Hello there! Thank you for reading my variation on Pride and Prejudice! I hope you enjoy it! I will be publishing this on Amazon, so you can look me up there if you're impatient and would like to read Part 1 of An Ardent Affection in its FULL, sensual entirety! (I've had to make some edits to the more sensual chapters of the version I post here, to keep in accordance with ffnet's rating system.) There will be at least 3 parts, consisting of 3 chapters each. I will be uploading ALL the chapters here as well, so not to worry! Look me up on Amazon: Grace Reeve.

All my love,

G.R

Elizabeth Bennet had never ever thought she'd be where she was. Diana, her abigail, had just finished lacing up her corset and Elizabeth was now standing in front of the mirror to finish getting dressed for her wedding.

Her wedding. Who would have ever expected that Elizabeth Bennet was going to marry one Fitzwilliam Darcy? A man who, as her mother was proud of saying, made "ten thousand a year" and had a large house in Derbyshire. In other words, Elizabeth was making a very good marriage. So good a marriage that she was undeserving, no matter what she'd declared to Lady Catherine on that fateful night. It did not keep her mother from boasting of the match's charms to all of her friends in Meryton, however.

Moreover, Elizabeth was marrying Darcy for love. Elizabeth could only imagine the screaming from her mother had she known how in love with Darcy her daughter was. In love with the man, not his money.

Elizabeth liked to think she would have loved Fitzwilliam even if he was as poor as she. Had her scant fifty pounds a year dowry been an incentive and not a pittance to him, she would love him as well as she ever did.

If he'd been the hand in the stables, perhaps? She might have liked to sit and talk with her stable hand just as much as her rich society gentleman, were that stable hand the man to whom she would soon be web.

The money meant nothing to her compared to the man himself. Elizabeth supposed this was the truth of the matter. Though no matter what she said, she couldn't convince her mother of that fact. Which was fine. It was all fine and well. For, her mother wasn't marrying Fitzwilliam, Elizabeth was.

Elizabeth would be the one to spend her life with him. To walk down the aisle later that morning. To clasp his hand in hers. To murmur their respective vows. To leave the church as man and wife. To travel back here to Longbourn for the wedding night.

The wedding night! How her cheeks reddened at the thought of her much anticipated wedding night.

She had more than an inkling of a notion of what happened between a man and his bride. She was rather well read and certain volumes that should perhaps have been considered inappropriate for a young lady to read had revealed to her the technical intricacies of wedding nights.

He would remove his clothing. Perhaps hers, although that wasn't necessary. He would lift her shift and insert his… his manhood into the space between her legs.

It would likely hurt. It must. It defied all logic if it would not. There would be blood on her sheets after he claimed her virtue. The servants who tended her room the morning after would see. Would know.

She would be a woman. Darcy's, as it were. He would claim her in a way no other had ever, would ever.

The thought both scared and excited her.

She loved her Mr. Darcy with all her heart, but the thought of submitting to his desires, his pleasures...t was enough to find her overcome! Even with some knowledge of the endeavor, it was a frightful business.

And yet… There was something in the way he kissed her, in those rare, short moments the eyes of her chaperone were less than excited her greatly. His hands… How they would sometimes grasp at her gown in their embraces. It was almost as if he needed her. And being needed by such a man? It was a heady feeling indeed.

Why once, in the garden just outside when her mother was slow to join them, her Fitzwilliam had encircled her waist with one of his strong arms, pulling her impossibly close and kissing the very breath out of her! It was all so romantic, like some of the novels Elizabeth enjoyed reading.

She could feel such kisses deep inside her. In her belly, tickling her down between her thighs. In the place where he would, on their wedding night, thrust himself.

It made her breathless to think of such things. It was improper, she knew, for a woman to fixate on the flesh. But when she was to be marrying such a handsome specimen, how could she not?

Lizzy felt faint. Perhaps it was her corset at blame, perhaps not. She supposed, as her mother's daughter, she could lay the blame on her 'poor nerves', but she wasn't quite as eccentric as all that.

