Elizabeth Bennet's Deception: A Pride and Prejudice Vagary (17 page)

“This conversation is not over, William.”

The sound of his Christian name upon her lips drove Darcy to distraction. He lifted the back of Elizabeth’s gloved hand to his lips.

“I look forward to
all
our conversations,” he said seductively.

Elizabeth’s frown lines deepened.

“We are in church, Sir.”

“Yet, the sermon has not yet begun.” Darcy countered, “Moreover, God meant for men to think upon the women they affect. I am following His strictures. Genesis nine and twenty says, ‘And Jacob served seven years for Rachel, and they seemed unto him but a few days, for the love he had to her.’”

Even with the speedy calling of the banns, it was a month before Darcy claimed Elizabeth to wife. They stood with Jane and Bingley mid week after the engagement ball. While Bingley whisked his new wife off to London to celebrate their marriage, Darcy and Georgiana stayed at Netherfield, although Darcy thought for a time it would be necessary to remove to the small inn in Meryton.

Miss Bingley and Mrs. Hurst arrived, without notice, the day before Bingley’s nuptials, and Miss Bennet pleaded with Bingley to accept his family for the ceremonies. Unsurprisingly, Miss Bingley’s effusions to the colonel had Fitzwilliam recalling duties awaiting him in London. Darcy’s cousin made his exit following the wedding breakfast.

Thankfully, Bingley’s disgust for his sisters’ machinations had Darcy’s friend informing Miss Bingley and Mrs. Hurst that they were welcome to stay at Netherfield only until Friday. Bingley had not yet forgiven their interference in his life. 

“Jane is the mistress of Netherfield Park, and until you prove to me your regrets for treating my wife with disdain, you are not welcome under my roof,” Bingley pronounced when his sisters claimed dismay at their brother’s eviction.

Mr. and Mrs. Bingley returned in time for Darcy and Elizabeth’s joining. As he and Fitzwilliam promised each other years prior, Darcy asked the colonel to stand with him on Darcy’s wedding day. Although he expected Elizabeth to choose Mrs. Bingley, Darcy’s betrothed surprised them all by requesting her sister Kitty to stand as witness.

“Mary stood with Lydia and I with Jane. Kitty deserves to know the hope of marital felicity,” Elizabeth declared when others questioned her choice. Elizabeth’s gesture pleased the girl, who had become one of Georgiana’s favorites, and Miss Katherine Bennet rose to the occasion. It was a refreshing revelation for Darcy.

Later in life, Darcy would declare the births of each of his five children his happiest days, but on the morning when Vicar Williamson place Elizabeth’s hand in his, Darcy knew completion: Elizabeth Bennet was his life’s blood–the very air upon which he existed. Beautiful in the light gray satin and lace dress Mrs. Bennet designed for her second daughter, Elizabeth’s beauty stole Darcy’s breath when she appeared in the church’s alcove upon her father’s arm. For months, Darcy wanted Elizabeth with a passion he did not think possible–day and night, desire nagged at him. It was as if Darcy saw Elizabeth for the first time; yet, his heart knew her the moment their eyes met.

On a day a week prior to their nuptials, Elizabeth’s spirits rose to playfulness, and she asked Darcy to account for his having ever fallen in love with her.

“How could you begin?” said she. “I can comprehend your going on charmingly, once you made a beginning; but what could set you off in the first place?”

“I cannot fix on the hour, or the spot, or the look, or the words, which laid the foundation. It is too long ago. I was in the middle before I knew that I began.”

“My beauty you early withstood, as for my manners–my behavior to you was at least always bordering on the uncivil, and I never spoke to you without rather wishing to give you pain than not. Now, be sincere; did you admire me for my impertinence?”

“For the liveliness of your mind I did.”

“You may as well call it impertinence at once; it was very little less. The fact is, that you were sick of civility, of deference, of officious attention. Women who were always speaking, and looking, and thinking of your approbation alone disgusted you. I roused and interested you because I was so unlike them. Had you not been really amiable, you would have hated me for it; but in spite of the pains you took to disguise yourself, your feelings were always noble and just, and in your heart you thoroughly despised the persons who so assiduously courted you. There–I saved you the trouble of accounting for it; and really all things considered, I begin to think it perfectly reasonable. To be sure, you knew no actual good of me; but nobody thinks of that when he falls in love.”

Darcy gathered her to him.

