had to be excessive with decorations and other such fripperies. She was convinced that the wedding would be a total failure were she not able to secure a sufficient amount of imported lace. Elizabeth stayed out of doors, preferably engaged in more pleasing diversions with her fiance, as much as possible. She feared that her mother's excessive nerves might be infections, and would not wish her dear William to be burdened with her flutterings and spasms on their wedding day. Jane threw herself wholeheartedly into the preparations for her dear sister's wedding, though she too found it necessary to escape the house to be in company with her fiance from time to time. Kitty and Lydia were also delighted with the prospect of the wedding, especially since fine new gowns were involved, though Lydia was briefly disappointed to have to forgo a trip to Brighton with the Forsters. Mary applied herself to learning several new pieces of music to play at the wedding breakfast, and Mr. Bennet quickly began to wish the couple had eloped. It was in the midst of this hubbub that Lady Catherine de Burgh arrived at Longbourn, insisting rudely to speak with Elizabeth. The great lady was none too shocked to be greeted, not by Elizabeth, but by her very angry nephew. Her visit was, fortunately, of short duration. Georgiana arrived two days before the ceremony, escorted by Colonel Fitzwilliam, who had recovered irably from his ordeal at Rosings, though Elizabeth blushed profusely each and every time she met his eyes. This amused Richard greatly. Georgiana was thrilled to see her beloved brother so happy, and quickly became fast friends with her soon-to-be sister. She also formed a friendship with Jane Bennet, who invited her to stay on at Longbourn for a week after the wedding. The invitation was readily and enthusiastically accepted. Georgiana was excited by the prospect of forming an intimate acquaintance with the Bennet sisters, and Richard found the prospect of seeing more of Miss Jane Bennet an extremely appealing one. Such an opportunity was not to be neglected.

At last, the morning of the wedding arrived, bringing with it a profound sense of relief for both Darcy and Elizabeth. The wait was at last at an end. Elizabeth blushingly donned her gown, after enduring a rather embarrassing lecture from her mother about her "marital duties". Elizabeth had learned enough from her encounters with Darcy to realize that she had nothing to fear and everything to anticipate, but she could not seem to shake the image of her mother lying still and...well, sufficient to say it was not a pleasant image. The sight of her handsome William waiting for her at the alter drove all such unfortunate musings from her head for good. The look of heartfelt delight on his face was all Elizabeth could have wished for. The recitation of their vows was sincere and touching. Darcy blushed profusely when Elizabeth winked at him as he recited "with my body I thee worship," and he hoped fervently that nobody noticed. The wedding breakfast was also a great success, though that did nothing to make the newly wedded couple desire to remain for longer than absolutely necessary. They made good their escape as soon as possible, using the drive to London as their excuse. Once finally deliciously alone in their carriage, Darcy wasted no time in insinuating himself beneath his new wife's skirts and pleasuring her with his tongue until she could no longer stop herself from crying out, causing the driver to stop the carriage to ascertain that nothing was amiss. This incident aside, the journey to London ed without difficulty, and soon Darcy was able to carry his new bride upstairs to their bedchamber. He dismissed her maid and his valet for the night, and ordered their supper to be brought up directly to their private sitting room. After a few minutes of picking at her supper, Elizabeth began to remove the pins from her hair, shaking it loose around her shoulders. Darcy quickly lost interest in his food when he saw his wife reach beneath her skirt to remove her shoes and stockings, leaving them on the sitting room floor. With an eloquent look at her new husband, Elizabeth stood and began slowly making her way towards Darcy's bedchamber door, unbuttoning her dress as she went. Darcy quickly divested himself of his jacket, waistcoat, and cravat. He kicked off his shoes as he strode towards Elizabeth, reaching her just as her dress drifted to the floor. Elizabeth took his hand and led him to the bed, glancing over her shoulder to see her husband iring her form, now clad in only her chemise and stays. She stopped in front of the bed, placing her hands on it and leaning slightly forward, looking back at Darcy with an inviting smile. "Will you help me with my stays?" she asked. Darcy was only too glad to oblige, though he was momentarily distracted by the sight of her bending over his bed in such a way. He fought off the urge to take her then and there, determined to receive his full compensation first. His fingers tore at the lacings of her corset, pulling it open and tossing it over his shoulder. Elizabeth started to turn towards him, but Darcy put his hands on her shoulders to stop her from turning. He pressed his body into hers from behind, forcing her to bend slightly more forward. Finding the hem of her chemise, he drew it upward, pausing to ire her shapely backside, which appeared to advantage in her forward-leaning position. Darcy made a mental note of this position for future perusal.