Being the wit her father purported her to be, Elizabeth had no other recourse than to believe that she was all excitement at the prospect of her wedding, of being married, and all either entailed.

Excited and frightened..

That night, she and Fitzwilliam would sleep in the guest room at Longbourn before carrying on to Pemberley in the morning. To her new home.

She'd soon be the mistress of Pemberley. Polluting the shades in any manner she saw fit. She wondered, facetiously, when they could expect a visit from Lady Catherine d. Such a horrible woman, a visit wasn't to be borne. Though she supposed she shouldn't have to bear it, given her soon-to-be aunt's words to warn her from marrying Mr. Darcy. The thought brought a smile to her face that she had to dismiss to Diana.

Her abigail simply shrugged her shoulders, disguising a smile of her own. Likely at Elizabeth's own exuberance. Since Diana was to accompany her to Pemberley, Lizzy supposed she'd hear of Lady Catherine soon enough.

Mrs. Elizabeth Darcy. Such was to be her name after the morning's services. How it would ruffle the feathers of more than a few society ladies, and not just the odious Lady Catherine. Lizzy did not care what they thought, but she did like how how the new name sounded. It suited her.

She couldn't imagine loving another the way she loved her Fitzwilliam, and taking his name was the first of many steps she would take to become his wife.

The others would be taken that night.

Diana tied the ribbons of her petticoat and walked across the room to fetch the gown.

Her gown was new. She'd embellished it herself. Sewn tiny beads onto the hem that she was going to take special precautions so as not to cake it with mud on the way to the chapel. There were a few buttons at the top, securing it on her person. And she'd used a lovely lace for the sleeves and neckline.

The skirt was long and flowing. She hoped her almost-husband would like it. Would like her in it.

She felt as though she was as silly as Kitty or Lydia, wondering if she would look well in a gown or not.

It was her wedding gown, though, so she supposed she was entitled to a bit of vanity.

The abigail slipped it over her head, straightening the skirt and making sure the hem itself was straight as it floated down over her body.

The buttons were soon slipped into their holes and Lizzy was able to admire herself in the mirror.

The dress lay very well on her body. Her bosom, especially, looked pert and plump, while the collar made her neck look long and swanlike. She was pleased with how the gown had turned out. The pearls at the hem caught the light just so and truly made the entire gown glimmer in the sunlight.

"You look lovely, Miss…" Diana said, folding her hands and gazing at her reflection. "An angel. A vision. Mr. Darcy will be blinded by your beauty."

Lizzy laughed. "I certainly hope not. I will need him to be able to walk me out of the church after the ceremony."

Diana smiled. "I suppose you will. I'm sure your betrothed has the good sense to avert his eyes from such blinding beauty."

Elizabeth laughed once more. "I'm so happy you'll come to Pemberley, Diana."

Diana's eyes sparkled. "I'm more than happy to be of service to you, Miss Bennet." She cupped her hand over her mouth, making as if she were whispering. "Soon-to-be-Mrs. Darcy."

Lizzy's face reddened, but she was soon giggling like a child as her abigail led her to her seat at the vanity to do up her hair.

A sharp knock on the door interrupted their gaiety.

Mrs. Bennet entered, with a crow of what was presumed to be pride at Elizabeth's appearance soon following. "Oh Lizzy! You look ravishing! Mr. Darcy will be beside himself!"

Lizzy smiled warmly at her mother, wondering if this last spoken sentence would be the only one she agreed with for the entirety of their conversation.

Her mother fussed around the room, straightening the bric a brac, fluffing the pillows, tugging at the curtains and running her finger along the shelf in the corner. "You'll need to dust that, Diana." Never mind that it had only just been dusted that morning and Diana was no longer Mrs. Bennet's to direct.

Mrs. Bennet finally took a seat on the edge of the bed, smoothing her skirts about her legs as she got comfortable.

Sensing the discussion that was surely on the horizon, Elizabeth began to steel herself for what was to come.

