Page 24 of Penned By Mr Darcy
I tell myself that it is not possible, that she could not have reasonably done such a thing. And if she has not yet managed to do such a thing… then I must never let her.
Still, when she turned back to look at me before entering her room, there was something in her expression I cannot name. It was not fear. Not anger.
It was something I dare not hope for.
I am undone.
Darcy stopped writing, his hand frozen over the page. The words sat there, black and unforgiving.
He shut the journal with a decisive snap and returned it to the drawer. He could not read her, and that terrified him more than anything. He had held his demeanour and spoken with the greatest men in the country, and yet one woman in her nightdress with sleep in her eyes and bread in her hand had left him utterly disarmed.
He stood, not knowing what he meant to do.
Sleep would not come.
Not now. Not until he forgot the way her voice sounded when she said his name.
He made his way to his bedroom, hurrying through the corridors. He could not risk the slightest chance of being caught. He could feel himself growing hard, his mind a chaotic whirl of those damned lustful thoughts that seemed to plague him late at night. He threw himself over the boundary of his bed chamber, scrabbling to undress himself so that he might go to bed and end these wretched longings.
He removed his breeches, stubbornly ignoring the aching erection that still plagued him. It throbbed angrily below his shirt, pressing insistently forward. He climbed beneath the covers, lying as straight as a board and staring up at the ceiling. His hands were flat by his side, pressing into the mattress so firmly that it began to sag beneath him.
His hand moved, pressing down on himself to bid it to go away. When he closed his eyes, desperate to sleep and gain relief from this torture, his mind played the most delicious, forbidden images of Miss Elizabeth. No, it was not Miss Elizabeth, for to give these spectres in his imagination her name would be an insult to her.
He imagined her spirited lips pressed against his neck, her hands exploring his body eagerly. She would whisper in his ear,all those little witticisms she was so talented at turned instead towards teasing and tantalising him.
How would she touch him? Not the innocent Elizabeth Bennet of reality, but this wicked seductress. She would be a bold lover, he was sure of it; she was no meek and willing wife, submitting to a husband’s whims. What he would give to hear her pleasure as he sank between her legs, or as she clambered atop of him and rode him.
He swallowed heavily, snatching his hand away from where it had curled around his cock, the fabric of his shirt soaked. He had scarcely realised what he was doing, but now that it was over, he felt utterly repulsed at his own loss of control.
He would see that it did not happen again.
Chapter Nine
Elizabeth
The next day, something of a response to her letter arrived from Longbourn.
The reply came in the form of Mrs Bennet herself, as well as three even more unwelcome visitors. The crunch of gravel had alerted the household to visitors, and Lizzy had run to the library to look out at the drive. She recognised her family’s coach at once, and Lydia was happily perched up by the driver. Lizzy groaned; that was far from a suitable seat for a young lady.
She lingered in the library as the carriage neared, not wishing to go downstairs to see her family. Although she loved them dearly, she was unafraid to admit that she had rather enjoyed the brief respite away from them, though she would never be glad of Jane’s illness. At last, the carriage pulled to a stop and Lizzy regained her senses, running down to the front door so that she might be the first to meet them.
She watched as they descended from the carriage, Lydia jumping down from her seat at great height. She landed with all the agility of a house cat, her bonnet staying firmly in place. She hadalways possessed a strange sort of elegance, but now was not the time to display such ability.
“Lydia!” Lizzy hissed, surging forward to clutch at her arm before she could move any further. “You are not a monkey; please do not jump about like that. We have one Bennet convalescing at Netherfield; we do not need another with a broken ankle.”
“I don’t know,” Lydia shrugged, looking up at the house. “I wouldn’t mind lying about for a bit, even if it meant I had to put up with those who live here.”
“Lydia!” Lizzy hissed again. “Please. Behave.”
“Oh, fine,” Lydia shrugged, freeing her arm from Lizzy’s iron grip.
Elizabeth then turned to her mother, who was adjusting her hat whilst gazing up at Netherfield with greedy eyes.
“Mother! This is a surprise! I did not think you would come yourself.”
“It has been far too long without dearest Jane. I ought to have come earlier, but you know how easily I succumb to troubles with my lungs. I thought it best to let time pass, and the risk of infection.”
Lizzy raised an eyebrow; her mother was as transparent as glass. She wished to leave the two girls here without interruption so attachments may grow. Well, she would be sorely disappointed.