When the chemise ed the corset on the floor, Darcy gently tangled his fingers in her soft hair, then traced the curve of her figure from behind. "You're skin is so unbelievable soft," he whispered reverently. He turned her slowly to face him, his eyes taking in every inch of newly revealed skin. "So, lovely, Elizabeth," he breathed. "You are everything I could ever want." Darcy wrapped one arm around her waist and pulled her to him, kissing her gently while fondling her breast with his free hand. Elizabeth eagerly returned his kiss, but soon broke from it to remove his shirt and breeches. Darcy pulled her to him again, and they both moaned at the first beautiful of their overheated skin. Elizabeth pressed her hips against his arousal and wrapped one leg around his hips, pulling him with her as she crawled back onto the bed. Darcy's fingers quickly moved between her thighs, stimulating her core while his mouth moved to pleasure her nipples. He hoped that, by bringing her to pleasure first, he could minimize the pain she would experience when they finally ed. Elizabeth, however, was long past being satisfied with only his fingers on her. "Please, William, make me yours. I cannot bear it any longer!" She pulled his hand away from her, then scooted her hips down to bring them closer to his. Darcy moved himself into position, pausing with his tip teasing her entrance, and looked into her eyes. They were full of ion and desire. There was not a trace of fear anywhere on her lovely face. "Elizabeth, I promise I will be gentle. This will hurt at first, but I will stop if you need me to..." "I don't care if it hurts, William! I don't want you to be gentle. I want you to be just as ionate as you were the night you offered me your hand, when you pinned me under you on the sofa and pleasured me mercilessly." She grasped two handfuls of his hair and gave it a sharp tug for emphases. Unable to resist any longer, Darcy gave in with a primal growl. Pinning her under him with one hand on her hip and one on her shoulder, he entered her forcibly in one swift motion. Elizabeth cried out and buried her face in his neck. It did hurt, but it was pain that she craved. She gave him a quick bite on the neck and lifted her hips, encouraging him to keep going. They made love roughly, ionately, savoring each other's moans and cries of contentment. The pain did not fade for Elizabeth, but the intense pleasure that she was experiencing mingled with the pain until she could no longer tell one from the other. They continued at a fevered pace until they found release together. Darcy nuzzled his face into his wife's neck, breathing deeply of the scent of her sweat. She was so ionate. He could hardly credit his good fortune. Elizabeth buried her face in Darcy's dampened hair, basking in the languid afterglow of completion. She loved the feel of his heavy body pressing hers into the bed. It was a feeling she knew she would never get enough of. When Darcy finally withdrew from his wife's body, he was stunned by the radiant glow eminating from her flushed skin and bright eyes. She smiled widely at him, earning a radiant

smile in return. Noticing a small amount of blood on her thigh, Darcy picked up his discarded shirt and handed it to her, suggesting that she use it to clean herself. "William, I will not ruin a perfectly good shirt. I fear I have already ruined the bed covering," Elizabeth replied indignantly. "Shall I call for a bath, then?" he asked. "Yes, that would be lovely," she answered, " if you would me, husband." She raised an eyebrow and bestowed upon him her most mischievous grin. Darcy grinned back. "You read my mind, Mrs. Darcy." Elizabeth ired her husband's shapely backside as he strode to his dressing room to find a robe, once again thanking her lucky stars that he had not allowed her to refuse him. He had opened her eyes to a new world, one kept carefully hidden from maiden eyes and ears. Her eyes drifted back to the crimson stain on the counterpane. She was certainly a maiden no longer. Elizabeth pulled the soiled article from the bed and tossed it into a corner, then turned down the bed and arranged the pillows against the headboard. She wanted no delays after they returned from their bath. Darcy returned to the bedchamber while their bath was being drawn in his dressing room. The sight that greeted him was more breathtaking than anything previously dreamed of or imagined. Elizabeth was on her hands and knees on the bed, deliciously and unashamedly naked, fluffing and arranging the pillows against the headboard. He was surprised to find himself becoming aroused again so soon. A door opening and closing in the next room signaled to him that their bath was ready. He strode towards Elizabeth on the bed, smiling when she looked up at him after positioning the final pillow. "Come, Mrs. Darcy. Our bath awaits." Elizabeth crawled to the edge of the bed, wrapping her arms and legs around him as he lifted her into his arms, and allowed him to carry her to the bath tub. With the relaxing influence of the warm water, their subsequent lovemaking was much less hurried and much more heartfelt. Elizabeth gloried in her husband's whispered words of love and adoration as he loved her gently, slowly, and completely.

