Page 24

Elizabeth gasped as Darcy nibbled at her collarbone.

She had to have no idea how her innocent responses drove him mad with want!

Since that evening in the gardens at Lucas Lodge, she had allowed a few chaste kisses—as much as his kisses could be considered chaste—but her behaviour with him had become less guarded.

She teased him more freely and arched that blasted eyebrow that made him want to whisk her to the nearest bedchamber and throw her down on the bed.

As it was, she would drive him to Bedlam.

He could not object to her methods, however. She now owned his heart—completely.

Even though employing his best dignified restraint, Darcy could not take it anymore.

He needed her lips on his like he needed the air to breathe.

She whimpered when he pulled her back against him and kissed her as though he was starved for her, which he was.

Her hands slipped inside his great coat and clung to his sides, the press of her small hands wreaking havoc on his control.

What was he thinking? Control was not possible when it came to Elizabeth Bennet.

She not only owned his heart, but also his body.

No one else could compare. And they had yet to be wed!

His palm slid over her breast, and he drew back just a little. He had to witness her response to his touch. She was intoxicating, yet he wanted her to be just as lost as he had become.

Her teeth dug into her bottom lip as he traced his thumb around the centre. “Fitzwilliam.” Her voice was husky and held a quality that he longed to hear while he buried himself inside of her. A Herculean effort was required to wrench himself from her softness and step back.

“Forgive me. ”

She slumped against the tree behind her while she breathed heavily. “What have you done that requires forgiveness?”

He chuckled. “I cannot reason when we kiss like that. You have no idea how much I wish we were already married.” Darcy propped his hands on his thighs and squeezed his eyes closed in an effort to make his erection subside.

Of course, it was stubborn. He needed to forget that she was in front of him panting and somewhat dishevelled.

“My entire body is on fire.”

When he opened his eyes, she ran her palm along her stomach while he focussed on his breathing to calm himself. As if that would ever work with her touching herself.

“Fitzwilliam, are you in pain?”

“A little, but the discomfort will soon pass.”

She pushed away from the tree and hastened to his side. “If I am the cause, I should be the one begging your forgiveness.”

He straightened and pulled her into his arms. “You have no need to beg forgiveness. I know what I am doing when we are together. The fault is entirely my own.”

Her gaze lowered between them, and she tilted her head. “What is—?”

His hand grasped hers, and he laced their fingers together. “You will discover the answer to that question soon enough. In the meantime, I need to think of something else.”

“Tell me of Pemberley,” she said. Her gaze met his once more, her vivid green eyes holding his with ease.

“Well, the estate is old, though not as old as Longbourn.

My family was gifted the land by William the Conqueror.

My grandfather decided the original house was not grand enough, so he decided to add to it and remodel the older portion to match the new.

The original structure is now the east wing of the house where the family rooms are located .

“The park is approximately ten miles around and includes the Nine Ladies stone circle as well as a large portion of the River Derwent.

A tributary of that river feeds a sizeable lake on the property that is excellent for fishing.

My father saw to it several follies were erected around the lake.

I cannot wait to walk those pathways with you.

You will adore the prospect from a good number of places.

“The house itself sits in a valley with a forest behind the gardens. We have an extensive herb garden for potions. Mrs. Reynolds, the housekeeper, is adept at potion making and keeps us all hale.” Elizabeth admired nature so much.

He could not imagine her disliking the Peak or Pemberley.

What he wanted more than anything was for her to love the estate as he did. It would be their home after all.

She toyed with his cravat. She did that often when they were close as they were. The pin fascinated her, and she would circle it with her fingertip. Her rapt interest was likely because she had seen it more than once in her visions.

“If you recall, you have seen a room of Pemberley during the first probe of the altar. You also saw some of the grounds when you had the vision of me and Richard riding.”

Her forehead furrowed, and he brushed his thumb along the creases. “What is wrong?”

“What is Nine Ladies like? Is it similar to our stone circle?”

He turned to lean against the tree and brought her between his legs so she could lean against him. Hen grazed nearby undisturbed by their activities.

