Mrs Collins' Lover Read online

  Swallowing over the lump in his throat, he returned her hand to his arm. “Shall we continue on?”

  Elizabeth nodded and they returned to the path

  ***********

  “Mrs. Collins.” Mrs. Abernathy nodded her head in response to Elizabeth’s curtsey. “You are far superior to what I had anticipated … given your husband.”

  The last was spoken in some distain and Darcy noted Elizabeth bit her lip to hide her amusement.

  “Though given Lady Catherine’s tendencies toward hiring muddle-headed toads, I was unsurprised by him.” The elderly widow’s eyes narrowed as she surveyed the young woman before her. “You, in comparison, are a quandary. However, did you come to be wed to Mr. Collins?”

  Darcy, too, had wondered how the marriage had come to be. He was certain Elizabeth would not speak ill of the Rector, but she had evaded him when he attempted to broach the topic in the past.

  “My father was in favour of the match as Mr. Collins is his heir.” Elizabeth’s head was high, but her fingers twisted the strings of her reticule. “Papa hopes that, once I bare an heir, I might be able to return home to raise the boy at Longbourn so he will share our love and knowledge of the land.”

  Mrs. Abernathy looked at Elizabeth, pity in her eyes. “And Mr. Collins is in agreement?”

  Elizabeth’s eyes fell to her lap as her voice lowered. “As I am not yet with child, it has not been discussed.”

  The older woman nodded absent-mindedly. The silence stretched until Darcy realized her eyes had fallen shut and her head now drooped to one side. Her daughter stood and motioned them into the hallway, pressing a finger to her lips that they might move quietly. After closing the doors behind her, Mrs. Martin gave Elizabeth a reassuring smile.

  “Mama likes you well, Mrs. Collins.” Her smile fell away. “Follow me, please.”

  As normal, they had been sitting in the drawing-room off the elderly widow’s bedroom. Genie now led them down the hallway, away from the main stairs. Elizabeth looked nervously over her shoulder at Darcy who followed a step behind. When they reached the end of the hallway, Genie opened a door and led them inside.

  The bedroom was much like any other in a small country manor. On the far side of the room, a bed was positioned near the window. A small wardrobe sat against the wall opposite the foot of the bed, a dressing table with little bottles upon it sat beside the wardrobe. Closer to the door was a chaise before the fireplace with a table to one side bearing a bottle of wine and two glasses. Elizabeth’s cheeks bloomed red.

  Genie closed the door behind them and turned to face Elizabeth. “Given the unusual circumstances, I hope you will not be offended by my frankness. May I call you Elizabeth? I see it in your eyes how much you dislike being addressed so formally.”

  A nervous giggle escaped Elizabeth and she nodded her ascent.

  “Good. Then you will call me Genie. I have always despised Eugenia.”

  “If we are to be so informal, then you must call me Lizzy. It is what my sisters call me.” Elizabeth had visually relaxed.

  “Very well, Lizzy it is.” Genie took Elizabeth’s hands and led her to the chaise. They sat together leaving Darcy to stand awkwardly to the side. “Darcy, would you be so dear as to bring me the tray of bottles on the dressing table?”

  Grateful for some employment, Darcy did as she asked. When he turned, he saw Genie was holding Elizabeth’s chin, staring into her eyes.

  “You have not enjoyed your marriage thus far?”

  Elizabeth attempted to look away, but Genie would not release her. She remained silent.

  Genie shook her head. “It amazes me that men are not better educated in this area.” She met Darcy’s gaze and gave him a sympathetic look, then returned her attention to Elizabeth. “I believe it best that the two of you speak alone, but if you require my presence, I will be in my mother’s sitting room.”

  She smiled and embraced Elizabeth then turned to Darcy and looked over the selection he carried. Pointing to one with a drawing of lavender on the label, she met his gaze and nodded, then left the room. Darcy returned the tray to the table, pocketing the lavender bottle before returning to Elizabeth’s side.

  She was leaning heavily upon the only arm of the chaise. Darcy slid into the seat beside her but did not speak. Slowly he realized she was crying; silently, and without moving.

