| The Deadlock By Sharni Authors note: For this story to make sense you must allow me the presumption of tampering with the timing of Jane's illness by moving it to after her engagement to Bingley. Part 1 Elizabeth sighed and shook her head. What had her mother been thinking? When Elizabeth had sent to Longbourn for her clothes, it did not occur to her that Mrs. Bennet would personally supervise the packing. If her maid, Sarah, had been left to herself Elizabeth would have been provided with comfortable and appropriate clothing. Her mother however, had sent the attire she thought good enough to impress the inhabitants of Netherfield. "Well," thought Elizabeth, "at least with Miss Bingley in the house it is impossible to feel over-dressed." The formality of her day and evening gowns was not, however, the cause of Elizabeth's current distress; it was the nature of her night apparel. Mrs. Bennet had actually raided her daughter's 'hope chest' in order to find 'suitable' nightwear. As a result Elizabeth felt both feminine and elegant, but by no means comfortable nor respectable. Having found herself unable to sleep, Elizabeth was dearly wishing she'd brought with her something to read. She knew a book might provide at least some diversion from the thoughts and distractions, which currently assailed her. For over an hour now she had been yearning to dash to the library. Only the fear of being caught in her current state of dress prevented her. So Elizabeth sat in her room, wide awake, unable to subdue her thoughts. Her mind was again on Mr. Darcy, the handsome, benevolent, enigmatic Mr. Darcy. The sensations he produced in her were like no others she'd ever experienced. She smiled wryly, and shook her head at her former dislike of him. She thought back to their meetings in Derbyshire, and called to mind her awakening to all his good qualities; her awakening to the fact that she actually loved him. An involuntary sigh escaped her lips as her mind followed a more disturbing train of thought. She re-lived his Aunt's insults and accusations, and wondered at the influence Lady Catherine might carry with her nephew. She had half-expected Mr. Darcy not to return from his business in London; particularly after his Aunt's assurance she would 'carry her point'. He had however, returned to Netherfield that very day, and was currently sleeping under the same roof. Elizabeth sighed again. She had to get her mind on to things other than him! How could she even hope he might still want her to be his wife? She had bitterly rejected his proposal, his family was quite violently against such an attachment, and to top off everything else, she was now sister to Wickham. No! She had no room for hope. His behaviour had tended toward silent and grave on the few occasions they'd shared each other's company since Derbyshire... though this evening he had been quite attentive.... "Oh! This will not do!" she said aloud, as she tried to shake herself free of such thoughts. She looked at the clock again. It was twenty minutes to one in the morning. "The whole house must be asleep by now," she murmured to herself. Surely it would be safe enough to make a quick excursion to the library. ~/~ Fitzwilliam Darcy sat brooding in the library; sleep had evaded him yet again. All he wanted was an opportunity to talk to Elizabeth alone, but one never seemed to present itself. His day had been a perfect example. The whole of the journey from London his mind had been occupied with the prospect of seeing Elizabeth once more. He had formulated, over and over again, what he would say to her. He'd summoned enough courage to speak of his continuing affection, ... no... love, toward this beautiful and lively girl whom he could just not forget. His frame of mind had been much improved. Where before he had almost despaired of ever gaining his purpose, now he had a hope that Elizabeth might be growing to love him.In a bizarre turn of fate, his Aunt Catherine had unintentionally given him that hope. As mortified as he was at his Aunt's officious interference, he couldn't help but be grateful it had occurred, as it had spurred him to action. On his arrival he was absolutely delighted to find Elizabeth was in fact staying at Netherfield, in order to nurse her sister who, unfortunately, had been caught in a rainstorm. Elizabeth however had been so much occupied in her attentions to Jane, that he had hardly seen her. When at last she joined the evening party he had tried to draw her out in conversation. Just as he'd begin to relax into her pleasant observations and pert opinions, the ever-present Caroline Bingley, would call his attention away to some topic or other which was obviously designed to specifically exclude Elizabeth, and using Jane as an excuse, Elizabeth did not stay long in the drawing