She commented on it once to Darcy when they were alone. He responded, “This is where I am at home; I am never so comfortable as when I am at Pemberley. Here I know everyone I see, and they know me, and we both know what to expect of each other. I have never been at ease among those I do not know well.”

“But you know Bingley and his family well; why would you be ill at ease at Netherfield?”

He looked surprised that she need ask the question. “I did not know the servants, nor the neighbors, and I knew that they were all drawing opinions of me. I dislike the feeling. Here I know what people think of me, and I know that their opinion is unlikely to change if I should make a mistake or accidentally offend someone.”

“And what do people think of you here?” she asked with a smile.

He put his arms around her. “They think I am the Master of Pemberley, and when they discover that you are to be my wife, they will think me the luckiest man alive,” he said, and kissed her with such passion that the subject was dropped for some time.

Darcy was also well pleased by the constant presence of Elizabeth. Knowing he would see her frequently each day, if not spend the entire day with her, put him in high spirits, and her gradually increasing comfort with him added to his delight. After their conversation on the first day of her visit, he found it easier to maintain his self-control with her, and enjoyed each and every opportunity they had to explore the pleasure they could give one another without feeling the acute hunger for more than he could have.

His nights were a different matter. The days between their engagement and Elizabeth’s arrival at Pemberley had afforded him his first good nights of sleep since he had met her. It was an unpleasant surprise to discover that her visit brought a return of his sleepless nights, though for a very different reason. His daytime ease in her presence disappeared once she retired for the night, and he became painfully aware not only of her absence, but also of the permeability of the barriers that stood between them. His imagination presented to him the picture of that of which he was deprived, and the image of Elizabeth, dressed in nothing but a nightgown, with her hair loose upon her shoulders and an inviting smile on her lovely face haunted him. The knowledge that this temptation resided under his roof with only a few feet of hall and a door between them did not leave him for a moment, and for the only time in their acquaintance, he had moments of wishing she were not quite so passionate in her responses to him, so that he could be more certain she would throw him out in disgrace if he ever tried to breach that one barrier. Unfortunately, he knew from experience that it was possible for him to take advantage of her responsiveness to go further than she might choose at a saner moment, and his imagination ran wild with ideas of what might happen if he found his way into her bedroom. He knew himself well enough to be certain he would not act on his impulses, but the mere presence of the possibility kept sleep at bay until late into the night.

Elizabeth, unaware of his nighttime battles, was enjoying her ability to be more at ease with Darcy each day as she came to understand him better. She was finally beginning to comprehend what he had meant when he said that he was shy, and that she had misinterpreted the results of that shyness as arrogance and incivility. When she felt mystified by the changes in Darcy, she need only look at Georgiana, who also blossomed at Pemberley, though not to the degree her brother did. It was enough, however, to reveal a rather sly sense of humor and some of the excitement typical to a girl of her age, and Elizabeth was pleased to discover that her future sister could chatter away as well as Kitty or Lydia could when the circumstances were right.

Unfortunately, several days into their visit, Georgiana became ill with a bad cold, and after making a valiant attempt to ignore her symptoms in an effort to be a good hostess, retired to bed. She insisted, however, that her guests go about their business, and Mrs. Gardiner proposed that it might be a good time for her and her niece to visit her Lambton acquaintances, which would also allow Mr. Gardiner and Mr. Darcy to enjoy an often-discussed day of fishing. The party did not gather again until dinnertime, when the ladies were regaled with tales of the sport the gentlemen had found. Darcy had found the day a pleasant one, but, as he far preferred the company of Elizabeth to that of fish, and this had been the longest daytime period he had been deprived of her company since their arrival, felt that it could have been improved upon. A brief evening tryst in the garden helped appease his feelings of deprivation, but not without exciting urges he preferred to forget as nighttime drew near.