  “Elizabeth?” He took her hand in his and she clasped his fingers.

  “Is it that obvious?” she asked, her voice but a whisper. “Does everyone know I disdain my husband?”

  Darcy did not think, he simply reacted, drawing her to his chest and allowing her to release all the emotions which had been locked away all those months since they had last met in Hertfordshire. When her tears lessened, he handed her a handkerchief.

  Elizabeth laughed bitterly as she wiped her eyes and blew her nose. “You did not know in Hertfordshire that I was a watering pot, did you?”

  “Will you speak to me? Openly?”

  She hesitated, but slowly nodded. “If you will hold me. I do not believe I can speak plainly while you are watching me.”

  Darcy eagerly agreed but stood and removed his jacket and waistcoat to increase their comfort. Elizabeth watched him curiously, so he lifted her from the seat to stand before him. She placed her hands upon his chest and, in a tentative caress, moved them across and up to his shoulders, then down to his waist. Darcy held his breath, not wanting to break the spell she was creating, but desiring her more with every caress. When she finally reached his hips, she stopped, blushed, and looked away.

  “Forgive me for being so bold.”

  “No.”

  Her shocked expression nearly undid his reserved countenance. “What?”

  “No, I will not forgive you for something so natural. Elizabeth, had I not been such an arrogant fool last fall, …”

  “I would have refused you and we would still be in this situation,” she shook her head, “only then you might not have approached me.”

  She bit her lip and Darcy was undone. He pulled her to him and kissed her, gently but growing more demanding. Elizabeth responded tentatively at first, but then met him in his passion. Before he could lose all sense, he broke the kiss and crushed her to his chest, willing his heart to stop pounding.

  “Have I done something wrong?”

  Elizabeth’s tiny voice reached his ears and he immediately recognized her distress. Darcy sunk onto the chaise where Elizabeth had been sitting and drew her onto his lap.

  “No,” Darcy whispered as he laid his forehead against her shoulder. His hands wandered aimlessly over her arms, stomach, back.

  “Mmm.”

  He opened his eyes and looked at the beautiful creature in his arms. Her eyes were closed, head back exposing her long slender neck. Willing himself to maintain control, he leaned forward and placed feathery kisses over the base of her throat, moving slowly along collarbone, outward until he met the neckline of her dress. He felt her hands run up the length of his back until her fingers were entwined in his hair, drawing him closer.

  “Elizabeth,” he whispered as he continued his ministrations. “We must talk.”

  “Why?”

  Her voice was somewhere between sleep and waking causing him to sit back and look at her once more. She was his. Everything about her posture, her countenance, said she had completely surrendered to him. He watched her until her eyes blinked open and she cocked her head in that impertinent, challenging manner he remembered from Hertfordshire. It was the first he had seen that look since his arrival at Rosings.

  “My love.” His voice caught in his throat and he cleared it before continuing. “Elizabeth, …”

  She laid a finger upon his lips. “William, if I did not understand what I was doing, I would not have come.”

  He nodded, kissed her finger, and took her hand in his. “I recognize that, my love, but I fear I must ask you some difficult questions.”

  Elizabeth’s eyes filled with tears and she shook he
r head. “I will not speak of him within this room.” She reached behind her and released the fastenings of her dress. “You will learn what you need to know.”

  Darcy saw her resolve and nodded. He stood, lifting her easily, and carried her to the bed. Setting her upon her feet, he removed her dress. He did not know what he expected to see, bruises perhaps, but her skin was unmarred. He lifted her chemise over her head and pressed her back onto the bed. With great patience, he explored her body; suckling her breasts until she moaned before moving further down. When he reached her mons Venus, he stopped and looked up at her. She was staring at him strangely, as though she had no idea what he would do next. Indeed, she probably did not.

  He spread her legs and kissed around the edges of her lips, trying not to laugh at her shocked intake of air. Carefully, he dipped his tongue between the folds, searching for her most sensitive spot. He knew the minute she fully trusted him, when her legs went limp and soft whimpers reached his ears. It was then he spread her lips, so he could see her fully.