room. "Oh well," he told himself "nothing can be done until the morning." He checked his watch. It was forty minutes past midnight. He really should go to bed. As Darcy rose to retire someone quietly entered the room. He drew in his breath as he saw Elizabeth, and was on the point of addressing her when he thought better of it. It was quite obvious that she wouldn't expect to run across anyone at this time of night, and he had no wish to embarrass her with his unanticipated presence. Withdrawing a little into the shadows, Darcy remained quiet ... until he saw what she was about to do. "Elizabeth, don't close the ..." he paused as he heard the bolt on the lock click into place, "...door." He finished lamely. Elizabeth almost jumped out of her skin, and only just stopped herself from dropping her candle in fright. She turned to him in confusion and simply managed a weak "Mr. Darcy?" Her heart was racing and colour came high in her cheeks; and in the midst of her confused alarm she did not even think of her inappropriate state of dress. Darcy on the other hand, could think of very little else. The light folds of fabric fell over her body, more than hinting at the desirable and soft curves beneath. For a moment he was incapable of rational thought. Her effect on him was paralysing. With an effort he tore his eyes away from her body and moved them to her face. Unfortunately this hardly helped his composure at all. He had never before seen Elizabeth's hair down. Her face was flushed and her eyes alive. Her beauty took his breath away. Forcing himself to breath deeply he managed to speak. Despite his inner turmoil his voice was controlled and gentle. "Elizabeth ... the library has a particular kind of lock. It can only be opened, from both inside and out, with a key. I think you and I are prisoners here until morning." A small "oh!" of dismay was all Elizabeth managed by way of reply. Her mind raced with disbelief at the huge implications of such a small action as closing a door. She had only wished to protect herself from any chance of discovery whilst choosing a book. Now she felt extremely foolish. Here she was, locked in the library with Mr. Darcy until morning. The impropriety of the situation impressed her deeply, and she hoped he'd be forgiving of the situation in which she'd just placed him. Her present agitation however, went deeper than distress at their captivity, and had surprisingly little to do with the fright she'd received upon being so unexpectedly addressed... it was greatly exacerbated by the small thrill she'd experienced when Darcy had, not simply once - but twice, called her Elizabeth. She looked across to find Darcy was now moving toward her whilst removing his coat. Elizabeth stood perfectly still, perplexed in regard to his actions until he held out his coat to her. She stepped back, shaking her head. "No, Mr. Darcy I can't take your coat. It was my action that put us in this situation, and if anyone is going to suffer from cold tonight it should be me." Darcy suppressed a smile at her innocence. "Miss Bennet, you have long known how very attractive I find you," he replied in simple understatement, "I really think you should accept the coat." "But the cold isn't..." began Elizabeth, "...Oh..." her voice faded out as the full implication of Darcy's statement sank in. With heightened colour and down cast eyes she took the coat from his hands. Part 2 Darcy turned and walked back toward the fireplace, giving the dying fire his full attention as he stirred the embers to life and threw on some dry pinecones. As the cones began to burn brightly he placed most of the few remaining logs on top of them, thinking it would be quite cold before the night was over. Elizabeth would have been relieved to know that he was by no means upset with his circumstances. He looked forward to the opportunities the night might hold. Surely this was his chance to talk candidly with her. His good humour however, was slightly disturbed by the thought that it might not be gentlemanly to take advantage of the position they were in. He realised that a declaration of undying love might only increase the awkwardness of their situation, particularly if Elizabeth could not fully return his feelings... Still, there was the wonderful prospect of hours in her society. He would choose to be content with her company, and make this a time where he could again observe her to see if he could discern her feelings more clearly. He would keep things light; he wasn't going to jeopardise his chances with Elizabeth by rushing in when she might not yet be receptive to his offers. Elizabeth meanwhile, was trying to subdue her agitated emotions. She felt silly for having shut the door, embarrassed at her indiscreet attire, very flattered by Mr. Darcy's comment on her attractiveness, and