Chapter Two

Much to Elizabeth's annoyance the next day brought on a steady and heavy rainfall that appeared to be well established in the vicinity of Longbourn. With such conditions outside she thought it unlikely that Darcy would venture from the comfort of Netherfield to spend a morning locked up with her family in their drawing room. No sooner had she decided this than her theory was proven wrong. For through the persistent drizzle a tall figure appeared galloping up the drive on a rather impressively large black stallion, effecting a skidding halt just outside the window. Annoyingly her heart fluttered just a little, but she forgave herself this bit of girlish silliness, for what woman wouldn't respond in such a manner to this rather attractive picture of such an ardent and determined admirer?

Although she was really glad to see him, his presence created something of a problem; neither of them was easy when confined with her family. A number of possibilities for escape crossed her mind, but the appalling conditions precluded all of them. Walking out was impossible and travelling in a carriage would be unpleasant at best. On entering the room Darcy suggested it, but she would in no way put his grooms in the way of catching their death of cold for the sole purpose of escaping her mother. There was nothing for it, they would have to stay indoors and make the best of the situation.

Here began a very uncomfortable morning for Elizabeth. The assembled group consisted of Mr. and Mrs. Bennet, their four remaining daughters, and Mr. Darcy. It was not surprising that with the gentleman's sudden and damp appearance the talk naturally turned to a discussion of the weather and the relative unpleasantness of it all.

For Elizabeth this discussion made her more than a little uncomfortable. The events of the previous day suddenly became uppermost in her mind, and she felt herself blushing to the roots of her hair. Naturally the assembled company was completely oblivious to her discomfort with the open discussion of such an innocuous subject. The exception of course was Mr. Darcy. He remained silent through much of the initial discussion and though Elizabeth kept her eyes cast down much of the time, she unconsciously knew that his steady and impenetrable gaze never left her. The one time she ventured a glance in his direction she could only detect the subtlest of smiles, but she recognized the look in his eyes immediately. For it was only yesterday morning that she had bechanced to see it, not surprisingly following a discussion on that very same subject.

Such was the consequence of her actions the previous day, she thought to herself, her consolation must now be the resultant discomfort of her fiancé’s improper thoughts. Gazing out the rain spattered window, she did her best to ignore the conversation and instead reflected on the possibility that God was punishing her. Her shocking behaviour in actively encouraging Mr. Darcy’s affections certainly deserved some retribution, and the current circumstance would seem to be an appropriate exaction of vengeance.

While her sister Mary may have given this idea more weight, Elizabeth's rationality dismissed it almost immediately. This was England after all, so it would be a little presumptuous to interpret the current downpour as anything out of the ordinary. Never having been particularly adept at religious contemplation, she found that she could not feel any remorse at all and so gave up the attempt entirely. She allowed herself a slight smile of satisfaction that Mary's sermons had at least made contact with her agitated mind. Her sister would be gratified to know that such lessons were indeed remembered in times of distress.

Darcy had been watching Elizabeth in silent admiration for some time. Her blush was becoming in itself, but his superior knowledge of the reason behind it left him feeling slightly more amorous than was healthy in such a setting. Not trusting himself to approach her, he allowed himself the pleasure of watching her from afar. When she stood at the window, he could not miss the sigh that escaped her lips and was more than a little curious as to what caused the small display of amusement that turned up the corners of her mouth. It never ceased to amaze him how much pleasure could be derived from just observing her innocent and artless movements. And such quietly passive moments were perfect for his admiration; the delicate curls that graced the nape of her neck, the pearly whiteness of her teeth as they bit lightly on her lip, the subtle play of her fingers along the garnet cross that hung about her graceful neck. All drew their fair share of attention.

But such overt admiration comes at a cost; all of a sudden his mouth became dry and his breathing - which until that moment had been deep and even, punctuated only by the occasional sigh - did not feel altogether regular. Why? He had no idea, but if he was to hazard a guess it may have had something to do with the memory of the place that the cross on her necklace usually occupied. That tantalizing spot just above the soft skin of her ... Good Lord what was he thinking!!!

In an effort to contain himself, he turned to his nearest neighbour, who just happened to be Mrs. Bennet, and determinedly engaged the lady in conversation. In his attempt to relieve his disturbed mind, he latched on to the subject recently under discussion and proceeded in a narrative on the relative wetness of the ride from Netherfield, giving her an intimate account of which parts of the three-mile journey happened to be the dampest. The lady sat in stunned silence at being addressed in such a way by the formidable Mr. Darcy, which quite served his purposes, and so he persevered unhindered. In his urgency to distract his mind his conversation ranged from the inane to the downright boring. He found himself to be describing puddles with great eloquence and detail, but did not really care, for at the moment his main concern was to get his mind back in some sort of order.