It was well after noon the following day when the happy couple finally emerged from their bedchamber. Darcy was to give his new bride a tour of her new home as a means of stretching their legs before returning to bed for another night of unbridled ion. Elizabeth was thrilled with her new home in every way, but most especially with the luscious man it came with. Elizabeth was especially delighted with the library, which contained such a collection of volumes that would satisfy even her voracious appetite for the written word. While scanning the shelves

upon shelves of books, her eyes alighted on a pair of paintings, one depicting a man, the other a woman. Both were dress in the gaudy and sumptuous fashion of a bygone era. There was nothing very remarkable about the man. He had a reasonably handsome face with lively green eyes, and wore a powdered wig. The woman, however, was striking. Elizabeth was unsure if she had ever seen a more beautiful woman in her life, apart from Jane of course. But Jane's beauty was an altogether different sort. This woman's appeal was dark and sensual. Her ample bosom was pushed high by her fitted bodice, and her sumptuous black curls, which were piled high on her head, contrasted beautifully with her light olive skin. Most notably, the expression in her stunning black eyes seemed oddly familiar to Elizabeth. She suddenly realized who's portraits she must be looking at. "Will, are these your parents?" she asked somewhat timidly. "They are," Darcy replied with a sigh. "You are very like your mother," Elizabeth commented. Darcy exhaled audibly. There was a moment's pause before he replied, "Yes. My father never forgave me for that." Elizabeth was surprised by the bitterness in his voice. "Whatever do you mean, William?" Darcy hesitated, deliberating in his mind if now was the time for him to open up to Elizabeth about his childhood. He knew her curiosity would now be insatiable, so this must be as good a time as any. He led her to the chaise in front of the fire and they both settled upon it. Darcy pulled his bride into his arms, drawing strength from her closeness as he began his difficult tale. "My parents' marriage was never a happy one, from the very beginning. My father was quite taken with my mother, infatuated even. She, on the other hand, was said to have been in love with an officer, whom, of course, she was not permitted to marry. She took my father purely for his money and position. They did not get on at all. The only times I seeing them together as a child, they were either arguing or ignoring each other entirely. I rarely saw them, however. After my father's death, I convinced Mrs. Reynolds to confide in me what she knew of my parent's relationship. Apparently my father's resentment of her began on the first night they were wed. It can never be proven, of course, but Mrs. Reynolds believed that he had found her not to have been a maid on their wedding night, and was thoroughly heartbroken by the discovery. Mrs. Reynolds said that she believed he had a difficult time...behaving paternally towards me because of my resemblance of my mother. And it was not merely before their marriage that she was said to have been unfaithful to him. I myself seeing one man in particular, a young stable hand who worked for us, go into her bedchamber and not emerge for several hours. I was but a child, but I knew enough to know that something was very wrong. When my father discovered that my mother was again with child , he removed to a chamber in the guest wing and refused to even see her. It was clear that the child she carried was not his.