extremely naive at her slowness to pick up the on implication of his words. On top of all this though, she felt a rising excitement; he had unconsciously called her Elizabeth, and he'd admitted that he still found her desirable. A new hope was beginning to bubble within her. She was very grateful he had walked to the other end of the room. She appreciated that he'd sensed her need for some space. She needed time to govern her feelings and gain a little composure. While one part of her yearned to be in his presence, another wanted to crawl into a corner and hide. "Well, it's not going to get any easier," she lectured herself. "You can't stand up here like a fool forever... you have to face him sometime." Darcy looked up as he felt her moving toward the fire. If he'd expected his emotions to be less effected now, he was wrong. The size of his coat overwhelmed her, emphasising her petite frame, and this combined with her hair falling loosely around her face, to make her look very young and vulnerable. He felt a strong protective desire toward her, and smiled wryly as he realised that the only person she could be in need of protection from tonight, would be himself. Elizabeth sat down in a settee next to his chair, and kept her eyes locked firmly on the flames. There the two remained for sometime without speaking a word... Elizabeth felt too embarrassed and Darcy, sensing her discomfort, was not sure of how to proceed. He began to imagine that their silence was to last the whole night, so he made some slight observation on the fire. Elizabeth replied and was again silent. After a pause of some minutes he addressed her a second time with "It's your turn to say something now, Miss Bennet. - I talked of the fire, and you ought to make some kind of remark on the difficulty of heating this size of room, or on the coolness of the weather at this time of year." Elizabeth looked up, startled by his remark. Was he teasing her? It occurred to her how little she really knew him. She was also amazed at his accurate memory of a conversation which he'd appeared to show little interest in almost a year ago and couldn't help but smile as she replied. "Do you talk by rule then, while you are captive in a library with a foolish girl who should have stayed in her room?" "Sometimes," he answered. "One must speak a little you know. It would be odd to be entirely silent for several hours whilst imprisoned together." Darcy felt some of the awkwardness dissipate and was relieved to hear Elizabeth's soft laugh. "You shouldn't blame yourself you know." Darcy said gently. "You had no way of knowing the door would not reopen. In fact, we only discovered the doors contrary nature a few days before leaving Netherfield last year. Actually... Miss Bingley made the discovery. I only have the story second hand as, rather fortunately, I'd left the library only minutes before the incident, and missed out on most of the excitement whilst taking a walk." "Excitement?" Elizabeth queried. "Do tell." "It seems that Miss Bingley had gone into the library in quest of some solitude and a good book, and managed to shut the door behind her." "Oh yes!" said Elizabeth dryly, "I can just see Miss Bingley seeking refuge in a library. Are you quite sure that it was a book she was seeking?" Darcy shot her a quick look and decided to let her question pass. "Well," he continued, "when she found herself trapped she became exceedingly agitated, and the story goes that she nearly screamed the house down. It took Bingley almost an hour to find Mr. Apperly, the caretaker, whom it seems is the holder of the only key... Charles was not particularly popular with his sister that afternoon... nor, for the matter, that evening ... nor, come to think of it, the following day... " Elizabeth laughed at the picture Darcy had just painted. "I'm surprised that she didn't insist the lock be changed at once." "She did!" he replied "but we left for London shortly afterwards, and it didn't get done, and since Charles' return to Netherfield he has had rather more pleasant duties to occupy his time." Elizabeth gave him a heartfelt smile as he alluded to the attachment between Bingley and her sister. Somehow she knew he must have been instrumental in their reconciliation. As Elizabeth was now feeling much more at ease in his company, she tentatively broached the subject that was crying out to be addressed. "Mr. Darcy, I am truly sorry that I've placed us in such a compromising situation. You're being wonderfully nice about it, but what are we going to say tomorrow when we're discovered? How, pray tell, are we going to adequately explain our position? I expect the simple truth will not be easily accepted by some... If Miss Bingley caused a scene at being caught in the library herself, I fear it will be nothing