Marrying Miss Bennet- Books 1-4 Read online

  Marrying Miss Bennet

  A Pride and Prejudice Sensual Intimate Collection

  Jane Hunter

  Copyright © 2018 by Red Thorns Press

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Created with Vellum

  Contents

  1. Mr. Darcy’s Morning Glory

  2. Where the Lilacs Bloom

  3. Elizabeth’s Honor

  4. Elizabeth’s Answer

  Also from Red Thorns Press

  Mr. Darcy’s Morning Glory

  Fitzwilliam Darcy knew that he had been away from home for too long. He could feel it in the horse beneath him too – the moment the gelding had scented the familiar winds that blew across Pemberley’s green hills Darcy could feel a lightness in his gait.

  “Almost there,” he said into the horse’s ear, and the gelding whickered in response as Darcy tightened his grip on the reins and dug in his heels.

  The late summer air was warm, and he had ridden hard that morning, leaving the inn without taking breakfast to make better time. But it was not until he sighted the graceful stones of Pemberley that he was able to finally breathe a sigh of true relief. He could feel the great weight that had settled upon his shoulders in these last weeks beginning to lift.

  When he was away from Pemberley, and his mind was left idle, he was prone to impulsive things; actions and decisions he could not explain, nor would he ever entertain within his own walls.

  His friend, Charles Bingley, had almost begged him to take extended leave of Pemberley to help him acclimatize to his own house in the country. Darcy had agreed reluctantly, but knowing that he had no cause to decline. The summer months were notoriously quiet on his estate, and Charles Bingley knew that very well, indeed.

  Now that he was home, he knew that the weeks away had taken a toll on him... a fact that he was not quite willing to admit.

  Darcy was known for being a gentleman of stout principles, and one could even accuse him of being in possession of lofty expectations for himself as well as others of his acquaintance. He did not believe this to be a fault of character... but this time it had been different.

  This time, despite his best efforts, the people of no consequence that he had endeavored to distance himself from had become distressingly unavoidable.

  He shook his head as he rode down towards the stables, trying to rid himself of the dark thoughts that threatened to overtake his jovial mood.

  The sparkling reflection of the early morning sun upon the lake caught his eye, and an idea sprang forward in his mind. A whim, perhaps – there was nothing that would suit him better than a swim.

  Darcy pulled his horse towards the lake and could almost feel the cool water sliding over his heated skin. He couldn’t help but smile. This was the very best way for him to return home – refreshed and cleansed of everything that had happened, everything he’d done while he’d been away from Pemberley... all trace of it washed away.

  The haughty words he’d spoken in anger – though he’d had every right to be so... but perhaps it had only seemed so at the time.

  He pulled hard on the gelding’s reins, slowing him to a trot and then to a stop at the edge of the lake. Darcy slid from the horse’s back and let the beast have its head, freeing him to lower his head and wander away to crop the sweet green grass.

  With a happy sigh, Darcy pulled his coat from his shoulders and tossed it on the grass, followed quickly by his hat, boots, linen shirt and breeches.

  He was sure that he would receive a scolding from his valet about the grass stains and pond weeds on the pale woolen breeches, but the only thing he cared about was plunging into the cool waters of the lake and letting it wash away every care that he had brought with him from London... and from Hertfordshire.

  He stepped into the water without hesitation, taking a quick breath as the chill of it lapped over his skin. Darcy closed his eyes for just a moment, relishing the feel of the water as it rose over his hips and lapped against his bare stomach. Then he took a breath and fell forward into the water, allowing it to envelop him fully. The lake was not deep, but it was deep enough to allow him to swim a few lengths, stretching the muscles that had been filled with tension during his journey from London.

  It was good to be home.

  He floated on his back upon the surface of the lake, his body submerged just enough that he could be warmed by the sun’s rays, but not enough to disturb the surface of the water too much. Everything was peaceful and calm and he stared up at the clouds as they tracked through the endless blue sky. Every hard thought he had held in his mind was willed away, carried from him by the gentle eddies of clear water.

  But there was one thought that stayed with him. Something he couldn’t chase away with a swim. Elizabeth Bennet.

  His hands clenched into fists at his sides as he remembered how he had embarrassed and shamed himself at Hunsford with his clumsy proposal. She had been furious with him, and they had argued. He had argued with her more sharply than anyone in his entire life... but he did not hate her. On the contrary, there was something about her that intrigued him in a way that he could not deny.

  Elizabeth Bennet had stood her ground in the face of his anger, in the face of his insults... he had not meant them as such at the time, but upon reflection, he realized that he had been cruel and unthinking. To ask her to give up her family... the damage he had done that day was beyond repairing. It was better that he should forget her entirely. He had written the letter explaining himself to her – explaining everything; something else he had never done.

  She deserved no explanation... but perhaps that was not correct either. Perhaps she deserved every explanation; and perhaps he deserved to feel wretched for allowing himself to react in such a way. His treatment of Miss Elizabeth Bennet, and her sister Jane, surely did not warrant him any reward of happiness.