  Tears filled his eyes and he released her when she flinched. He returned his attention to her precious pearl, alternating between licking and suckling her until she was writhing beneath him. God only knew how much he wanted her, but he could not.

  When her fingers tugged insistently upon his hair, he finally stood and lowered himself beside her on the bed. Her breathing calmed, and she shivered. He drew the counterpane over them and held her to him.

  “Why did you not enter me?” Elizabeth whispered.

  Darcy waited, unsure how to respond. Finally, he ran a hand over her hair. Her hairpins were scattered about, and he hoped they would be able to find them all. He kissed her forehead and held her closer still. “I know you said you do not wish to discuss him here, but I must ask. When he comes to you, does he … prepare you at all?”

  Elizabeth nuzzled into his neck as though she might disappear there. “I am not certain what you mean, but based upon what has happened here to-day, I must say no.”

  He clutched her closer. “He simply pushes into you? He does not feel the resistance?”

  “I was told it is painful for women.”

  “The first time or two, perhaps. Elizabeth, you have been married for months.” Darcy felt his anger growing and pressed his nose to her hair, inhaling her scent: lavender and fresh air. His desire to throttle Mr. Collins abated enough that he could speak calmly once more. “How frequently does he come to you?”

  “Every Saturday night.”

  Darcy swallowed realizing she barely had time to heal before she was assaulted again. “Does he … do anything to ease …”

  “Sometimes he will spit …”

  Darcy could hear no more. He pushed her from him and kissed her with the force of his love. He needed her to know what it felt to be loved by a true man. A man who cared first for her pleasure. His hand slid down her smooth, flat stomach until he had once more found her pleasure node. Gently, he ran his finger over it, teasing her. Just when she would begin to respond, he would move to the outer edge, barely touching her. When she pulled at his arms, demanding more, he would relent, but only for a moment. Eventually, he carefully slipped a finger down to her injured lips and slid it inside her.

  Elizabeth’s eyes opened wide. For a second, he thought he had caused pain, but then they closed again, and a moan escaped her. She began writhing beneath his hand and he gently inserted another finger, being careful to avoid the tenderest areas. Her release came over her, causing her to buck against him. He kissed her then, allowing his tongue to dip between her lips; pleased when hers tangled with his.

  When she was spent, he withdrew his hand and rolled to his back, taking her with him. Her hair splayed across his chest was everything he had imagined it would be and he twisted it around his fingers. Her breathing became more regular and he realized she had drifted off to sleep. He continued to trace his fingers over her curves and through her hair until he heard a soft rap at the door. Their time had come to an end.

  Reluctantly, he woke her. “Elizabeth, my love, we have stayed as long as we dare.”

  “Mmm,” she murmured as she snuggled into his side and laid kisses across his chest.

  “Come now, we must dress … and talk.”

  She lifted her head to meet his gaze. “I suppose we must, but can we not talk as we return to Hunsford?”

  Darcy ran a hand down the side of her face. “That will be acceptable, but I must show you something before you dress.”

  Elizabeth sat up, curiosity written on her expression.

  He stood and returned to the chaise where his discarded jacket lay and removed the bottle he had stowed there before returning to her side. This time, he knelt beside the bed and separated her legs so that he was between them. Reverently, he leaned forward and kissed the scars he saw there before opening the bottle. He laid his finger over the opening and lowered it until he felt the oily liquid cover the tip. Righting the bottle, he applied the oil to the tears before getting more and applying it to the older scars. Leaning forward, he kissed her again and closed the bottle.

  “You may wish to ask Genie, but I believe you should apply this at least once a day.” He choked on his words. “Definitely apply some before he comes to you again. It will make it easier for you.”

  Elizabeth’s hand cupped his cheek and he turned to press a kiss to her palm.

  Darcy clenched his eyes closed. “I cannot describe the pain I feel returning you to him.”

  She sat up and cradled his head in her lap, rocking him as a mother would a child.

  Another rap at the door, this one a bit louder, told him they must leave. He sat back but could not look at her. “Do you require my assistance, or should I have Genie come to you?”