compared to the one she might cause upon finding the two of us trapped together." Darcy had been thinking of this too, and he quickly moved to calm her fears. "I understand your concern Miss Bennet, but I think I know how to deal with this predicament in a way that will leave you're reputation still fully intact." "Sir, I would be so grateful if there were such a way. I fear my family has had enough scandal recently to last us more than a lifetime. It would hurt if I were the means of causing more pain to them." Darcy smiled assurance at her as he went on to explain his plan. It was perfect in its simplicity. "Due to experiencing some sleeplessness lately I've found myself, on more than one occasion, down here before sunrise. At about half six Mr. Apperly invariably makes his rounds of the living areas to set new fires. It seems to me that when we hear his coming, all you need to do is take refuge out of sight, whilst I divert him on some errand or other. This should give you a chance to return to your room unseen." Elizabeth grinned. Her relief and gratitude were almost tangible. "Oh! Mr. Darcy, thank you so much! It seems you may have been put on this earth to protect the reputations of the Bennet girls." Darcy looked up sharply. What did she know? He had vowed to keep things light, but their conversation seemed to have suddenly taken a very serious turn. "To what are you referring, Miss Bennet?" he asked quietly. ``Mr. Darcy, I am a very selfish creature; and, for the sake of giving relief to my own feelings, care not how much I may be wounding yours. I can no longer help thanking you for your unexampled kindness to my poor sister. Ever since I have known it, I have been most anxious to acknowledge to you how gratefully I feel it. Were it known to the rest of my family, I should not have merely my own gratitude to express.'' ``I am sorry, exceedingly sorry,'' replied Darcy, in a tone of surprise and emotion, ``that you have ever been informed of what may, in a mistaken light, have given you uneasiness. I did not think Mrs Gardiner was so little to be trusted.'' ``You must not blame my aunt. Lydia's thoughtlessness first betrayed to me that you had been concerned in the matter; and, of course, I could not rest till I knew the particulars. Let me thank you again and again, in the name of all my family, for that generous compassion which induced you to take so much trouble, and bear so many mortifications, for the sake of discovering them.'' ``If you will thank me,'' he replied, ``let it be for yourself alone. That the wish of giving happiness to you might add force to the other inducements which led me on, I shall not attempt to deny. But your family owe me nothing. Much as I respect them, I believe I thought only of you.'' Elizabeth was too much embarrassed to say a word. In the pause that followed Darcy was tempted to say more, but seeing Elizabeth's averted eyes, and remembering his earlier resolution, the words remained unspoken. Part 3 Silence again hung in the air, though this one was heavy with a different emotion to the one they had experienced earlier. It was as if too much had been spoken, but not enough had been said, all at the same time. Neither had been able to discern where they really stood with the other, and though both wished the other would say more, they had not the courage to venture further themselves. Eventually Elizabeth broke the impasse by repeating some of her earlier thanks. "Mr. Darcy, I can't effectively put my gratitude into words. You are just too good a man." "Too good for my own benefit." He quietly muttered, to himself rather than to Elizabeth. Then he saw with alarm that she had caught his words. Elizabeth was looking at him with an expression of concern. "Are you regretting the cost of your benevolence?" she asked, unsure of as to how she should interpret his comment. "No Miss Bennet, I assure you I have no regrets on that score." Elizabeth was relieved on that account, but was now totally at a loss to know his meaning. She fixed her eyes on him in expectation of further explanation, but none seemed to be forthcoming. Darcy felt discomforted under her gaze. He knew she was waiting for a clarification as to his meaning, and though it was very clear in his mind what he had meant, he didn't feel inclined to share it with Elizabeth. He exerted himself to speak - making a, not so subtle, attempt to try to turn the conversation away from his inadvertent words. "I believe Jane is much better now. Her illness must have been a matter of much concern a few days ago." A short 'Yes', was all he received by way of reply. Her questioning eyes didn't leave his face. Darcy sensed she would not easily let his comment pass. "Bingley seems the happiest I have seen him in a long while," he tried again. She attempted no answer