"Come now, dear. Come have a talk with your old mother…" Mrs. Bennet patted the bedspread in indication that Elizabeth should come and have a seat beside her. For a talk that would, no doubt, leave Elizabeth with more questions than answers, the foremost of which was what her mother could possibly be thinking.

"This is a matter that should be kept between a mother and a daughter. Off you go, Diana."

Lizzy's abigail curtseyed and left the room, her eyes appropriately downcast as she closed the door behind her.

Once the knob had clicked into place, Mrs. Bennet turned towards Elizabeth, her mouth pressed in a thin line. "Now, Lizzy-dear, I'm afraid I've left this to the last possible minute because well…" she trailed off, only to begin again in a flurry of emotion. "My poor nerves!ou have no idea how they plague me I've had all the planning to attend to with Jane's wedding and now yours. I might have forgotten a few minor details, but that's to be expected. I am but human, Lizzy. And no one know what I suffer, with my nerves!"

"You've done a wonderful job, mamma. Jane's wedding was a spectacular success. As I'm sure mine will be." Elizabeth reached for her mother's hands, clasping them tightly in her own. "Now, I'm sure whatever you've forgotten cannot possibly cause too much of a calamity."

"Well. Brace yourself, my dear. Because I am come to tell you what you should expect on your wedding night."

Alarmed, Elizabeth attempted to school her features, but she needn't have bothered. Her mother was continuing forth, regardless of any emotion of her poor daughter's.

"Now, it's a rather… silly business really. Wedding nights. You'll learn to at least become accustomed to your husband's attentions. They won't always be so very uncomfortable. He likely will remove his breeches. All the way down to nothing at all, I am afraid. He will place that part that makes him man into yours that makes you woman.

Lizzy opened her mouth, but her mother shushed her before any words came out. "Now, there's no clearer way to put it, I'm afraid. If you're lucky, you be with child soon enough and he'll leave you alone. More or less. It helps, I've found, to lie back and think about all the lovely dresses and gowns you'd like to have."

She sighed here, gazing off into some distant dress shop only accessible by entering her mind and side-stepping all her nerves, none of which Lizzy was wont to do were it even possible. Elizabeth's eyes were certainly opened. But not into the mystery of her own marriage, into the mystery of her parents'.

"Of course, with a husband such as you'll have, you won't have to dream about all the lovely gowns and dresses. You'll have them, won't you? Perhaps his nighttime passions won't be so very difficult to endure after all." Her mother reached over and squeezed her hand. "I am so very proud of you, Lizzy. Such a good marriage you've made."

She could only smile, reaching for her mother's hands and pressing kisses to each of them. "Thank you, mamma."

She could hardly tell her mother that Mr. Darcy's nighttime passions would likely be more than endured. Elizabeth could not imagine Fitzwilliam being content to take his passions while she dreamed of gowns and dresses.

She was not certain of this fact, of course. But she had reason, now, to believe that his passion ran a bit hotter. And though perhaps it was unbecoming in a lady, so too did hers rise when she merely thought about her wedding night.

"I really must go now and finish getting ready myself. It wouldn't do to see my daughter marry the richest man in Derbyshire if I'm not properly dressed for the occasion!"

Elizabeth rose, kissing her mother good-bye and walking her to her bed chamber door. Mrs. Bennet hesitated once at the door, running her hand over the door frame and then turning to run her hand over Elizabeth's cheek. "You make a beautiful bride. You'll make an even more beautiful wife."

"Thank you, mamma," Elizabeth repeated, feeling her stomach flip a little as her mother left the room.

She supposed it truly was a milestone. She would leave this room a maiden and enter it once more this evening with her husband.

And then tomorrow morning, she'd leave it innocent no longer.

Her heart began to pound as there was a soft knock at the door once more. Diana poked her head in. "Are you ready for me, miss?"

Elizabeth nodded. "I am, Diana."

She walked towards her vanity and sat down, allowing her eyes to close as Diana began to brush her hair.