“There was nothing reasonable about my loving you,” he protested good-naturedly. “One thing women do not understand about men is we do not think of love. When we look upon a handsome woman, our minds do not say ‘What would it be like to marry her?’.” We enjoy the lady’s company, but we often do not think of marriage, not in the manner women do.”

“Then how does a man reconcile himself to marriage?” Elizabeth questioned.

“Males are still very much an animal in their preferences, but when a male comes across that one female who will be his other half, he knows only one thing: to reach out and claim her as his own. There is no prelude. No questioning of his emotions. No dreaming of romance and a life of contentment. Only the reality that if he does not claim that one particular woman, he will never be whole.”

And so Darcy considered the public voicing of their vows only a preliminary, for Elizabeth belonged to him as permanently as the sun belonged to the sky.

After an elaborate wedding breakfast, Darcy and Elizabeth traveled to London for a few days at Darcy House before they would journey on to Derbyshire. Between them, they decided they wished to be at Pemberley for Christmastide and as it was already late November, Elizabeth insisted upon their returning to his manor. Darcy made arrangements with the colonel to see Georgiana to Lord Matlock’s London home. His sister would return to Derbyshire with the Matlocks early in December.

“There is much to plan if we are to host my family and yours for Christmastide,” Elizabeth insisted as she curled into Darcy’s embrace.

Darcy ordered Mr. Thacker not to place the knocker on the door for he wanted no visitors to disturb those first days of marital bliss. He and Elizabeth dined in Darcy’s quarters and shared many intimate kisses, but Darcy meant to end his wife’s nervous chatter.

“The details will show themselves,” Darcy whispered as he kissed Elizabeth tenderly. “For now, I am content to know but one thing.”

He could feel the tension between them build. Her kiss was a taste of heaven, and Darcy’s desire climbed higher.

He rose to lift Elizabeth to him.

“It is time you become my wife in more than name only,” Darcy said as he walked slowly toward his bed.

Elizabeth buried her face into his shoulder.

“I must warn you, William, I hold only a little knowledge of this night.”

Darcy could feel the heat of embarrassment warm her skin.

“A little?” He chuckled as he nibbled upon Elizabeth’s ear.

“Mrs. Bingley,” she rasped as Darcy lowered Elizabeth to the bed.

“It will be enough,” Darcy assured. Following her down, their lips found each other’s. The string of kisses had their breaths ragged when they parted. “I love you, Elizabeth Darcy.” He brushed his lips across her silken cheek.

“And I love you, William.”

What flowed between them was passion and need, but also trust and vulnerability–a bonding of two souls. A bond only those who truly love would understand.

Finis

Jane Austen-Inspired Novels:

Darcy’s Passions: Pride and Prejudice Retold Through His Eyes

Darcy’s Temptation: A Pride and Prejudice Sequel

Captain Wentworth’s Persuasion: Jane Austen’s Classic Retold Through His Eyes

Vampire Darcy’s Desire: A Pride and Prejudice Paranormal Adventure

The Phantom of Pemberley: A Pride and Prejudice Mystery

Christmas at Pemberley: A Pride and Prejudice Holiday Sequel

The Disappearance of Georgiana Darcy: A Pride and Prejudice Mystery

The Mysterious Death of Mr. Darcy: A Pride and Prejudice Mystery

“The Pemberley Ball
”
(a short story i
n
The Road to Pemberle
y
anthology)

Honor and Hope: A Contemporary Pride and Prejudice

Regency and Contemporary Romances:

The Scandal of Lady Eleanor – Book 1 of the Realm Series (aka A Touch of Scandal)

A Touch of Velvet – Book 2 of the Realm Series

A Touch of Cashémere – Book 3 of the Realm Series

A Touch of Grace – Book 4 of the Realm Series

A Touch of Mercy – Book 5 of the Realm Series

A Touch of Love – Book 6 of the Realm Series

A Touch of Honor – Book 7 of the Realm Series

His: Two Regency Novella
s
(includes “His American Heartsong,” a Realm series novella, and “His Irish Eve,” a sequel t
o
The Phantom of Pemberle
y
)