this time; her eyes still fixed upon his. He could read in them amusement at his discomposure, but he saw no weakening in their purpose. Darcy shifted slightly in his seat. As much as he wished his words unspoken, they were out there now. As Elizabeth watched his increasing unease, her amusement seemed to grow. Her eyes also held what could only be considered a challenge; a challenge he decided he had no alternative but to accept. "Are you really sure you wish to know my meaning?" he asked at last, with what could almost be called a devastatingly rakish smile. "Quite," was her simple reply, as she adjusted her position to face him squarely, and demurely folded her silk skirts around her. "Pray continue Sir." "Well Miss Bennet, it's really quite simple. As I contemplated our situation it could not but occur to me that, if I left it for us to be discovered in this - you have to admit - somewhat suspicious circumstance, things could very well work out very much in my favour." "Oh...? How so Sir?" The look on her face was priceless. How good it felt to have her on the back foot for once. "You might be forced to marry me," he grinned. "Common decency, not to mention your father with a shot gun, would demand it." His words were spoken lightly, but he knew his meaning was in deadly earnest. Elizabeth forced herself to breathe slowly. She knew her heart was racing, and hoped he would interpret her heightened colour as a reflection from the fire. "Contrary to previously expressed opinion," she replied, "I can think of worse fates." She tried mimic his playful tone, but as she glanced up she caught a seriousness in his expression. With an effort this time, she managed to hold his eye. The intensity of his gaze was sending her senses reeling. In turn the look in Elizabeth's eye melted all Darcy's earlier resolution. "Elizabeth, You are too generous to trifle with me. If your feelings are still what they were last April, tell me so at once. My affections and wishes are unchanged, but one word from you will silence me on this subject forever." Before Elizabeth even replied, Darcy had his answer in her beautifully expressive eyes. Even in his anxiety, he could not misread the delight and joy that they held. Relief flooded through his whole being and was quickly followed by an intense ecstasy. The delight he felt as she went on to tell him of her feelings, was like that which he'd never before experienced, and his next impulse was to take her in his arms, as he had done so - time and time again - in his dreams, but he did not wish to overwhelm her. So they remained in their seats, only touching with their eyes, as he shared with Elizabeth thoughts and feelings he would never be able to share with another person. As she began to understand him more, her already full esteem threatened to overflow, and she realised that the love they felt was just the beginning. It was now a time of complete openness as they talked on about their past; their mistakes, misconceptions and misunderstandings. They spoke of families and loved ones, shared their hopes for the future... As the morning wore on, their initial euphoria was replaced by a deep-seated happiness and contentment and eventually they settled into a comfortable silence. Elizabeth was just on the point of sleep when she was disturbed by Darcy's movement. He stood and stretched; an easy graceful motion. She took the opportunity to admire his strong physique, and was surprised by the thrill it sent through her body. He knelt and stirred the fire's dying embers before putting on the last lonely piece of wood and she was startled fully wake by the realisation that a chill had set into the room and, while she lay curled in his coat, he must be quite cold. "Mr. Darcy", she ventured quietly. "Elizabeth, I thought you were asleep. Did I wake you?" " No Sir, I had not quite found sleep yet. You must pardon my thoughtlessness. It's only occurred to me how cold you must be. If you sit by me, we can share the coat." It was an extremely attractive proposition, and one he would dearly have loved to accede to, but the memory of how she had looked upon entering the library made him think better of it. He wanted Elizabeth's trust and respect, and though he was a man of strength and control, he didn't think he was fully equal to dealing with the temptation of such an alluring situation. "No Elizabeth, keep the coat," he said, on the surface very calmly. "I would not however, object to sitting by you." She smiled a welcome as he sat at the other end of the settee, facing her slightly. As if by instinct Elizabeth changed the inclination of her body, and reclined into the shape of his. She rested her head on his chest as a strong arm came around her and held her firmly. A sheer pleasure at their closeness wrapped around them. "By the way," Darcy eventually whispered "given our situation don't you think 'Mr. Darcy' and 'Sir' sound a little formal?" "Well, 'Mr. Darcy'... 