“Nine Ladies is quite different. Your circle has the larger stones near the altar, which is flat upon the ground, while Nine Ladies is nine stones mostly buried in the earth. One is a bit flat on top, but it is nothing like your altar. The only similarity is the range of the stones. They are arranged at a similar diameter, not that their size determines their power. One could easily dismiss their significance by sight alone.”

A slight curve graced her lips. “I look forward to seeing them and learning their special qualities.”

All stone circles had their own signature, so to speak, depending upon the vein of magic that fed them.

Stonehenge and Oakham were sourced from the same vein, so their magic was similar, though Oakham seemed to be a little more powerful.

It was no wonder with the number of people who crowded to Stonehenge.

He had witnessed those with less power touching certain stones and mumbling spells to increase their skills.

People needed to cease believing those old wives’ tales.

All they ended up doing was wasting time and money on a fruitless endeavour.

She lifted onto her tiptoes and kissed his cheek. “I should go inside. Papa will become unsettled if I do not return soon.” With whomever was acquiring power possibly nearby, her father’s uneasiness would be understandable.

He traced a finger along her cheek. “I should be on my way to Netherfield. I am sure Bingley will be wondering why I have yet to return since he believes I have been riding all this time.”

Her bubbling laugh made him smile. “Does he really?”

He shrugged one shoulder. “In all fairness, I depart before he awakens, and I do not usually see any servants on my way out of the house. One of my own men saddles my horse, and he does not share my activities with anyone.”

She walked with him to fetch Hen. “As long as the weather is decent, we shall meet here tomorrow?”

“If it is raining, I shall come to Longbourn to help your father research whatever magic is being used to steal powers.”

He kissed her forehead then mounted. “Now, you know I shall watch you until you are inside the house, so do not just stand there.”

She scoffed. “As you are aware, I can protect myself. ”

He remained in his spot until she turned on her heel with a huff and marched back to Longbourn. Before opening the door to the kitchens, she glanced over her shoulder with a mischievous grin. As soon as she stepped inside, he turned Hen to make his to return to Netherfield.

As he rode, he could not remove the smile upon his countenance.

He had not been so happy in years. Elizabeth’s recalcitrance, while frustrating at times, was largely endearing.

She was correct when she said he knew she could protect herself.

Her skills would overwhelm most, but whoever she would eventually face would not be like most people.

By robbing others of their abilities, this worrisome individual would be powerful.

Even if the person who was the first victim was of a middling power, the duke’s magic alone was formidable.

Many magical families had died out or ceased to believe over the centuries, leaving about a quarter of the country as magic.

If this creature continued, their pursuit of power could be devastating.

Upon his return, his groom took Hen, and he hastened his steps into the house, where the servants were hurrying about as though lost.

“What is happening?” he asked the housekeeper.

“Miss Bingley invited Miss Bennet for tea. She has insisted the entire house be cleaned from top to bottom and has threatened to dismiss the maids should their work not be satisfactory.”

He took in the maids who were all wiping furniture or removing the draperies in the drawing room to be taken outside and shaken. “What is her reasoning? Miss Bennet would never expect such a fuss to be made over her.”

Mrs. Nichols glanced about them, then leaned closer. “If you will pardon me, sir, I believe Miss Bingley thinks this will show her superiority over the Bennets. ”

An incredulous bark escaped before he could stop it.

Miss Bingley was the most ignorant person he had ever met.

It was not as if Bingley had neglected to explain so many different situations in life to her, yet instead of learning, she had refused to listen and repeatedly interrupted him with every attempt.

Miss Bingley believed she was above his advice.

“I do not suppose she invited Miss Elizabeth too.” If she had, then perhaps he could find another stolen moment with her.

The housekeeper shook her head. “Unfortunately, she did not. I believe Miss Bingley would prefer to chew off her own hand than pen an invite to your betrothed.”

He made an indecorous noise with his nose at the housekeeper’s quip. “I shall refresh myself and return to have tea with Mr. Bingley should he ask.”

She gave a dip of her chin. “Of course, sir.”

When Elizabeth entered Longbourn, her mother’s strident tones carried down to the kitchen.

“What has Mama in a fit of nerves?”

