Dinner at Netherfield was a strained affair. For a man accustomed to spending the whole of dinner in silence, Mr Darcy was putting himself forward quite strenuously, in an effort to attract Miss Elizabeth's smiles. That lady, it seemed, was determined to have her fun, and teased him mercilessly with a combination of sharp wit and wilful obtuseness. However, he took the teasing charmingly and they would have made a delightful pantomime of it, were it not for the desperate interventions of Miss Bingley. She would allow no topic to pass without a superior comment or subtle put-down.

Although shallow, Caroline was not foolish. Mr Darcy was wearing his heart on his sleeve, and it was clear that Miss Eliza had got further in two hours than Caroline had done in two years. But Caroline, determined as she was to succeed, would happily employ any feminine art necessary to out-do Miss Bennet. She wasn't new to the game: she'd caught him alone at balls, even climbed into his bed. No, Caroline Bingley did not give up easily.

It was, therefore, a very wary Mr Darcy who peeked around the servant's entrance to his bedchamber. From this angle he could see the impudent miss curled up in his bed – the very plane of her neck familiar – and she could see the main door, but she could not see him. In such a situation, Mr Darcy was inclined to enjoy his sport.

"A bold move, madam." The hand he'd clamped over her mouth muffled her shriek, and also prevented reply. Mr Darcy pressed his advantage. "I see you don't subscribe to the 'anticipation was made to be savoured' school of thought."

She glared daggers at him, "You brute! You think to scare me out of here? You shall not; you cannot." She smiled a rather superior smile, although her eagerness shone through, "My courage rises with every attempt to intimidate me."

Mr Darcy snickered, more determined than mirthful. "I see you are resolved to stay the night. You must know it will cost you."

She slipped a hand under his nightshirt to caress his hip. Adopting her best sultry tone she peeked from beneath her eyelashes, "I'll pay the price you name." Then smirking, "To call it a cost implies a great deal less pleasure than I intend to receive from this situation."

He sighed, but though he made to move away, his hand wandering along her collarbone revealed his true desires. "And in the morning? There will be shouting, anger, your family-"

She pouted. "I'll make it worth it, let me show you..."

Between her teasing tone and soft caress, Mr Darcy didn't need much more encouragement.