'Sir', what would you have me call you?" He could hear the smile in her voice. "My family always call me William." " William..." she said, as though trying it on for size. "William... Will... yes that will do nicely... William, are you sure you don't want some of the coat?" "Elizabeth..." he spoke softly, but his tone left no room for argument, "...keep the coat." Part 4 Darcy awoke, feeling more refreshed than he had for many a month. He looked down at the figure curled against him and his joy from the proceeding night flooded back. She was his, she loved him; his life was now whole. He wouldn't have minded staying as he was all day, but he knew he had to prepare himself for Mr. Apperly's arrival. Now that he finally had Elizabeth's love, he was not going to let their union begin under the cloud of a scandal. No-one was going to be able to imply that they had to get married, or that she'd somehow trapped him. The disparity of their fortunes would be cause enough for questioning; he was not going to allow any more fuel be added to the flame. He very much wished to check the time but his watch was under Elizabeth, so with a steady caution he drew back slowly as he tried to gain access to his time piece. "Good morning sweetheart," he whispered softly as Elizabeth began to stir. "I was trying not to disturb you. You were so touchingly curled up." She smiled up at him, marvelling at her good fortune. "So it wasn't all a delightful dream," she replied, startled at the intimacy of her words, "You really are mine?" "Always and completely," came his soft answer. They stayed as they were, whispering to each other contentedly. Occasionally Elizabeth would give a soft laugh, her joy threatening to overflow. In too short a time (by their reckoning) they heard what they had been listening for. Mr. Apperly was obviously on the move so, reluctantly, Darcy extricated his body from Elizabeth's. "Stay low," he whispered, "and don't worry - I'll head him off before he comes into the room." He placed a soft kiss on her hair before walking away. Elizabeth did as she was told, and listened to his footsteps as he retreated to a seat by the door. She felt the emptiness beside her like a gaping hole, and agitation was creeping in to fill the void. She no longer felt secure. She'd rather be by William's side. The waiting was indeterminable. She gave a slight start as she again heard footsteps, and sank lower on the settee. Mr. Apperly was walking softly but in the silence his footfalls sounded deafening. Elizabeth held her breath as she listened to the key turn in the door. Her pulse began to race in time with her thoughts. Maybe William would not be able to stall him; what if they were discovered? Then she heard Darcy's voice sounding cool and casual, and her fears melted away. "Good day Mr. Apperly, I'm particularly glad to see you this morning." "Mr. Darcy," came Mr. Apperly's startled reply. "I thoughtlessly pulled the door closed behind me and had to spend last night here." Darcy explained. "Must have been damned uncomfortable." muttered Mr. Apperly. "Yes! Terrible night!" Darcy teasingly replied - knowing full well Elizabeth would be able to hear every word. Elizabeth repressed the urge to giggle. "I wonder if I could trouble you to set the fire in the kitchen. I could really do with a cup of tea." "Fire's already set Sir," replied Mr. Apperly. "If you come with me I'll fetch you the makings of a cuppa." "Thank you... " Darcy's voice faded along with his footsteps as he and Mr. Apperly moved to the kitchen. Elizabeth didn't waste any time. She was on her feet and upstairs in a moment. It was only when she was safely in her room she realised she was still wearing his coat. She laughed, "Out of the frying pan and into the fire. How am I going to explain what this is doing in my room!" She sat down, hugging the coat to her, not wishing to take it off. It had his smell on it, and reminded her of his touch. She drifted off into a happy revere, until she was brought back by a light knock on the door and a softly whispered "Elizabeth". She opened the door quietly and smiled to find Darcy offering her a cup of tea. "I thought you might need this," he said simply, and was about to move off as Elizabeth's hand came out to stay him. "Sir, you have forgotten your coat." She put her tea on a stand near the door, then paused as she realised returning his coat would again leave her exposed. Darcy sensing her discomfort, turned his head and concentrated on a particularly ugly painting down the hallway. Elizabeth reluctantly removed his coat and pushed it toward him. As he reached out to accept it their hands touched and Darcy could not