What Would Mr. Darcy Do?

definition of it!—seems to be something I manage to practice whether I intend to or not.”

“You may practice on me to your heart’s content, Miss Bennet, so long as you wait until my self-control is at least slightly more in evidence than it is at this moment.”

She smiled. “I may play with fire, sir, but I try to steer clear of bonfires.” Some of his earlier words came back to her. “But I would hope you do not stand in any particular need of charitable reassurance from me.”

He was silent for a moment, but she could feel his tension. “Elizabeth, please recall that only a few months ago you considered me the last man of your acquaintance you could be prevailed upon to marry. While evidence indicates your opinion of me has improved—I would hope that by now I would rate above, say, Mr. Collins as a marital partner—reassurance is always welcome, and often needed.”

“Must you remember so well everything I said that awful day?” Elizabeth asked with chagrin.

He allowed his hands to caress her for a moment. “Please do not distress yourself over the past, my dearest; some of your words have proved quite memorable, but I seem to recall saying more than my share of such words!”

“Then I must strive for even more memorable ones to suit the present situation.”

He gave the slight smile which always tugged at her heart. “I am all ears, my sweetest Elizabeth.”

She pulled away from him just far enough that she could look into his eyes. “Is this sufficiently memorable?” she said, her heart beating rapidly. “Mr. Darcy, I would be delighted and most honored to become your wife.”

His first reaction was disbelief, for since his overconfidence in Kent, he had never allowed himself to fully believe he would ever earn her consent. This was followed immediately by a feeling of heartfelt delight such as he had never before felt. She will be mine! he thought. She will make me complete again. He swallowed hard as an image from his dreams came to him—Elizabeth, her eyes full of passion, in his bed and in his arms—merging with the sensation of the very real woman he held in his arms. He said unsteadily, “I believe the traditional response is to tell you that you have made me the happiest of men, but even those words cannot do justice to how very, very happy you have made me.”

“Well, let us not defy tradition, although, were we to be strictly traditional, I should have waited to be asked before supplying my answer!”

Taking her face between his hands, he kissed her deeply and possessively, the kind of kiss that claims a bond rather than overwhelms with passion. “Elizabeth, my own, so long as you never leave me, I will say anything you wish, but I believe you are well aware of my hopes and wishes.”

“There is nothing you need to say, Fitzwilliam,” she said softly, allowing herself the pleasure of touching his cheek lightly.

His eyes ignited with a familiar look, and she could see the battle he was fighting with himself. “There is one more thing…” he began, then faltered as Elizabeth, smiling provocatively, slid her arms around his neck, “…which we can discuss later,” he concluded in a somewhat strangled voice as he responded in the only possible way.

Had Elizabeth thought his passion would be in some way more controlled with his better understanding of her regard for him, she would have had to revise that opinion quite rapidly as his fiery kisses burned her lips with unrestrained ardor. She found that what had begun with an affectionate and intimate gesture on her part rapidly turned into a conflagration in which her passion rose to meet his. She felt lost in a flood of sensation as he explored her mouth, and, as he moved his attention to her face and her neck, she found herself arching her head back to allow further liberties.

Darcy, having unwisely allowed himself to imagine his nights with Elizabeth, found those thoughts had wrought havoc with his self-restraint. He felt all resolve melt as Elizabeth gave into the temptation to allow her fingers to roam through his hair and over the exposed skin of his neck. His lips fully occupied with investigating the hollows over her collarbone, he found his hands seeking to explore the gentle curves of her spine.

Elizabeth’s involuntary gasp of pleasure brought her attention back to herself, and, with a Herculean effort of will, she sought to extricate herself from his embrace, and laid her fingers lightly over his lips. Meeting his eyes, dark with passion, almost destroyed her resolve, but she somehow managed to maintain her distance.

Darcy forced his breathing to slow. “I hope you are not planning to insist on a long engagement,” he said.

“That would appear to be unwise,” Elizabeth allowed, sounding a good deal calmer than she felt.

“Then perhaps we should take appropriate steps,” he said softly. He removed a small box from his pocket, and, taking her hand, opened it to show her a ring of sapphire and diamond. “I was carrying this when I called on you at the inn in Lambton,” he said as he slid it slowly onto her finger. “My father gave this to my mother when he asked her to be his wife.”

The sight of the ring on her hand brought her a new sense of the truth of their engagement, and she found herself thinking of all the changes it would bring to her life. Darcy’s thoughts ran along a similar path; the physical reality of her acceptance of his ring made it true that she would be his, that he had at long last won her love. He lifted her hand to his lips, then held it gently to his cheek in a gesture of trust which touched Elizabeth deeply.

“Your mother must have been a very fortunate woman,” said Elizabeth shakily.

“They were both fortunate,” he responded softly. “My parents had an exemplary marriage, full of affection and respect. I have always told myself I would settle for nothing less.”

Elizabeth’s breath caught in her throat. “I hope I will live up to your faith in me.”

With a slight smile, he said, “I have no doubts of your success. We do, however, have a few matters to resolve regarding our wedding, and I believe I have a somewhat overdue meeting with your father as well. Perhaps there is a place where we could sit while we talk?”

Elizabeth gave him an arch look. “Always assuming that we could behave ourselves long enough to resolve anything?” With a smile, she led him to a shaded bench across the garden.

“I do not recall making any promises about behaving myself,” Darcy said as they sat. Suiting his actions to his words, he took her hands in his and brushed his lips lightly across hers. “I believe I can manage to hold a conversation between kisses, and if it should prove distracting to you, so much the better for making plans to my liking.”

“And may I ask what those plans would be?” asked Elizabeth.

A playful look entered his eyes. “I thought the idea of getting married this afternoon had a good deal of merit,” he said with an innocent air.

Elizabeth laughed. “I fear that is hardly possible, sir. There is no time to obtain a license, and my mother would never forgive me if I married in an everyday dress. I am afraid you will need to wait at least a few days!” she teased in return.

“I cannot help with the matter of your dress, except to say I would find you beautiful in sackcloth. As to the other matter…” He withdrew a paper from his pocket and held it up teasingly between two fingers.

Elizabeth looked at him suspiciously as she took the document. Unfolding it, she was taken aback to find it to be a special license, issued in their names the previous day at Doctors’ Commons. “You cannot be seriously suggesting…” she said with some disbelief.

“I believe I could force myself to wait as long as a week, given proper incentives.”

“But that is when Jane and Bingley are to be wed!”

“We could have a double ceremony.”

“How could we be ready in a week?”

“You are being far too argumentative,” he replied with a mocking threat in his voice, and proceeded to run his finger seductively beneath her neck. “I see I shall have to distract you after all.” He proceeded to trail a line of light kisses from her ear to the base of her neck. Elizabeth bit her lip in an attempt to deny him the satisfaction of seeing her response. “Now, about that double ceremony…”

“You cannot be serious!”

He traced her cheek with his finger. “More so than you think, my loveliest Elizabeth, but not without reason. To explain, however, I will need to ask you to keep a secret from the future Mrs. Bingley.”

“As long as I do not consider it to be doing her a disservice, you may rely on me.”

“I rely on you constantly, my sweetest. But to the subject at hand, last week I received one of Bingley’s illegible letters telling me it was his intention to surprise your sister with a honeymoon on the continent—more specifically, spending the winter in Italy.”

Elizabeth’s eyes lit up. “Oh, Jane will love that! She has always wanted to travel.”

“Knowing how close you and she are, I knew you would want her to attend our wedding. Since we will