When he at last felt master enough of himself to hazard a glance at Elizabeth, he found the source of his discomfort looking down again and blushing furiously. Though his mind was now relieved, some primitive instinct, which he chose not to examine too closely, spurred him on and he continued in his narrative to Mrs. Bennet, expanding his discussion to the general weather conditions in Derbyshire. When he at last encountered Elizabeth's eye, he perceived that she was at least as disturbed as he had been shortly before and was at last satisfied to end his discussion. The look of passion in her eye was exactly as he had remembered, and he was more than a little pleased in having managed to inspire it.

Later that night when Darcy reflected on his actions and the motivations for this little interlude, he was both amused and mortified. He was quite certain of his motive; he wanted Elizabeth to remember that kiss from yesterday in the hope that it might arouse the same discomfort he had just suffered from doing no more than looking at her. He was less pleased with his manner of achieving this however, for there was something a little odd about using her mother as a way of arousing Elizabeth's passion.

Mr. Bennet, being a studier of character, watched the whole exchange with interest and amusement. That man was most surprised to see Mr. Darcy so enthusiastic in discussion of a topic that was quite obviously of little interest to his wife. On further consideration though, he realised there was method in his madness, for it was one topic that would keep Mrs. Bennet relatively silent and would probably remove any desire by that lady to engage him further in conversation. On glancing at his daughter however, he found that the topic under discussion seemed to be of particular interest to her. Though she took no part in the discussion, she attended it eagerly and there was a definite blush covering the delicate skin of her face. Initially he had thought she suffered from nervous embarrassment, lest her mother should expose herself to Mr. Darcy, but on further observation found that this was not the case. The one time he managed to catch her glimpsing in the direction of her fiancé he perceived that the look that passed between them could in now way be misconstrued as embarrassment.

Mr. Bennet was vastly amused at the scene before him. That there was some conspiracy between the lovers was obvious and that it revolved around the topic under discussion was equally so. His wife remained oblivious to all that passed, as did Kitty, Mary and Jane. Settling himself in for some further observation he actually put his paper away completely and began to study Mr. Darcy in earnest. He found that he had completely underestimated the young man who he had once thought reserved and above his company. It was not the fact that he was actively monopolizing the conversation that surprised him or that he was intentionally speaking to his wife. What impressed him beyond anything he had seen before, was that in the course of carrying out probably the most boring conversation he had heard in some time, Mr. Darcy had achieved the remarkable double accomplishment of silencing his wife, whilst at the same time disconcerting the usually imperturbable Lizzy.

At that moment the tea things were brought, which provided a natural interruption to all that had gone before. Mr. Bennet, more than satisfied with his entertainment for the morning and with a newfound admiration for his future son in law, left the party to attend some business with a tenant. Mrs. Bennet busied herself about the tea in an attempt to escape Mr. Darcy. That man now felt himself safe enough to approach the object of his affections.

"You are unusually quiet this morning, Elizabeth, you have not opened your mouth once this last half hour," he said with an innocence that belied his true meaning.

"I find the subject is not to my liking, sir," she replied with a smile.

"I cannot deny I am disappointed. I had thought that it was actually a favoured topic of yours."

She looked at him archly before replying. “I hardly think it would be appropriate for me to start discussing the weather in front of my mother, Mr. Darcy."

"I cannot imagine why."

Elizabeth was quite certain that Darcy was deliberately teasing her. The smile that played on his lips and his determination to engage her on the subject of her discomfort showed he had some inclination for provoking her. Never one to back away from a challenge she responded in kind.

"I had thought, Mr. Darcy, that I was sparing your feelings by remaining silent, for I believed it to be you who could not stand such idle conversation. I see that I was mistaken."

"Quite so, I rather enjoyed my little chat with your mother. There is, after all, something to be said for making small talk when it can make you blush so becomingly, Elizabeth."

"You did not feel yourself to be uncomfortable then, I thought I perceived that you did?” she asked with a subtle smile.

Darcy, acknowledging the accuracy of her observation, smiled slowly in response.

"I must admit I did for one moment feel myself to be in danger, but was gratified to see that I was not alone in my suffering. I did in fact notice that my lovely wife-to-be was no less disturbed."