The First Wives’ Club – Book 1 of the First Wives’ Trilogy

Second Chances: The Courtship Wars

Coming Soon…

The Prosecution of Mr. Darcy’s Cousin: A Pride and Prejudice Mystery

Angel Comes to the Devil’s Keep

A Touch of Emeralds: The Conclusion of the Realm Series

The Earl Finds His Comfort

Mr. Darcy’s Fault: A Pride and Prejudice Vagary

Writing passionately comes easily to Regina Jeffers. A master teacher, for thirty-nine years, she passionately taught thousands of students English in the public schools of West Virginia, Ohio, and North Carolina. Yet, “teacher” does not define her as a person. Ask any of her students or her family, and they will tell you Regina is passionate about so many things: her son, her grandchildren, truth, children in need, our country’s veterans, responsibility, the value of a good education, words, music, dance, the theatre, pro football, classic movies, the BBC, track and field, books, books, and more books. Holding multiple degrees, Jeffers often serves as a Language Arts or Media Literacy consultant to school districts and has served on several state and national educational commissions.

Regina's writing career began when a former student challenged her to do what she so “righteously” told her class should be accomplished in writing. On a whim, she self-published her first boo
k
Darcy’s Passion
s
. “I never thought anything would happen with it. Then one day, a publishing company contacted me. They watched the sales of the book on Amazon, and they offered to print it.”

Since that time, Jeffers continues to write. “Writing is just my latest release of the creative side of my brain. I taught theatre, even participated in professional and community-based productions when I was younger. I trained dance teams, flag lines, majorettes, and field commanders. My dancers were both state and national champions. I simply require time each day to let the possibilities flow. When I write, I write as I used to choreograph routines for my dance teams; I write the scenes in my head as if they are a movie. Usually, it plays there for several days being tweaked an
d
rewritte
n
, but, eventually, I put it to paper. From that point, things do not change much because I completed several mental rewrites.”

Every Woman Dreams 
https://reginajeffers.wordpress.com

Website
www.rjeffers.com

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http://austenauthors.net

English Historical Fiction Authors 
http://englishhistoryauthors.blogspot.com

Join Regina on Twitter, Facebook, Pinterest, Google+, and LinkedIn.

Chapter One

London 1819

The odor of the Thames as it wafted over the area beyond Greenland Docks caused Hunt’s nose to snarl, but Sir Alexander declared that someone paid large sums of money for the privilege of a blind eye to unloaded contraband, and it was Hunt’s duty to learn more of the people involved. The wig he wore itched, and he fought the urge to remove the offending item, and it did not slip his notice how his coachman, Etch, swallowed his amusement.

“Jist relax, Sir. It shan’t be long,” Etch cautioned.

Hunt grunted his response, attempting to disguise his own mirth. He slouched lazily against the back of the chair, just as the baronet taught him. It was not much, this bit of public duty he performed, but Hunt took a certain pride in doing more than being the Duke of Devilfoard’s heir–more than being the Devil’s cub. His ears perked with interest at the conversation, taking place nearby.

“I tells you,” said the dark-haired man Hunt followed into the tavern. “The viscounty means to learn more of the earl. Then we be makin’ a call upon His Lordship.”

“And this Town lord knows of the earl?” the shorter of the two asked.

“That’s wat the viscounty says. Says he’s got an arr’ngement with the Highest. He also say we be keepin’ the high lord company fer awhile ’til we’s know fer certain he be easy pickin’s. The viscounty be wantin’ information on who the high lord shows his attentions.”

The men rose to depart, and Hunt made to leave, but Etch placed a hand upon his sleeve.

“Wait.” The coachman nodded to the door. “Is that not Lord Newsome? Doing business in this part of London?”

Hunt’s expression screwed up in disbelief.

“The viscounty?” he wondered aloud. “This just became interesting.”

* * *

“You are pure evil,” she declared as he chased her through the intricate maze.

Dressed all in black, he stalked her, and Angelica’s body heated from his brief touch, as he brushed her wrist with his fingertips. Catching her skirt tail, she skittered away from his slow pursuit.

“A copper for your thoughts,” she taunted with a nervous giggle.

“I was considering the pure pleasure of possessing my own personal angel.” His deep resonant voice spoke of desire, but also of contentment.

“Am I that angel?” she rasped when he caught her shoulders and spun her to him.

“Forever.”

“Miss Angelica.” Her maid shook Angel’s shoulder. “Wake up, Miss.”

Angelica Lovelace rolled to her back and stretched. She hated to leave the dream behind. It was one of her favorites, and she particularly enjoyed how it always ended with her in the dark stranger’s very masculine embrace.

