herself from the scene of the reunion, and it was not long afterwards that Bingley announced that it was time for them to refresh themselves from the effects of a long day’s travel. There was something in the way his eyes rested on Jane, however, that led Elizabeth, with her now greater knowledge of these matters, to believe that it might be some time before the couple made a reappearance. She smiled at the warm look in Jane’s eyes as she blushed lightly before withdrawing, and watched after the disappearing couple with deep satisfaction over their apparent felicity.
She was not the only one with such thoughts, she discovered, as she felt a pair of warm arms slip around her from behind. She rested back against his beloved form, trembling at the rush of desire that ran through her as his lips delicately explored the sensitive skin of her neck. It was a familiar feeling now, that aching need that he could provoke in her so easily, especially as his proficiency in delighting her senses grew. She bore the subtle torture of his touch as long as she could, then turned to catch his mouth with hers, no longer afraid or ashamed to show him her desire. After sating herself with the pleasure of his lips, she leaned against him once more with a contented sigh.
“Soon, my dearest,” he whispered in her ear. “Soon it will be our turn.”
Such Differing Reports
I’ve always felt that Charlotte Lucas was underrated. She may have married a foolish man, but her observations were always spot on. Elizabeth should have known that, yet she ignores Charlotte more than once when her friend suggests that Mr. Darcy is partial to her. What would have happened if Elizabeth had believed her?
Darcy felt the now-familiar pounding of his heart as he approached the parsonage at Hunsford. The prospect of being in the same room with Miss Elizabeth Bennet, of seeing the sparkle in her fine eyes, of breathing the very air she breathed, was enough to make him dizzy. He should be avoiding her. His fascination with her was placing him at risk of exciting her expectations. Darcy shook his head in disgust. Who was he trying to fool? He was the moth to her flame, and he could not stay away. At least Mrs. Collins and her sister would be there to protect him from saying anything foolish.
The maid let him in, bobbing a clumsy curtsey. He strode past her to the drawing room and opened the door to see Elizabeth leaning down to slide a letter into the drawer of the small writing desk. Her face held a startled expression, like that of a doe in the woods. The sunlight pouring in the window behind her made her simple blue dress appear to shimmer around the edges. Darcy was so dazzled that it was a moment before he realized she was alone.
Why had the maid said nothing? But he could not bring himself to regret the opportunity to have Elizabeth to himself. Belatedly he bowed. “I apologize for my intrusion, Miss Bennet. I had understood all the ladies to be within.”
She gave him an arch look as she pushed the drawer closed behind her. “Mrs. Collins and Miss Lucas are gone on business into the village. They should not be away long.”
He took the seat she indicated, responding automatically to her enquiries after Rosings, more interested in her lively expression than in her words. As usual, he hardly knew what to say in her presence, but it was enough to look upon her.
After a few moments of silence, she said, “How very suddenly you all quitted Netherfield last November, Mr. Darcy! It must have been a most agreeable surprise to Mr. Bingley to see you all after him so soon; for, if I recollect right, he went but the day before. He and his sisters were well, I hope, when you left London.”
“Perfectly so—I thank you.”
There was another short pause before she replied, “I think I have understood that Mr. Bingley has not much idea of ever returning to Netherfield again?”
He was impressed by her