bring himself to pull away. His eyes were drawn to hers and there was nothing for it but to kiss her. The kiss lingered, light and tender, holding the promise of things to come. There was a sharp click, and the hall clock began to strike seven. Instantly they were feet apart. "I think that's telling me it's time I was off," Darcy smiled guiltily. "It might be right," Elizabeth grinned back. With one more soft kiss he was gone. Epilogue Darcy sat alone in the library, head back, eyes closed and a slight frown on his face. The wedding was fast approaching and a number of guests were again dining at Netherfield. As the men had withdrawn for brandy Darcy had availed himself of the opportunity for a small escape. He needed some solitude. "Only three more days and I'll have her to myself," he thought, "I just have to survive three more days!" Darcy admired how both Bingley and Elizabeth were able to cheerfully deal with people; hoards and hoards of people! As their wedding day drew closer the number of people and social commitments seemed to multiply out of hand. Opportunities for quiet solitude and (more importantly) for precious time alone with Elizabeth, had become almost non-existent, and this was all beginning to take its toll on the more reserved Mr. Darcy. Elizabeth on the other hand, coped with everyone and every thing with her customary liveliness; her spirits ever rising as the day of their wedding drew nearer. At the same time however, she seemed to have a sixth sense for the feelings of her future husband. She always took the time to protect him from the more trying of the preparations and social obligations, steering him toward those with which he would feel more comfortable. On top of this she had a knack of manufacturing 'little minutes' of time alone... time where she could let him know how much he was loved and appreciated, leaving Darcy certain that in Elizabeth he had found all the desires of his heart. Darcy sighed and reluctantly acknowledged that it was time for him to rejoin the men. As he rose to leave someone quietly entered the room. He experienced a strong sense of déjà vu upon looking across and seeing Elizabeth. He drew in his breath. The power her beauty held over him had not diminished and, though he would have thought it impossible on that blissful night six weeks ago, her allure had only increased and his desires multiplied. "William!" she turned a devastating smile on him, "Hiding again." It was a statement not a question. "As ever," he smiled back, "and to what do I owe the pleasure of your company?" "My Aunt Gardiner wanted me to fetch a copy of John Donne's writings for her. She left the one she was reading in London." "Blessings on her!" said Darcy sincerely, "She is always of such wonderful use... Elizabeth, have I told you how absolutely stunning you look this evening?" His eyes wandered unashamedly over her form, lingering appreciatively at her some-what daring neckline, as he casually walked toward her and pulled her to himself. "As a matter of fact you have," murmured Elizabeth, as his lips began to graze on her neck, "but feel free to tell me again." She shivered as he moved his lips up to just behind her ear, and she slipped up her hand to run her fingers through the hair at the back of his head. Darcy was just surrendering himself to the passion of their exchange when Elizabeth abruptly pulled back. "William, did I hear Jane say that Mr. Bingley shouted all non-essential staff the night at the Meryton inn?" "Yes, in gratitude for the extra work they've been putting in lately." He pulled her back to himself, at a loss to understand why Elizabeth wanted to waste these few stolen moments talking of Bingley's domestic arrangements. Elizabeth began to speak again, but she found her self roughly silenced by a hungry kiss. One of his arms tightened firmly around her waist to hold her close to him, while his other hand slipped up to the back of her neck, his thumb moving softly to caress her jaw line. Elizabeth however, was still not co-operating, and squirmed to pull back yet again. "Is Mr. Apperly with them?" Darcy slightly released his grip, a smile beginning to creep onto his face as he began to comprehend the direction of her questioning. "Why yes, I believe he is." "And what time would they be expected back?" she continued her inquiries. "Given the amount of money Bingley gave them to celebrate with..." Darcy's smile was deepening, "...I wouldn't expect them back until the 'wee small hours' of the morning." He released Elizabeth fully, but his eyes followed her appreciatively as she walked demurely to the library entrance. He continued to watch her with amused delight, as she deliberately reached out her hand and pulled the door firmly closed. The End |
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