When Georgiana was born, father wanted nothing to do with her. He acknowledged her publicly, and gave her his name, but privately he never allowed her to be in his presence. My mother never recovered from the birth, and died very shortly after. I was twelve years of age at the time. One day, I was ing the nursery door, and I heard little Georgie crying. Out of sheer curiosity, I entered, and the nurse allowed me to hold her. I will never forget how her little fingers wrapped securely around an errant lock of my hair and pulled quite soundly. When the little darling began to laugh at my exclamation of pain, I was smitten. From that day on, it was just Georgie and me. We became all each other had." Elizabeth was awed by the affectionate smile that graced her husband's features as he spoke of his sister. She was shocked to learn that Georgiana was only William's half sister, but looking again to the portraits of their parents, she could clearly see that blond-haired, blue-eyed Georgiana resembled neither of them. It made Elizabeth terribly sad to think that her William, sweet, wonderful child that he must have been, had never been loved or cherished by his parents. Suddenly, much about William's character and behavior made sense to her. This was why he was so sullen and hesitant to allow anybody to get close to him. This was why he had been so desperate for her love. Looking back on their earlier acquaintance, her heart ached to think that the man she saw as proud and arrogant was truly just a hurting young boy, longing for love and acceptance. She climbed into his lap and wrapped her arms tightly around his neck, holding him close. "Did your parents never tell you they loved you, Will?" she asked comionately. "Never. The only people who have ever said they loved me are yourself and Georgiana. Well, Richard did once, but I'm not sure that he counts." Elizabeth's musical laugh lifted Darcy out of the melancholy he had slipped into while reliving his painful past. He had her now. He was loved by this wonderful woman. And, in time, they would have children of their own to love. Darcy vowed to bestow upon his children all the love and acceptance his parents never gave him. Theirs would be a happy home. Elizabeth took his handsome face in her hands, forcing him to meet her eyes. "William," she began softly, "have I ever told you how ardently I ire...and love you?" His smile at her use of his own words was brilliant and and heartfelt. "I shall require you to tell me so often, dear Mrs. Darcy. I love and ire you very ardently, as well." Elizabeth shifted to straddle his waist, kissing him deeply and thoroughly. And there, under the cold gazes of his long ed parents' portraits, she proceeded to show him, in the most meaningful way she knew how, just how ardent her love and iration were.

Meanwhile, back at Longbourn... Jane Bennet quietly slipped from the house just after dawn, and made haste towards the high stone wall on the far side of Longbourn's somewhat neglected gardens, eager to be in her dear Charles' arms again. She knew what they had been up to of late was terribly naughty and improper, but the tender affections and loving caresses her beloved bestowed upon her were the greatest gifts she could ever receive. The way he had smiled widely as she kissed and caressed his bare chest had been all the inducement she needed to continue throwing propriety to the wind in favor of giving joy to her darling fiance. When she reached the spot they had agreed upon, Jane saw her beloved Mr. Bingley was already there waiting for her. Oh, how handsome he looked this morning in his tan jacket and green breeches! Jane felt her heart constrict when his brilliant blue eyes lit up at the sight of her jogging towards him. She didn't stop until she had thrown herself into his arms, tangling her fingers in his unruly strawberry-blonde hair, and eagerly sought his lips for a deep and consuming kiss. Bingley's hands immediately went to work removing her bonnet and pelisse, dropping them haphazardly on the dewey grass. He eagerly cupped her breasts in his hands, thrilling in her plaintive moan as she leaned harder against him. It didn't take long for her busy little fingers to divest him of his cravat, coat and waistcoat. Arranging their discarded clothing on the ground for a makeshift bed, Bingley lowered his beloved onto her back, resting his body along side hers as he continued to kiss and caress her face, neck, and bosom. Jane boldly tugged his shirt from his waistband, and assisted him in pulling it over his head. Her eyes feasted upon his beautifully chiseled chest and abdomen. He was so beautiful, every part of him. Her fingers traced over his smooth skin greedily, and her lips soon followed. Bingley gripped her waist, pulling her astride his hips as he shifted onto his back. Lowering the front of her bodice, he began to tantalize her breasts with his lips and tongue, earning a blissful little cry from his beautiful angel. "Oh, Charles!"she gasped as his hands found their way under her skirt, possessively caressing the smooth skin of her thighs and bottom. Instinctually, Jane began to press her most sensitive area against his evident arousal, slowly rocking her hips against him in a desperate attempt to meld closer. Bingley lifted his hips to meet hers, reveling in the stolen pleasure she was giving him. Their lips once again connected, and Jane hungrily edged her tongue into his mouth, seeking out his with a vigor that never failed to surprise Bingley. Surely he was the most fortunate of men! Jane's head shot up when the sudden crunch of leaves was heard to their left. "Bloody hell, not again!" Richard exclaimed. Bingley opened his eyes just in time to catch a glimpse of Colonel Fitzwilliam's quickly retreating back. Jane jumped up and ran as fast as she could in the opposite direction, leaving poor Bingley lying alone, half-naked on the ground.

"Damn you, Richard!" was Bingley's stunned reply.