  He had stolen happiness from more that one person in his time in Hertfordshire. Charles Bingley, his truest friend, had also been harmed by his words. Darcy clenched his jaw as he thought of what he had said to turn Charles Bingley’s eyes from Jane Bennet... it was clear enough to everyone that the young woman had affection for him, to have worked so diligently to convince him otherwise? That was another action for which Darcy knew he would have to beg forgiveness.

  Charles would forgive him, of course, it had been done in his best interest after all, but it was clearer to Darcy now that the words he had said had been for his own benefit... and not Charles’. If he had understood what his own feelings were for Miss Elizabeth Bennet, perhaps he would have been more encouraging. Another ruined wall that would take time to rebuild.

  Darcy sighed and closed his eyes tightly, picturing Elizabeth Bennet’s face. Those eyes that had captivated him so entirely... her dark hair, so different from her sister’s. The way her cheeks had flushed with anger when they had argued... there was no use denying it. He loved her. He loved every single thing about her. From the way her fingers stumbled over the keys of the pianoforte to the way she pinned her hair and tied her bonnet... every feature was perfectly captured in his mind.

  Suddenly, a wave of water splashed over Darcy’s face, causing him to splutter and choke. He righted himself and wiped the water from his eyes to discover that he was not alone in the lake.

  There, at the edge was a figure clothed in a pale gown. The young woman had a pleasing figure, but he could not see her face, obscured as it was by her bonnet.

  Stunned beyond measure, Darcy kn
ew that he could not reveal himself to the intruder, she would be more embarrassed than he, and there could be a scandal if they were discovered alone. He did not recognize her, and wondered if she was a relation of his housekeeper... Mrs. Reynolds had not known that he was returning early from London, he had been too eager to leave to take the time to write to warn her of his arrival.

  The young woman bent to the surface of the water and dragged her fingers across the surface. Darcy ducked behind a cluster of bull rushes, ignoring the frogs that leapt out of his path. He peered through the green leaves, trying to determine who she could be. It was obvious that she had not spied his discarded clothing, nor seen his horse. The gelding must have wandered farther than Darcy had anticipated, and it would be a chore to collect him... if Darcy was able to escape the water without being seen.

  A feminine gasp floated across the water towards him and Darcy turned his attention back to the edge of the lake.

  The young woman had removed her bonnet, and Darcy felt a chill as he saw a familiar mass of dark curls, pinned in just such a manner that seemed to please him best.

  The young woman’s cheeks were pink with delight and her eyes sparkled in the morning light.

  Miss Elizabeth Bennet.

  But what was she doing at Pemberley? How did she come to be here? And alone?

  Hundreds of thoughts spilled through his mind. Words he would like to say, things he would like to take back and never speak of again, apologies, snatches of poetry... all ridiculous. All utterly ridiculous.

  Elizabeth laughed again as a frog jumped away into the lake, ripples marking its passage as it streaked towards the safety of the rushes. Darcy felt another ripple of an emotion close to fear flutter through him. What if she saw him in the reeds – if he were discovered...

  Darcy ducked down lower in the water. Elizabeth seemed completely unaware that she was not alone. Darcy watched as she looked around quickly, and then lifted her skirts to reveal her feet and ankles as she stepped out of her shoes and began to peel off her stockings. Darcy bit his lip to keep from groaning at the sight of her pale flesh.

  He had spent many nights doing his very best to chase the most unchaste of thoughts from his mind, but now that he could see her, and to truly see her as she has now... they all came rushing back. The cool water did nothing to keep his heart from beating faster and a curious heat to rise within him.

  It was one thing for his mind to taunt his sleepless hours with images of things that could never be... but to have it presented before him; it was almost too much to bear.

  Elizabeth dropped her stockings onto the grass beside her shoes and stepped into the shallows. She held her skirts high above her knees as she waded in, and Darcy could see the smile of contentment on her face as she relished the feeling of the cool water and the warmth of the sunshine on her shoulders. He could tell that she was caught in Pemberley’s spell, just as he was... if she liked the estate, perhaps she could be convinced to think better of him as well...

  “Elizabeth!”

  Darcy ducked down behind the reeds once again as Elizabeth looked over her shoulder to see who had called her name.

  “Elizabeth, you must come and see the house! Mrs. Reynolds has offered us a place in the gardens to enjoy our picnic.”

  “Coming, aunt!” Elizabeth called brightly. Though she appeared reluctant to leave the water, she turned and waded out, stepping carefully upon the grass and considering her stockings and shoes before plucking them from the ground and tucking them under her arm.

  Darcy could not help smiling as he watched her walk barefoot back towards the house. All at once, Elizabeth stopped and turned back towards the lake, and Darcy ducked into the reeds once more, grimacing as he caused ripples to track across the sparkling surface of the lake.

  “Hello?” she called. “Is anyone there?”

  Darcy held his breath, hoping that she would turn and leave without investigating further.

  “Hello?”

  He waited breathlessly for long moments, listening intently, until, overcome by curiosity, he peeked through the reeds to see her walking towards the house once more and he breathed a sigh of relief.

