Darcy tightened his hold on her.What could he say to allay her fears? He did not marry Elizabeth to make her mistress of his estate; he married her to protect her and because of the need he held for her.“I am away from Pemberley for months at a time, but the estate continues to function without my presence.”
“Then you have no need of me!” she wailed.
Darcy chuckled.“I did not consider whether you could run my household when I became obsessed with kissing your luscious lips.”To prove his point, he raised her chin and lowered his mouth to hers.
When they separated, she said,“At your club, they will ask, Mr. Darcy, how is your new wife? And you will reply, She is a terrible mistress of my estate, but Mrs. Darcy is the best kisser I have ever known.”
Darcy smiled wickedly. “I did not say you were the best I have ever known.”
Elizabeth suddenly shoved against him, ready to escape his taunt, but Darcy clamped his hands together behind her back.“You are a cad, Sir—a true blackguard!” she retorted hotly.
“Methinks the lady doth protest too much,” he joked, holding her tightly to him. Darcy took one hand to cup her face, turning it to him. “Elizabeth, I married you because I need you—beyond reason—I need you.” His breathing became shallow with desire.
“You need me—for what, Mr. Darcy?” Her lips took on a slight pout.
“I need you to…you are the one I turn to when I need reason…when I need courage. I need your kiss—your touch—your empathy. I need the excitement I see in your eyes when you practice fencing or riding Ceres or waltzing. I need to feel alive, and only you, my dearest, loveliest Elizabeth, can do that. I could hire someone to run the estate, but no one could take your place. Do you understand that?”
Elizabeth blushed in embarrassment.“Yes, Fitzwilliam, I understand,” she said meekly. She added wryly,“You do not need a mistress of your estate, but you do need a fencing partner, a riding mate, and someone with whom to dance.”
“Do not forget that I need someone to kiss.” Darcy gently brushed his lips across hers.
Elizabeth provocatively walked her fingers up his chest before grasping his lapels. “Then if I am to be your playmate, Mr. Darcy, play on.” She caught his hair and pulled his head closer.“Play on.”
Darcy took her mouth possessively, the hunger filling him, both a sexual desire and an animalistic need taking hold of him. “Elizabeth,” he murmured, “you are everything.” His fingers traced the indentation of her neck, caressing it before scraping his nail across his favorite spot. “It is the middle of the afternoon,” he whispered close to her ear before sucking the lobe with his lips and tongue, “and I can think of nothing but touching you.” His mouth trailed a line of fire down her neck.A moan escaped his lips before he kissed the spot between the swell of her breasts. He heard her quick intake of breath as he returned his head to suck gently on the side of her neck.
“Ah, you enjoy my femininity,” she whispered.
“Femininity?” Darcy barely got the word out; his hunger was driving him on.
Elizabeth leaned her head back to welcome his continued possession. “That is what my uncle calls it when he kisses Aunt Merry as such.”
The words she spoke invaded his passion-filled brain. “Your Aunt Merry?”
Elizabeth enjoyed taking him by surprise.“Aunt Merry wears a scarf to cover Uncle’s lovemaking.”
“And how, Mrs. Darcy, would you know that?” Darcy sounded both suspicious and amused.
“Aunt Merry noted how you judiciously covered my mark with the emerald necklace. She shared her diversionary techniques at the opera.”
Darcy smiled good-humoredly, suppressing the image. “I believe that I will never be able to look your aunt in the face again.”
“I feel the same about Uncle; Aunt told me too much and not enough, both at the same time.”
Realizing that the moment had passed, Darcy released his hold on her and straightened his waistcoat.“I suppose we need to think about this.”
Elizabeth looked down shyly.“I suppose.”
Before Darcy could respond, Mr. Lockwood tapped on the
“Mr. Darcy, a large box arrived for Mrs. Darcy from London. Shall I place it in her room?”
“It is the books, Fitzwilliam,” Elizabeth said from behind him.
“The library will be more appropriate, Mr. Lockwood.”
“Yes, Sir.”The man began to back out of the room.
“Mr. Lockwood, would you place a small table, several straight-backed chairs, paper, and pens and ink in the library also. My wife and sister have studies they wish to pursue.”
“Certainly, Mr. Darcy.” The man exited immediately.
“Well, my love, shall we see what insights the books have brought? I will send for Mrs.Annesley and Georgiana to join us.”
“I can think of nothing I would enjoy more.” They moved towards the door. Suddenly, she stopped in her tracks, and turning to him, she blushed profusely.“Well, I can think of one thing, but it must wait.”
Wickham lounged leisurely in the corner of Mrs. Phillips’s drawing room. He held a glass of port, but he did not drink; it was all part of the illusion. The Bennet ladies had arrived five minutes earlier. Now, Wickham waited to greet them; he anticipated it taking at least a fortnight for him to maneuver Lydia Bennet, his intended target, away from her family. Discreet inquiries had told him that the Forsters planned to travel to London for a Christmas military ball, and Mrs. Forster wished Lydia Bennet to be her special friend and join the party. Wickham could simply take Lydia, but that would not serve his purpose. Instead, he wanted to spirit her away from her family, letting Elizabeth Darcy rue the day she aligned herself with Fitzwilliam Darcy. Because of her choice, Elizabeth’s sister would die. It would be enough to force the Darcys apart, leaving Fitzwilliam Darcy vulnerable once again.
“Mr.Wickham,” Lydia Bennet called out loudly when she spotted him,“it has been a lifetime since we last saw you.”
Mrs. Bennet allowed her youngest daughter too much freedom in her deportment, and this annoyed him. Wickham always preferred refined ladies to the “working” girls he often took on the street. His tastes had been established two centuries earlier with Lady Ellender D’Arcy.The image of his first love flickered momentarily in front of his eyes. He thought of her often of late—especially since seeing Georgiana Darcy—as if he were coming full circle, back to where it all began. Shaking off the image,Wickham pushed away from the wall and strode forward to meet them.“Miss Lydia,” he said, bowing before taking her hand and bringing it to his lips.“It is a pleasure to hear that you missed my company.”
“You are a tease!” Lydia playfully struck his arm with her fan before twining her arm about his forearm.“You remember my sisters, Mr.Wickham.”
Wickham offered Mary and Kitty Bennet an abbreviated bow. “How could I forget such beautiful ladies?”
Lydia pulled him after her. “You will sit with me, Mr. Wickham.” She led him to a card table, and, dutifully, he gave in to her request.
Over the next hour, much to Wickham’s chagrin, Lydia Bennet talked incessantly of lottery tickets and of the fish she lost and fish she won.Although her immaturity irritated him, he made sure that his manners recommended him to everybody. Whatever he said was well said; and whatever he did, done gracefully. He did not leave Lydia’s side, not even during supper; he tolerated her childishness. Throughout the excruciating evening, he took pleasure in visualizing her end. It will be satisfying to finally silence her.
“Miss Lydia,” he said as he prepared to take his leave,“may I call on you day after tomorrow?” If he was to stay in the area over a period of time, he would require some time away to replenish his hunger for blood. He would take his desires back towards London, away from the local officials.