"I'm going to put it up with some of these flowers I found blooming in the garden," Diana said softly, her fingers combing through a particularly stubborn knot.

Having curly hair had been the bane of Elizabeth's young life, but she'd found it a blessing once she was out and attending balls. It was very easy to make one's hair look becoming if it already had a curl in it.

And Elizabeth's hair had quite a lot of curl in it.

After much brushing and combing and picking through the knots, Diana was able to pile the lot on top of Elizabeth's head. Hair pins came next, tucking each tendril into place. It looked lovely, but it needed something else. Something Diana had already prepared.

Only a few more hair pins later, and all the lovely flowers were secured in place.

Elizabeth's breath caught in her throat when she gazed at her reflection. She looked like a wood nymph. Wild and untamed, nd yet refined.

She didn't claim to know the innermost workings of her Fitzwilliam's mind, but she knew enough about him to know that he would adore the way her abigail had styled her hair.

"Diana! It's beautiful!"

"You are a lovely bride, Miss," Diana replied, standing up just in time to go answer the knock at the door.

Elizabeth turned, grinning widely when Jane ducked her head inside.

"Jane!" Elizabeth held out her arms to her sister. "Or should I say, Mrs. Bingley?"

Jane's normally lovely face had the glow of someone with many wonderful secrets. Lizzy only hoped she had time to learn them all.

"Oh Lizzy! You look beautiful! Diana's really done quite well with the flowers…" Jane's hand lightly touched some of the blooms, careful to preserve them so they would not fall out before the ceremony. "You make a lovely picture. Your Mr. Darcy will be quite pleased."

"Do you think so?" Lizzy asked, turning to check her reflection once more. "I can only hope."

"Oh, Lizzy. He worships the ground you tread upon. If you could only see him the way I do. The way he trips over himself to make sure you are comfortable."

"I do believe if I saw that, I might not love him," Elizabeth teased. "A man of that height who trips over himself!"

"You would love him more, silly!" Jane insisted. "If you saw how much he loves you."

A warmth bloomed deep inside her. Too-tight stays and hairpins aside, she really was quite content.

That is, until Jane's warm smile became more mirthful.

"Dearest sister, I daresay I spied our mother leaving your chambers before I was able to make my way here myself."

"Indeed she did," Lizzy admitted.

"I do hope what she said was a help to you?" Jane asked, her countenance refreshingly hopeful.

Lizzy sighed. "I believe I'd have been better off without speaking with her on the subject," she admitted.

Jane's head tilted in sympathy, and Lizzy felt free to roll her eyes in exasperation. It had been rather difficult not to whilst her mother was still talking.

"Lizzy, it really is lovely, between a husband and wife. When you're with someone who's as patient and kind and caring as I'm sure your Mr. Darcy is."

"And your Mr. Bingley as well?" Lizzy asked knowingly. As knowingly as she could muster, given she only had the details that Jane wasn't too shy to share via letters.

But then again, Jane ha surprisingly not been shy in her sharing.

"My Mr. Bingley as well," Jane agreed. "Now is the time, dear sister. Ask me anything your heart desires."

Lizzy had lots of questions, but decided to ask the one most pressing to her mind. "Will it hurt?"

Jane's hand squeezed hers comfortingly. "Only but a little. I'm sure your husband will be gentle with you. It feels strange, though! Once he is... inside." Her sister's cheeks were crimson, but she continued talking all the same. "Charles asked me over and over again if he was crushing me!"

Lizzy had to smile at that. "Why would he be crushing you?"

"Because he is…" Jane mimed a little for her understanding. "He is on top of me."

"So it is not like the horses, then?" Lizzy glanced towards the windows in the direction of the stables and then back at her sister once more.

"Not unless you'd like for it to be!"

They both had a good laugh at that. Lizzy couldn't imagine asking Fitzwilliam for something such as that.

All in all, by the time the carriage came to take her to the church, Lizzy felt much more relaxed about her wedding night.