Mrs. Hill looked up from kneading bread. “Miss Bennet received an invitation to tea with those Bingley sisters. Your sister wishes to go and requested the carriage from your father, but your mother insists she ride on horseback since it looks like rain.”

She clenched her teeth to keep her jaw from dropping. “Mama is hoping Jane will need to spend the night.” Of all the conniving, rude, and insufferable things to do, Mama had picked the worst.

“Precisely, miss.”

Without another word, Elizabeth hurried through the house and entered the breakfast parlour where her mother was standing in front of her chair and yelling at Papa. A dish of toast flew from the table, barely missed her father’s head, and slammed into the wall behind him.

Jane made to rise, but Papa shook his head. “And yet, I am unmoved. I shall have the carriage prepared for Jane. She will not impose herself upon the Bingleys any more than necessary.” He nodded to Elizabeth. “Lizzy, you will accompany her.”

“Lizzy! Accompany Jane!” screeched Mama. “Whatever for?”

Elizabeth had the same question.

“I do not expect you to understand my concerns,” said Papa.

Her mother threw up her hands and let them fall. “You have confined Lydia and Kitty to the house, and none of the girls can leave without someone attending them. Meanwhile, your favourite leaves every morning on her walks—”

“And she is accompanied on each and every one, Frances. A great deal has happened, and I wish to protect my daughters. You should wish for their safety as well.”

A fork flew and Papa held up a hand, making it fall to the floor. He rarely intervened in her mother’s fits unless her aim was true. This time, however, all of the plates and utensils vibrated upon the table. Mary stood and backed against the wall, as did Kitty and Lydia.

“I want to see our daughters married!” screeched Mama. Three plates flew and crashed against the wall behind her father.

Mrs. Hill bustled in with the tea set. “Forgive me, sir, but the water took a prodigious amount of time to boil this morning.” She set the tray next to Mama. “Here is your tea, Mrs. Bennet.”

“What do I want with tea when my husband will not help his daughters marry? Jane could have charmed Mr. Darcy, but no, you had to have the richer man for Lizzy.” A serving spoon flew at Papa, but again, he lifted a hand making it fall onto the table with a clatter.

Instead of raising his voice, Papa stood and stepped around the table. He placed a hand upon Mama’s arm. “Calm yourself, my dear. I am certain all of the girls will make fine matches. Just give them time. Now, drink your tea. It will make you feel better.”

Mama dropped into her chair, but Papa did not release her.

He allowed his palm to shift to her shoulder until her mother took her first drink of the tea.

As soon as the calming effects showed, he returned to his own chair and took a sip of coffee as though nothing out of the ordinary had just occurred.

The silver and china upon the table ceased their rattling, and her mother looked around herself.

“Why are you all standing about the room? Sit down and eat.”

Jane glanced at Elizabeth before returning to her chair beside Mama. While her mother was speaking to Mrs. Hill about their own afternoon tea, Jane slipped what appeared to be a note from beside Mama, folded the paper with care, and put it in her pocket.

As soon as Elizabeth had eaten, she followed Jane from the breakfast room and stopped her in the hall. “What was that you took from Mama?”

“Mama snatched Miss Bingley’s invitation from my fingers before I could read it. Since she was calm, I grabbed the note before she became agitated again. When we depart, we shall tell her we are going to Meryton to pick up books for Papa. She will not find anything unusual about that.”

“What of Miss Bingley? She will not be pleased to find that I accompanied you.”

Jane held up her hands, palms forward. “All we can do is tell her the truth. She is not as bad as you think, Lizzy. She has always been especially kind to me.”

“Believe what you will, dearest, but Mr. Darcy has told me some of what that lady has said of you. I do not want to hurt you, but none of it is complimentary. She considers our family below hers. ”

A gasp came from Jane. “That cannot be true. Mr. Bingley has a talent, and she must have one as well. Surely, they have heard of Papa.”

She took Jane’s hand. “Mr. Bingley is not so ignorant, but Miss Bingley . . . I daresay she probably is.”

“I just do not believe it.”

Poor Jane. She always believed the best of everyone. One day, her perfect little world would be shocked to the core. Hopefully, Elizabeth would not be far. Someone would be needed to pick up the pieces.