“I see,” said Elizabeth, distracted by the exquisite sensations he was creating with his urgent caresses, but making a valiant attempt to continue the conversation. “Well, I cannot deny that there was a time I liked him better than you, but—” Her words were stopped as he captured her mouth, exploring it with a forceful and intoxicating thoroughness which threatened to deprive her of the possibility of rational speech. “…But as we both know, that was based on a misapprehension, and it is quite some time that I have loved you far more than I ever liked him.” Having managed to say her piece, she finally allowed herself the guilty pleasure of surrendering once more to the passionate demands of his lips.

“He gave some thought to asking you to marry him, before deciding it was too imprudent financially,” Darcy said, his hands beginning an insistent exploration of the curves of her body which threatened to overwhelm Elizabeth with fiery sensations.

“Well, under the circumstances, I am glad he did not; it would make things quite uncomfortable now, I would imagine,” she said, struggling to stop her voice from shaking.

“Would you have refused him, then?” Darcy’s voice was tense.

She hoped desperately that he was unable to tell just how thoroughly he had devastated her defenses with his passionate advances, and how much she wished he would not stop. “I truly cannot say what I would have done; I had only known him for three weeks, after all. I can only say that had I accepted him, I would have missed something far deeper.”

He gripped her tightly. “Is that true? It is vain of me, I know, to want to be more important to you than any other man could have been.”

“Have you never considered, my love, that I have always had a strong response to you? Even when I disliked you, I did so with a passion. Had I never met you, in all likelihood I could have found a man whom I could have learned to love, but I cannot believe it would have been with such depth, so… without reserve.” She was amazed that she could speak so openly to him of her feelings, especially when her vulnerability to him was so great.

“Thank you,” he responded, his voice muffled by her hair. “I know I should not need to hear such reassurance, but I do.”

“Well, if you think I never have similar moments of anxiety about your regard, you are mistaken,” she said softly.

He looked at her in astonishment. “You do? Why, in heaven’s name, would you have the slightest doubt?”

She laughed and wound her arms around his neck. “Because I love you. Because I need you. Because I am all too human.” She kissed him lingeringly, earning his full cooperation in the endeavor as he gathered her close, the touch of his lips becoming gentle and seductive.

“Because tomorrow cannot come soon enough,” he added. He ran a finger across her lips, still somewhat swollen from his earlier ardor. “I have to warn you that no one seeing you tonight is going to be in doubt about what we have been doing out here.” He trailed tantalizing kisses across her face.

“Do you think any of them will be surprised?”

“Well, if our guilt is to be obvious, I suppose that I might as well indulge myself a bit further,” he replied, recapturing her lips. Giving in to an urge which had long tempted him, he ran his fingers deep into her hair, heedless of disrupting its careful styling. The intimacy of his touch caused her to arch herself against him, and he responded immediately by deepening the kiss, sending shivers of delight through her.

“You should send me away, my love, since I would happily stay here with you half the night,” he said, demonstrating the truth of his words as he took his pleasure from her lips again.

She could not resist the opportunity, and said provocatively, “Well, you will need your rest for tomorrow.”

He responded as she had known he would, pulling her to him hungrily and placing demanding kisses along her neck and shoulders until she was trembling with desire. “You need have no worries in that regard, madam,” he responded. He tangled his fingers in her disheveled hair again, encouraging some silky locks to escape their close binding and fall along her flushed cheeks, and deeply enjoying seeing the results of his lovemaking in her appearance. With a mild possessive vindictiveness, he hoped that his cousin caught a good glimpse of her before she made herself presentable again.

She looked up at him with unconscious seductiveness, allowing her fingers to stray along the warm skin of his neck above his cravat. “I don’t want you to go,” she admitted softly.

He closed his eyes. He knew that she had no notion of how near he was to taking advantage of her responsiveness and need, nor how powerfully his jealousy, justified or not, made him long to possess her. Carefully he removed her hands, and with a chaste kiss to each, joined them together and stepped away from her. In his most controlled voice, he said, “Elizabeth, no more provocation tonight, if you please.”

She regarded him carefully. “I will bid you good night, then, Mr. Darcy.”