“What is amiss?” she murmured. Angelica kept her eyes closed watching the scene’s details playing out behind her lids. She could not remember a time when she did not dream of her dark lover. Even as a very young girl, she enjoyed his company. When she was a child, he was her best friend, but when she turned to womanhood, he became her secret lover, and although she never met him, he remained the man by which she judged all others. To her, he was her “dearest Devil,” always dressed in black; his shaggy coal-colored hair streaked with hints of mahogany. Over the years, Angelica blamed her oft-spoken-of irreverent attitude on the mystery man with a wicked wit and a splash of deviltry
.
If my critics knew of my sultry musings, they would agree I am quite beyond the pale
.
The thought brought a smile to her lips.

“Your father, Miss,” the maid encouraged. “Mr. Lovelace requests you attend him in the small drawing room. Baron Arden has called.”

Angelica forced her eyes open.

“Baron Arden? What might the baron require?” She pushed herself to a seated position.

“Mrs. Watson be thinking the baron will make himself known as a suitor.” The maid braced Angelica on the steps beside the bed.

“Do you suppose the baron consulted Mrs. Watson?” Angelica asked, with a bit of a tease.

The maid rarely understood Angel’s light sarcasm.

“Oh, no, Miss. Mrs. Watson be creatin’ a guess.”

A chuckle slipped from Angelica’s lips.

“And I thought an English upper servant worth her salt prided herself on knowing everything within the household.”

“Mrs. Watson knows enough.” The maid unlaced the ties on Angelica’s night rail. “I thought the silver muslin, Miss.”

Angelica fought the urge to roll her eyes.

“Another virginal gown. Why is it English ladies announce their marital state with their gown’s color? What could be the harm in wearing a bright red or a royal blue?”

“You may choose whatever color most pleases you once you marry,” the maid observed in severe tones. “Lady Peterson wears only shades of purple. Can you imagine, Miss? Purple dresses every day?”

Angelica frowned.

“I am not certain I could tolerate the monotony. Of course, it would simplify the need for accessories. A few pairs of slippers and gloves would match one’s attire.”

“You’re so practical, Miss,” the young girl observed.

Twenty minutes later and without breaking her fast, Angelica swept into the room. She and her father had imposed upon the earl and her mother’s sister Sarah by imploring upon her maternal relatives to open the earl’s Town house for the Season and for Lady Mannington to assume the position of Angelica’s sponsor in Society. Her mother’s older sister married Lord Mannington some five and twenty years prior, long before Angelica’s birth and before Lady Victoria Copley married Horace Lovelace and traveled to America.

“You sent for me, Sir?” She paused as her mother had taught her
.
“Allow the man to take your full measure.
”
The words rang clear in Angel’s mind: It was comforting to have a bit of her mother with her.

“There you are, my dear.” Her father struggled to his feet.

Each day, Angelica became more aware of the man’s mortality. That particular fact was one of the reasons she agreed to this venture. Her mother passed two years prior, and her father insisted on carrying out his wife’s dying wishes. For years, Victoria Lovelace spoke of bringing her only daughter to England for a proper debut, but her mother succumbed to consumption before her wish knew fruition. Therefore, without the love of his life, Angel’s father made the journey.

“Please come in.” He gestured her forward. “You are acquainted with Baron Arden, I believe.”

“Yes, Sir.” She curtsied to the man standing aristocratically beside the hearth. “The baron and I stood up together at the Breesons’ ball on Tuesday last.”

The baron executed a respectful bow.

“It is singular you have such perfect recall, Miss Lovelace.”

“Angelica has a quick mind,” her father remarked with pride, but then blustered. “Of course, my Victoria would say a learned lady was not a virtue by English standards.” He winced when shock crossed the baron’s features. “I apologize, Arden. I offer no censure. My late wife always accused me of acting a cake when speaking of our daughter. So many years away from my homeland must make me appear quite the heathen. I am accustomed to a freer speaking society.”

“It is quite acceptable, Lovelace.” The baron grasped the hand Angelica extended in his direction and offered the obligatory air kiss. “Despite the consensus to the contrary, many Englishmen prefer their wives to possess a sensible nature.”

Angelica gestured to a nearby chair.

“But the author o
f
Pride and Prejudic
e
proved in her first novel tha
t
sens
e
an
d
sensibilit
y
are different from intelligence, my lord,” she countered.

“I am surprised you have read the lady’s novels,” Arden remarked.