Elizabeth looked away with a blush, for the conversation was becoming far too intimate for the setting. But with his delightful teasing manner in evidence, she found it rather impossible to stop herself from engaging him further on the subject.

"Am I to expect you to provoke me like this every time the weather is less than satisfactory?"

"If this is to be your reaction then I can assure you that I will try my best," he replied with a rather devious smile.

The only response Mr. Darcy received was a raised eyebrow, which was enough encouragement for him to continue.

"You have in fact set a dangerous precedent, Elizabeth, for every time I see you even look at the sky or contemplate rain falling outside the window, I shall know that you are in fact thinking of something else completely. I cannot say I dislike the idea. Indeed, at this very moment, my dear, there are few things more provoking to me than seeing rain dripping down a window pane."

The last was said in such a manner as to leave Elizabeth in absolutely no doubt as to Darcy's intentions in provoking her. She was not averse to discussing the subject further but it was impossible with her mother and sisters present.

"Well, Mr. Darcy, since you are so enamoured of the weather perhaps you would care to examine my father's library for some suitable literature on the subject."

Darcy looked both surprised and gratified. "That is a most satisfactory idea, does your father keep anything of the kind?"

"He has several farming journals that contain the sort of information that interests you, and I believe he also has a rather neglected copy of a book on cloud formations. Would you like me to show you, I believe he his out in the farm at present," she asked with a decided air of innocence.

"I think that would suit my purposes admirably," he replied eagerly, making absolutely no attempt to disguise his real intentions.

The couple left the room with Mrs. Bennet's eager blessing. Mary and Kitty agreed that the morning was rather dull. Mr. Darcy bored everyone stupid with talk of the weather, and Lizzy was out of sorts. They had relieved everyone by retiring to the library and the company returned to a steady diet of idle chatter. 

If Mr Darcy had managed to harness his passions in the Bennet’s drawing room, he certainly dropped the reins and allowed the horse to bolt once alone in the library with Elizabeth. The lady herself had barely shut the door before she found herself enclosed in his amorous embrace, his arms drawing her fully against the solid warmth of his body. Although she had gone in with her eyes open, she could not help but be surprised by the strength and urgency of his passion. She had barely opened her mouth to speak when she found her exclamation effectively silenced by the force of his lips upon hers. Any further protest she may have offered was quickly forgotten under the power of his ardent attentions. His hands roamed freely down her back as his lips tasted the delights of her own, and Elizabeth found herself unable to do anything but hold on and respond as best she could.

If she was being truthful, she had thought of little else but this since they had parted the previous day, and it was quite obvious that Mr Darcy was of the same mind. But while their first kiss had been restrained, the subsequent somewhat less so, the fiery intensity of this embrace was something else entirely. This was pure, unadulterated passion, there was no other description for it. Never had she imagined the usually very correct Mr Darcy acting in such a reckless way, but his sudden unrestrained desire was as appealing as it was frightening. The image that kept flooding her mind was of the way he had first appeared that morning, riding hard in the rain, the gravel of the road skidding in all directions as he reined the powerful black stallion in. That was the Darcy she wanted, and that was the one who was now determinedly drawing her hips hard against him and spreading passionate kisses along her neck.

Under the power of such ardent admiration, there was nothing to be done except hope for the best. She presumed he knew what he was doing, that he would be able to apply restraint when the time came. That was a gentleman’s responsibility, was it not?

Elizabeth might not have felt so secure if she had been able to perceive the thoughts of her ardent admirer. Indeed she might have cared more about the direction of his hands if she had been able to see inside his head. For with her hips pressed so delightfully against him and her lips so eagerly repaying every attention that he bestowed, Mr Darcy was actually considering what little it would take to lift her skirts and take her right there. Indeed, at that moment the barriers of their clothing he considered to be very little impediment, for he could most definitely feel the warmth of her skin burning against the evidence of his passion.

But however clouded his sensibilities were by desire, Darcy was still master enough of himself to know that her father’s library was not the place to be deflowering his fiancé. By the same token, however, he was not of a mind to completely cease his attentions, especially when he was receiving such a delightful response. Besides, there were many other parts of Elizabeth’s body that could be enjoyed without completely compromising her, and with that in mind he drew her down into an overstuffed armchair, and arranged her carefully in his lap. With all the delights of her body now within such easy reach, he sought that part of her form that he had many times admired and long ached to touch.