  When she was gone from sight, he rushed from the lake and dressed quickly, not bothering to tuck in his shirt or attend to his wet hair. He chased down his wayward gelding and draped his coat over the saddle. As he did so, he noticed something unexpected against the dark fabric.

  A bright yellow buttercup had been slipped into the button hole on his lapel. A strange feeling crept over Darcy’s shoulders, one that he had not felt before... and he knew then that Elizabeth Bennet had known he was there – not just that someone had been watching her, but that he had been watching her.

  This was not the token of a woman who felt angrily towards him. Perhaps her feelings had softened without the effect of his apologies, or perhaps in spite of the ones he had so unwillingly offered those agonizing months ago.

  He tucked the buttercup carefully into the pocket of his coat and tugged his horse towards the house. One of the footmen could take care of him, it was clear that there were guests to be taken care of, and a young woman whose acquaintance he wanted very much to renew.

  Darcy had made the most of his visit with his surprise guests. Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner were pleasant people, and his invitation for them to visit Pemberley again was a genuine one. Mr. Gardiner seemed an intelligent sort of gentleman with a passion for trout fishing, a hobby that Darcy shared an affinity for as well. His purpose in inviting them to return, however, was wholly selfish. Miss Elizabeth Bennet had seemed pleased to see him, and had spoken well of Pemberley... and now Darcy wanted nothing more than to see what she looked like sitting at his dinner table conversing with his sister.

  If the picture he had painted in his head of this meeting was anywhere close to what happened in actuality... he would consider himself the luckiest of men. Georgiana was to return from Ramsgate in the morning, and while he did not need it, he wanted his dear sister’s opinion of Miss Elizabeth Bennet. If Georgiana could look upon the young lady as favorably as he did, perhaps it would be worth making his proposal again... and perhaps she would accept him this time.

  If not, he would forget his suit... and would, no doubt, spend the rest of his life attempting to forget her.

  * * *

  That night when the household was asleep, Darcy sat at his desk with quill and ink attempting to write a letter to his dear friend Charles Bingley. He must attempt to take back everything he had said about Miss Jane Bennet... he could not go on knowing that he had denied his closest friend a chance at happiness, especially now that his own chance at that elusive emotion was so close.

  A glass of brandy sat untouched on the edge of the dark wooden desk and he took a thoughtful sip, thinking back to the shape of Elizabeth’s ankle as she had stepped into the water. Of the little gasp she had uttered when her foot touched the cool water of the lake.

  That familiar warmth stirred within him again and he closed his eyes, savoring the taste of the brandy and the image in his mind.

  It was only his memory, and in his memory, he was safe to reveal himself from the shelter of the reeds... but not until she had removed her gown and laid it upon the grass along the shore. She had tucked her chemise up around her hips, revealing long creamy thighs and graceful legs that moved tantalizingly in the water.

  “Miss Elizabeth,” he said, startling her.

  “Mr. Darcy, I did not... I did not expect to see you here—“ she stammered, moving her hands to cover her breasts from his hungry gaze. For he was hungry for her, he knew that now.

  “I did not expect to see you, but I know now that it was fate that led me here... Elizabeth.”

  She gasped softly at the use of her name, and the sound stirred something within him. She stood still as he moved through the water towards her, holding out his hands.

  “Do not worry, Elizabeth, it is not very deep, I will keep you safe.”

  The words came out of h
is mouth before he could stop himself, and his heart began to beat faster when, with only a very little hesitation, Elizabeth put her small hand in his and allowed him to lead her deeper into the water. The bottom of the lake was slippery and she lurched towards him. He caught her easily, holding her tightly against his bare chest. Elizabeth gasped at the sudden contact, but she did not pull away. Her fine eyes were wide and dark and Darcy could resist her no longer.

  Darcy bent his head and brought his mouth to hers. Caught off guard, Elizabeth sucked in at the last moment, taking his breath into her body. His mouth was warm and she opened under him. He kissed her gently, soft and hot.

  “I should apologize, but I find that I cannot,” he said softly.

  “Then do not,” she replied. He kissed her again, lingeringly, pulling her tighter against his chest.

  To his surprise, Elizabeth kissed him back, putting as much of her desire into the kiss as he was. He gasped against her mouth as she dragged her hands down his body and then farther still to find the hot hardness of his manhood. She circled his thick length with her hand and moaned against his kiss.

  Elizabeth began to move her hand, shyly at first, and then with more confidence as the intensity of his kiss increased.

  “Elizabeth,” he gasped, finally dragging his lips away from hers. “I have thought of you every moment since our last meeting, and there are no words...”

  “Then say no words,” she said, pressing her lips to his throat. Darcy groaned deeply and pushed into the pressure of her hand.

  “I would have you say one word, Elizabeth,” he said.

  “One word?” she asked between kisses, her lips finding his again and teasing them gently with gentle nips.

  Darcy plunged his hands into Elizabeth’s hair and pulled her mouth away from his. “When last I saw you, I was a fool. I said many things that I regret... say that you forgive me. That...”