Page 6 of Mr. Darcy’s Storm of Temptation (Seasons of A Steamy Pride and Prejudice Variation)
Their last full day at Pemberley dawned gray and misty, matching Elizabeth's melancholic mood. Tomorrow morning they would depart for Longbourn, and she did not know when she would see Mr. Darcy again.
After breakfast, he suggested a final walk. The Gardiners, now more trusting, allowed them to go with just a housemaid as chaperone and a stern look from Mrs. Gardiner that said, "behave."
They walked in comfortable silence until they reached a secluded grove. The housemaid, well-trained in the art of chaperoning courting couples, stationed herself at the entrance, suddenly fascinated by the rose bushes that required extensive examination.
The moment they were sufficiently hidden from view, Mr. Darcy pulled Elizabeth into his arms.
"I cannot bear the thought of tomorrow," he said roughly. "Watching you leave and not being able to follow."
"How long?" she asked, pressing closer. "How long must we wait?"
He groaned, resting his forehead against hers.
"At least a fortnight. I have nearly forty tenant families coming to Pemberley for the harvest meetings.
With the poor weather this spring and several leases requiring renegotiation, they need to hear directly from me, not my steward, that their concerns will be addressed. "
"Of course you must stay," Elizabeth said, though her heart sank. "Your tenants depend on you."
"I confess I have never resented my responsibilities more. But these families have worked the Pemberley land for generations. I owe them my personal attention." His jaw clenched with visible frustration. "The moment the last meeting is concluded, nothing will keep me from you. I swear it."
"I would not respect you if you abandoned them for me," Elizabeth said.
"And that," he said roughly, "is one of the many reasons I love you. You understand duty, even when it torments us both."
He kissed her then, deep and passionate, pouring all his longing into the connection. His hands roamed her body with more freedom than before, knowing she was his, that she had promised herself to him.
"I have something for you," he said when they finally broke apart, both breathing hard. He reached into his pocket, pulling out a small velvet box he had been carrying since breakfast, waiting for the right moment. "I retrieved this from my mother's jewels this morning."
Inside was a ring: a sapphire surrounded by diamonds, elegant and obviously precious.
"It was my mother's," he said softly. "I want you to have it, to wear it, to know that you are mine even when we are apart."
"Fitzwilliam, it is beautiful," she breathed as he slipped it onto her finger.
"It pales compared to you," he said simply.
They stayed in the grove as long as they dared, kissing, touching, whispering promises and endearments, always mindful of the housemaid's patient presence nearby. When they finally emerged, both were somewhat disheveled despite their attempts at restraint.
The housemaid, Sarah, kept her eyes politely averted as she fell into step behind them, though Elizabeth caught what might have been a small smile.
Mrs. Gardiner was in the morning room when they returned. She took one look at them, noting Elizabeth's flushed cheeks and mussed hair, and sighed deeply.
"Elizabeth, perhaps you should refresh yourself before luncheon," she suggested pointedly. "And Mr. Darcy, I trust you will remember that despite your engagement, certain proprieties must be maintained."
"Of course, Mrs. Gardiner," Mr. Darcy said, though his eyes never left Elizabeth's face.
Their last dinner at Pemberley was bittersweet. Georgiana was near tears at the thought of losing Elizabeth so soon after gaining her.
"You will visit again soon," Mr. Darcy promised his sister. "And after we are married, Elizabeth will live here."
"Really?" Georgiana brightened. "Oh, Elizabeth, we shall be true sisters!"
After dinner, while the Gardiners were engaged in conversation with Georgiana, Mr. Darcy drew Elizabeth into his private study, leaving the door properly ajar as propriety demanded.
"We should not," she whispered, even as she moved into his arms.
"I know," he said, his voice rough with need. "But tomorrow you leave, and I need..."
"What do you need?" she asked softly.
"You," he said simply. "Just to hold you once more before we must be proper and distant."
He kissed her desperately, walking her backward until she was pressed against his desk. His hands found her waist, pulling her close enough that she could feel his heart racing against hers.
"Elizabeth," he groaned against her mouth. "These two weeks will be torture."
"For me as well," she gasped. "This ache, this need for you grows stronger every day."
His hands tightened on her waist. "When we are married," he promised against her throat, "I will spend hours worshipping you, learning every place that makes you sigh, every touch that brings you pleasure."
"Fitzwilliam," she whimpered, her hands fisting in his coat.
Footsteps in the hall made them spring apart.
"Brother?" Georgiana's voice called from the doorway. "Mrs. Gardiner is looking for Miss Elizabeth."
"Thank you, dearest," Mr. Darcy said, his voice remarkably steady considering his state. "We shall be along directly."
Georgiana glanced between them, taking in Elizabeth's heightened color and her brother's disordered hair, and blushed. "I shall tell her you are discussing... books."
After she fled, Elizabeth pressed her hands to her burning cheeks. "She knows exactly what we were doing."
"She is sixteen, not six," Mr. Darcy said with a slight smile. "And she loves you. She will say nothing."
That night, Elizabeth's last in the Blue Room, she heard a soft knock at her door. She opened it to find Mr. Darcy in the hallway, still fully dressed.
"I had to see you once more," he said softly. He did not enter, remaining properly in the hallway while she stood in her doorway, the door serving as a barrier between them. "Tomorrow, in front of everyone, I must be perfectly proper."
"Then be a little improper now," she whispered, reaching out to take his hand.
He lifted her hand to his lips, pressing a lingering kiss to her palm. "You will undo me entirely."
"Good," she said. "I want you to think of me every moment we are apart. I want you to burn for me as I burn for you."
"I will," he promised, his thumb stroking over her knuckles. "Every moment until I see you again."
They stood there for a long moment, hands clasped across the threshold, neither wanting to let go.
"I love you," she whispered.
"And I love you," he replied. "More than words can express."
Finally, reluctantly, he released her hand and stepped back. "Sleep well, my love."
"You know I will not."
"Nor will I," he admitted, then turned and walked away before his control shattered entirely.
The next morning's farewell was agony wrapped in propriety. The carriages were loaded, the Gardiners already seated. Mr. Darcy handed Elizabeth up with perfect formality, though his fingers lingered on hers a moment longer than necessary.
"Safe travels, Miss Elizabeth," he said, loud enough for all to hear. Then, more quietly, "Write to Georgiana. She will ensure I receive anything you wish to send."
"I will," she promised, clutching his hand briefly. "Two weeks?"
"Two weeks at most," he confirmed, his voice low and intense. "The moment my duty is discharged, I will come to you."
As the carriage pulled away, Elizabeth turned to watch Pemberley disappear. Mr. Darcy stood on the steps, a solitary figure watching her leave. Even from a distance, she felt the intensity of his gaze.
"Two weeks," she whispered to herself, her hand moving to touch the ring hidden beneath her glove. "Only two weeks."
Mrs. Gardiner reached over and patted her hand sympathetically. "The time will pass quickly, my dear."
Elizabeth managed a small smile, though her heart already ached with missing him. Two weeks felt like an eternity, but she would endure it. She had his ring, his promise, and the memory of his kiss to sustain her.
Soon, she told herself. Soon he would come to Longbourn, speak to her father, and then nothing would keep them apart.