If Darcy’s initial assessment of Elizabeth’s figure had been that it was light and pleasing, it had been many months since he had revised his first impression. And however much he despised being wrong, he could not deny that such a gross error in judgement was, at that exact moment, very pleasing. With the evidence now weighing delightfully in his hands, it was a foolish consideration indeed to have ever thought that her breasts could be considered ‘light’. She was robust, she was strong and, good Lord, she was very well built.

His fingers itched to feel the bare skin without the thin barrier of muslin that stood between them. His mouth went dry as he considered the pleasure of taking one of those hardened buds in his mouth, allowing his tongue to deliver that pleasure which his fingers now bestowed. And before he fully grasped how easily his passions were ruling his mind, he found his fingers slipping beneath the bodice of her gown, his fingers at last touching the bare tip of one supple peak. Her gasp in response to his intimate caress was fuel to the fire of his passion, one that needed very little encouragement. And at that exact moment, just as he was on the verge of heaving down her bodice to taste the delights that she offered, the most heinous thing occurred. 

Mr. Bennet, upon entering his library, was most surprised to see his second daughter in the midst of a particularly amorous embrace with her fiancé. Seated firmly in his lap and seemingly in the midst of what could only be described as an exceedingly passionate kiss, the lovers remained insensible of the intrusion. He immediately diverted his eyes and cleared his throat once, twice and then thrice in escalating volumes without managing to disturb the pair. Looking up to confirm that they had yet to fathom his presence, he had to readjust his eyeglasses to confirm what at first glance he had thought could not possibly be true. But there was the evidence quite obviously before him. The gentleman's hand was most definitely upon his daughter's breast and at that very moment his fingers were in fact in the process of creeping below the muslin covering the same.

"MR DARCY!"

No matter how clouded their senses where by passion, neither could have failed to hear Mr. Bennet's shouted exclamation. A hasty separation was attempted but with very little success, for Elizabeth's hands were quite firmly caught underneath Mr. Darcy's tight fitting waistcoat and the gentleman's fingers could not be easily extracted without threat of exposure.

Mr. Bennet could have averted his eyes at this particularly awkward scene, but he would not forgo such a humorous display even for his favourite daughter's sake. If she would allow herself to get in such a predicament, she must bear with being laughed at. When the separation was finally made, however, he hid his mirth behind an implacable facade.

"Well, Elizabeth, what is your explanation for this behaviour?" he asked in his sternest voice.

His daughter, still relatively senseless after her recent amorous experiences said the first thing that came into her distracted mind, which on later contemplation she confirmed that it was undoubtedly the stupidest thing she had ever said in her life.

"Papa, Mr. Darcy was interested in one of your books."

Mr. Bennet frowned with determination and turned away to hide the smile that threatened to give away his amusement.

"Interested in one of my books, was he? Well, I am glad you clarified that for me, Elizabeth, else I might have continued to labour under the impression that he was more interested in something else. I had assumed that he lured you here for more nefarious purposes, but since you assure me that I am quite wrong, I am greatly relieved."

Elizabeth cleared her throat and looked uncomfortably at Darcy, for her father's comment had hit remarkably close to the mark. A heavy silence hung in the air. She could think of nothing sensible to say after the stupidity of her first attempt, and Darcy was still not master enough of himself to think clearly let alone speak.

"Did you have some trouble finding the bookcase then, Elizabeth?"

Darcy, seeing Elizabeth's distress, roused himself and intervened.

"Sir, the fault is mine. I did ask her in here, and, yes, my intentions in doing so were not purely...err...literary."

Mr. Bennet was vastly amused by this comment but resolved to reflect on it later. The current situation required a certain degree of gravity, and so he turned his attentions to the gentleman.

"Another time I might admire the honesty of your character, but I find myself too shocked by your actions to give you credit for such noble attributes."

Darcy assumed an air of contrition he did not feel. He would prefer to reproach himself for his behaviour when he was more at leisure to think clearly, but under the circumstances he had to allow Elizabeth's father an opportunity to berate him.

"I fully understand, sir, my actions were unpardonable, and I apologise for offending your daughter and yourself."

At this point Elizabeth opened her mouth to speak, and Mr. Bennet, suspecting that her words would be in defense of her lover, silenced her before any pleas could be offered.

"You may leave now, Elizabeth. I believe you have contributed all you can to this discussion and anything further shall be between Mr. Darcy and myself."