When Elizabeth retired for the night, she could hear Georgiana’s labored coughing from the next room, and found it difficult to sleep thinking of how she must be feeling. Remembering how she had sat with Jane when she was ill at Netherfield, on impulse she made her way to Georgiana’s room, careful to avoid notice as she was dressed already for bed. Georgiana was in fact very grateful to have some distraction from her ailment, and Elizabeth ended up spending several hours with her in the kind of sisterly conversation that Georgiana had always craved before she finally fell into a restless slumber.

On returning to her room, Elizabeth found that she was now too alert for sleep. She picked up the novel that she was reading, but decided that it was too engaging for her current needs; what she required was some dull sermons or some such that would bring sleep quickly. There would certainly be something to fit the description in the extensive library below.

She debated dressing, but dismissed the idea as too much bother. It was well past midnight, and no one would be up and about to see her, and even if they did, her dressing gown was quite modest. Taking her candle, she slipped out of her room, down the stairs, and to the library. Once in the door, she stopped to find her bearings in the extensive space, recalling from her earlier explorations that there had been some religious books along the far wall. Passing behind a series of chairs, she had just turned the corner to reach them when a light to one side caught her attention, causing her to bring her hand over her heart in surprise.

“Very fetching, Miss Bennet.” Darcy’s familiar voice came from out of the shadows.

She could barely make out his form, lit only by a small candle. She blushed furiously as she recalled her current improper attire, but told herself firmly that she was every bit as covered as she would be by her normal apparel, and, after all, he had the opportunity to see her with her hair down before, so there should be no reason for concern—at least so long as no one knew of this encounter. “Mr. Darcy! I did not expect anyone to be about at this hour.”

“Nor did I,” he replied. He had been drinking in the sight of her, illuminated by the candle in her hand, since she stepped in the door, taking in the glimpses of her nightgown beneath the clinging dressing gown, and her long dark curls in disarray just as he had pictured. Though good manners required that he stand when she entered, he stayed seated, knowing that if he moved at all, he would move much further than he should. They could not be more alone, and he had been sitting here for hours longing for her; his need to take her in his arms and make her his was almost more than he could bear. “What brings you to burn the midnight oil?” he asked, knowing that if she said anything at all about thoughts of him, he would be completely lost.

“Georgiana could not sleep—her cough was keeping her awake—and we sat up together talking,” she said, feeling as if she were babbling. “Then I could not fall asleep, and I thought something to read…” she paused, swallowing hard, as her eyes adjusted enough to make out that he was wearing nothing more than shirt and breeches. “… Something to read might help me sleep.” Her mouth felt dry, and her feet seemed rooted to the ground.

“I believe you might be able to find one or two books here,” he said dryly. “Please help yourself.” Or you could come here to me, and I will happily ensure you do not mind being kept awake, my love.

Far too aware of his presence, she turned and selected a book almost at random—it had ‘Sermons’ in the title, at least. She could feel his eyes running over her. The tension palpable in the air, she said, “I think that this should do.” Her gaze was drawn again to the shape of his shoulders, undisguised by waistcoat and tailcoat.

He could see the look of awareness in her eyes. “Go to bed, Elizabeth, while I can still call myself a gentleman,” he said, keeping the tone of his voice lighter than his words would suggest.

She could not help smiling impudently in response. “Good night, William,” she said obediently, a touch of mischief in her voice as she dropped a formal curtsey before turning to leave. She had not gone more than a half dozen steps before she felt her hand seized by his. Slowly she turned to face him, her heart pounding.

“Say that again,” he commanded.

Her breath caught. He looked even more devastatingly attractive from only an arms-length away. It is time for the coward’s way out, she thought. “Good night, Mr. Darcy,” she said sedately.

With a slight smile, he hooked his fingers through the belt of her dressing gown. “Not quite right. Try again, Elizabeth.”

She ran her tongue over her dry lips before finally allowing herself to meet his eyes, knowing full well that he would be able to read in hers how much she desired him. “Good night, William,” she said softly.