  She did not respond, and he reluctantly lifted his gaze. She was staring at him, tears glistening in her eyes once more. “Am I so hideous as that?”

  Darcy did not think his heart could break further, but what remained seemed to splinter inside of him. He stood and pulled her from the bed, pressing her to his chest as he allowed his pain to flow from his eyes. “Never! You are the most handsome woman I have ever known.” He drew back so she could see his countenance. “Do you not understand, Elizabeth? Had I only spoken up …”

  She shook her head. “Must I say it again?” She laid a hand upon his cheek once more and smiled. “I did not know you then. The idea of being your wife was as repugnant to me as marrying Mr. Collins.”

  Darcy flinched.

  “You must release the hold the past has upon you, William. It is unchangeable, and regrets will eat you alive.”

  He kissed her hand once more and nodded. Wiping a hand across his face, he took a deep breath and forced a smile upon his lips. “Do you require my assistance?”

  Elizabeth looked at the bed and shook her head. “Perhaps you could find my hairpins while I dress?”

  “At your service, m’lady.” He bowed and began the search he had dreaded earlier.

  In less time than he had anticipated, Elizabeth was dressed and had begun arranging her hair. He had been able to find most of the pins, and she reassured him the others would not be missed. After donning his waistcoat and jacket, he escorted her out of the room. They found Genie waiting for them near her mother’s rooms.

  “Ah,” she smiled as she approached Elizabeth and cupped her chin in her hands. “You appear much happier than when you arrived. Have you any questions for me?”

  Darcy held up the bottle and Genie nodded. “Apply this twice a day until you have healed, and before you have relations.”

  Elizabeth nodded, and Darcy dropped it into her reticule.

  “Now, you must come say goodbye to Mama,” Genie linked her arm with Elizabeth’s and led her toward the sitting room. “Darcy, I suggest you smile, or Mama will know you have been distressed.”

  Darcy’s jaw fell open, but he quickly closed it. Thinking of Elizabeth as she had given herself to him, he smiled and followed the ladies into the room. They
took their seats as they had been before, and Genie laughed loud enough to wake her mother without startling her.

  “Oh dear,” Elizabeth said when Genie glanced her direction. “I had not realized it was so late. I have so enjoyed my visit, Mrs. Abernathy.”

  “As have I, Mrs. Collins,” the older woman managed as she stifled a yawn. “I would hope you will come see me again.”

  “I would enjoy it immensely.”

  Darcy patted Elizabeth’s hand. “Perhaps Friday morning?”

  “Oh, yes,” the widow nodded. “I so seldom see anyone now. I would welcome you then.”

  Elizabeth blushed as she agreed. They said their goodbyes and Darcy escorted her back toward where they had originally met that morning.

  “Do forgive my eagerness, Elizabeth. I could not allow you to go to him again without being with you.” Darcy clutched her hand in his, pressing it firmly against his arm. “I pray you are healed enough …”

  Elizabeth stopped walking. “William. Look at me!”

  He reluctantly turned in her direction but stared at their hands.

  “Look at me,” she repeated.

  He lifted his eyes to her and found her laughing at him. His brow furrowed.

  “Oh dear, has the old Mr. Darcy returned? And just when the new one had renewed my joy.” She stepped forward on tiptoe and pressed an innocent kiss to his lips.

  Darcy’s amazement dissipated, and he laughed. He lifted her hand and kissed her knuckles through her glove. “Come, you must return home before Mr. Collins.”

  A wistful expression covered her features. “Oh, that I could.”

  Darcy became wary. “Why? Is he already there?” He pulled the timepiece from his pocket, but Elizabeth’s hand covered it.

  “No. You call Hunsford my home, sir, but it is not and never will be. My home is Longbourn.” She gave him a sad smile and they continued on their way.

  *CHAPTER TWELVE*

  Thursday morning found Elizabeth pacing the meadow in anticipation of seeing Darcy again. When he appeared, she rushed into his arms, neither noticing the sun breaking over the trees.