Elizabeth could do little but turn on her heel and leave at such a dismissal, casting one last look at Mr. Darcy in the process.

Mr. Bennet allowed a significant pause before speaking again. There were few memorable moments in his life, but this situation was looking very promising. To have the proud and imposing Mr. Darcy standing before him like a naughty schoolboy was a situation that engendered much satisfaction. With that in mind, he was determined to enjoy it as much as he could.

With his attention now directed solely on the errant gentleman, he detected with slight annoyance that he did not look particularly submissive.

"Well, Mr. Darcy, what excuses have you to offer?"

"I make no excuses, Mr. Bennet, I have apologised to you and your daughter, and I have nothing further to add."

By the shortness of his replies and the implacable tone of his voice, Mr. Bennet got the distinct impression that the gentleman was allowing this lecture as a matter of form. In fact he looked decidedly unrepentant and more annoyed at having to endure the conversation. This detracted somewhat from Mr. Bennet's pleasure, but he was still not quite ready to let him off completely.

"As I am sure you will one day appreciate, Mr. Darcy, no man ever likes to see his daughter in such a position, no matter how close she is to her wedding day. Such things are better left for the privacy of one's own bedroom."

"Yes, sir."

"Having a younger sister, you will no doubt understand my position more fully when she is of an age to have gentlemen pursuing her."

Mr. Bennet perceived that this comment seemed to have made more of an impression on the gentleman, for he detected a hint of anger overtake his seemingly calm countenance. He did not venture any comment however, and so Mr. Bennet, frustrated by his failed attempts to disconcert Darcy, offered the obligatory warnings.

"I realise that you only have two days until you are married, but I would encourage you to be more circumspect. My Lizzy has always been a fearless girl, I trust that you will not take advantage of that in her nature which may make her more adventurous than is good for her."

"I will endeavour to master my impulses," he replied evenly, with a slight roll of the eyes.

"Well, well, I suppose this is the penalty of her making you wait so long. At least I have the security of knowing that my daughter appears to love you. I could have been quite happy to have it not so graphically demonstrated though."

"Yes, sir."

There were a few moments of silence as Darcy considered whether this was to be the end of the lecture and Mr. Bennet considered how to punish the gentleman for such impertinence.

"Will that be all, sir?"

"Only one more thing, Mr. Darcy," he said, looking him determinedly in the eye. “Would you care to explain to me this sudden interest in the weather?"

Darcy reddened and looked almost angry. "Not really, sir," was his terse reply

Mr. Bennet smiled in seeing that he had finally managed to disconcert Darcy and sat back in his chair, well pleased with the interview

"Very well, off you go then," he chuckled.

Darcy bowed and hastily left the room, not pausing as he left the house. He was angry with himself more than anything, for his actions had been hasty, uncontrolled and completely impulsive. It was so unlike him and then to suffer the mortification of being called onto the carpet for his behaviour. Why on earth did he suddenly feel like Bingley? 

As the party, minus Mr. Darcy, reconvened around the dinner table some time later, Mrs. Bennet was effusive in decrying Mr. Darcy's behaviour that morning. Her comments were addressed primarily to her husband, who responded in kind whilst keeping an eye on his second daughter's reactions.

"What can he mean by coming all this way in the rain and then insist on discussing the weather all morning."

"He is a farmer, my dear, he has a right to talk of such things. His income is dependent on it as much as ours is."

"I am mightily glad that Lizzy saw fit to take him off to the library. I thought I should go spare with all that talk of sleet, snow and ice. What do I care of the rainfall in Derbyshire?"

Mr. Bennet looked at his daughter and raised an eyebrow

"Yes, we must thank Lizzy for dragging him off like that, very generous of her. Perhaps next time you venture there you should spend a little time studying barometrics, Lizzy, so that you are never short of conversation?"

Lizzy stared at her father in open-mouthed horror. Something in his tone gave her the impression that not only had he caught them in the library, but that he was privy to all that had passed between Darcy and herself that morning in the drawing room. Her mortification at being so exposed in front of him knew no bounds, and then to have him tease her in such a way simply exacerbated the feeling.

Mrs. Bennet was not finished with her expostulations on his behaviour and continued in the same manner.

"He might be rich and handsome, Lizzy, but I must say he is rather dull. Better you than me, my dear, for I cannot think of anything more dreary than being shut alone at Pemberley and discussing the weather all night long."

Elizabeth blushed furiously but made no comment. After the tumultuous events of the day the idea rather had its merits at the moment.