Angelica seated herself on the edge of the cushion and straightened her dress’s seam.

“Would you
r
surpris
e
be because the author is British rather than American or because the author is a lady, and women should not trespass upon the male dominated world of authorship?” She did not wait for his response before adding, “Perhaps your astonishment rests in the fac
t
Sense and Sensibilit
y
is a novel rather than a serious tome?”

She smiled prettily at the man. Her mother may have determined Angelica required an English aristocrat for a husband, however, Angel had decided only a partner who could accept her flaws, as well as her substantial dowry, would do.

Arden frowned. He clearly not expected a challenge to his opinions.

“I suppose all three, Miss Lovelace.”

“But you hold no objection, Baron, to a woman who develops her mind through extensive reading?” Angelica chuckled internally at the familiar line from the British author’s books. She was certain Arden possessed no idea of the remark’s source.

“I would imagine my wife would oversee our children’s educations. Therefore, I would expect a certain rationality.”

“Which brings us to the reason for Baron Arden’s visit, my dear,” her father interrupted. “Arden has requested my permission to call upon you with the intention of a courtship. That is, if you are agreeable.”

“A time to learn if we would suit?”

Angelica took a closer look at the baron. His thick dark brown hair had a tendency to curl about his collar. Barely six feet, the man’s stature struggled to appear more than a walking block of wood, but he possessed a pleasant countenance.

“Customarily, such details are not discussed before the lady,” the baron bristled.

Angelica forced her mouth into a straight line. Since making her debut a month prior, she had delighted in ruffling the feathers of a number of gentlemen who saw her dowry as an inducement to marriage to a hoydenish American. When her father suggested this journey, Angel reminded him, as she had often reminded her dear mother, Angel’s ways would not sit well among the English elite: she spent too much time studying her father’s book on antiquities, tending Horace Lovelace’s growing string of thoroughbreds, and overseeing the health and happiness of her father’s workers. Those were the things, which brought her contentment in her Virginia home, but they were not qualities most men of the English peerage sought in a wife.

“We Americans often take a divergent course. I pray that fact does not present a difficulty to our future felicity, Baron,” she said with a practiced smile.

“Certainly not.” Despite his words of assurance, Arden frowned. “I welcome your frankness, Miss Lovelace.”

Angelica heard the man’s insincerity, but she promised her Aunt Sarah not to make predisposed judgments.

“Then how should we proceed, Sir?”

“I thought I might escort you on daily outings,” he began. “If it is agreeable, we could drive today during the fashionable hour. I also hoped you would consider accompanying me to the theatre tomorrow. My sister and her husband will join us.”

Angelica stood to end the conversation.

“I am amenable, Lord Arden.”

He followed her to his feet.

“Then I will call for you this afternoon.”

“I shall anticipate it.” She directed him from the room, but before Angelica opened the door to the main hallway, she paused. With her hand resting on the handle, she smiled innocently up at the man. “Might I ask one question before you leave us, Baron?”

He looked surprised and then assumed a cynical expression.

“By all means.”

Angelica hesitated as if undecided, but, in reality, she meant to set guidelines before their courtship began.

“During this time where we determine whether we might suit, am I to limit my interactions with other gentlemen callers? I would prefer to understand our agreement.”

The baron’s eyes narrowed.

“I would expect your undivided attention, Miss Lovelace.”

She smiled sweetly.

“Then I would expect the same from you, Baron.”

“Of what do you accuse me, Miss Lovelace?” he huffed.

Angelica withheld a glare of disgust.

“I meant no offense, Sir.” She schooled her features to portray politeness. With that, she opened the door and turned the baron over to the waiting footman.

“Was that necessary?” Her father grumbled as he poured himself a glass of claret.

She resumed her seat.

“I studied the list of potential candidates Uncle Lancelot provided us. Arden has a long-standing title, but he is deeply in debt. My dowry must appear quite tempting. The baron would accept a woman lacking in effeminate ways to salvage his estate. I mean to keep the baron off balance until I am certain of his motivations. Who knows? Perhaps we shall suit, but I shan’t be his subject. When I marry, I wish a relationship as loving as yours and mother’s.”

“Lady Victoria Copley was one of a kind,” her father said wistfully. “Your mother possessed a magnanimous heart. My Victoria deserved better than a minor son, but I am more than grateful she chose me from among her many suitors. You will find it difficult to discover a man of even half Lady Victoria’s merit.”