“Good night, Miss Bennet.” Recalling that it was the last time he would ever refer to her by that appellation, he smiled. “The next words I want to hear out of those lovely lips of yours are when you tell the parson ‘I will’ tomorrow morning.” Unable to completely resist temptation, he kissed her once more with deep ardor, then took his leave.

Elizabeth sighed and wrapped her arms around herself as she watched him ride out of sight, then smiled and returned to the house.

*   *   *

“Mr. Darcy, you look particularly elegant this morning,” said Jane over breakfast the following morning.

“Thank you, Mrs. Bingley. I hope your sister shares your opinion,” he responded agreeably.

“Are you off to Longbourn this morning, then?”

Darcy busied himself with his food. “Yes, I expect to be there later, and then off to London this afternoon.” Both Elizabeth and Bingley had been enjoying keeping Jane in the dark about the morning’s events, and he would not be the one to spoil their amusement.

Jane looked concerned. “You are leaving today? Lizzy mentioned nothing of it—does she know?”

“Mmm, yes, she is well acquainted with my plans.”

“We also have an engagement this morning, darling,” said Bingley cheerfully, as if social calls on the day after one’s wedding were nothing to be remarked on. “We will need to set out shortly after breakfast.”

“Really? What is the occasion?”

“Ummm… it’s a surprise,” said Bingley, smiling broadly at Darcy.

“I take it that this is no surprise to you, Mr. Darcy.”

Darcy stood. “Far be it from me to interfere between a new husband and wife, Mrs. Bingley. If you will excuse me,” he said with a smile, taking his leave.

*   *   *

Elizabeth was, as usual, the first of her family to come downstairs in the morning, and, after a brief turn about the grounds in lieu of her usual morning ramble, she sat down alone for a light breakfast. Within a few minutes she was joined by Georgiana and Kitty, followed soon thereafter by Colonel Fitzwilliam, who chose a seat next to her. She greeted him warmly, but found that she felt somewhat discomfited by his presence after Darcy’s revelations of the previous night.

“I must admit that I was quite surprised to receive Darcy’s letter that you and he were to be wed,” he said in a measured manner. “I had guessed at Rosings that he admired you, but I must admit I had thought you less taken with him.”

“That is, I take it, a tactful way of saying that it appeared that I disliked him heartily,” Elizabeth said with a laugh.

“I certainly do not mean to imply that there was any… discord between you,” he replied.

“Well, it is quite true; I did have an aversion to his company then, owing primarily to some misapprehensions about his behavior.”

“I am glad you were able to resolve them, then. It is, indeed, a most prudent match for you.”

Elizabeth looked sharply at him. Was he implying what she thought he was? Despite his neutral tone, she suspected a true concern on his part, as well as, perhaps, an element of the same feelings that had plagued Darcy about him. “Georgiana,” she said with a cheerful smile, “Colonel Fitzwilliam is worried I am marrying your brother for his wealth, and that I have no true regard for him.”

Georgiana and Kitty looked at each other and burst into peals of laughter. Colonel Fitzwilliam said hastily, “I certainly did not mean to imply anything of the sort, Miss Bennet; I am certain you would only marry for the best of reasons.”

“Do not trouble yourself, sir; it is a perfectly reasonable conjecture on your part,” she responded amiably. “It is, however, quite untrue.”

Georgiana finally stopped laughing long enough to respond. “Oh, Richard, wait until you have a chance to see them together a bit more—they are so enamored of each other that the rest of us might as well be in China! I would venture they would not even notice if none of us came to the wedding!”

“They are always gazing into each other’s eyes, or watching the other from across the room,” Kitty added. “It can be quite embarrassing to see!”

“And then they go off by themselves again and again, and return looking so very calm and saintly, and no one is fooled at all, because they have been caught so often, but everyone knows that there is no winning an argument with either of them,” said Georgiana.

Kitty giggled. “Do you remember what Father said yesterday? He looked at his watch and said, ‘I wonder how long they will be this time!’”

“If I am ever caught in any misbehavior in the future, I will only have to remind Fitzwilliam of this time, and he will be unable to make any complaint!”