Sleep evaded Elizabeth that night. The quaint guest room in Mrs. Collins' new home that was such a pleasure to Charlotte felt foreign to Elizabeth. Her stay in Kent, which she had been already counting on for its absurdities, had given her that and more. From her cousin's constant imprudent behavior to Mr. Darcy unexpectedly being at Rosings during her visit, her trip had been entertaining, for lack of a more suitable word. Yet the sight of the austere Mr. Darcy had truly shaken her. Of course, it was nonsensical. Why shouldn't he be visiting his aunt? It was really her who was out of place, and oh, how she felt the sting of that reality.

She rose from the bed and dressed. As she slipped out the house and the cool, twilight air grazed her face, she felt markedly better. A long walk was all that she needed. She felt the impropriety of a woman walking alone at night, but the surrounding area of Kent was mostly country and she felt confident she'd meet no one along her wooded path.

This assuredness paid her no favors as it allowed her to become swept into her thoughts and she was quite unaware of the tall and imposing figure coming down the lane. Luckily, it seemed the man was likewise lost in thought and took no notice of the light footed woman. Not until Elizabeth stepped on a branch and a crack shot across the wood did he look up and around. His start awoke her too and they spotted each other not more than ten metres from one another. Each recognized the other straight away, and each blushed a deep crimson at the current circumstance and at their own personal thoughts. Elizabeth was embarrassed that this exact man was the one who forced her into the night in the first place and here he had the audacity to interrupt her again, as he had at Rosings. But she was unjustly blaming him again. Especially since his thoughts were similarly and also unfairly blaming the other. This woman had invaded his thoughts as he had tried to sleep and she was invading his reality too.

"Miss Elizabeth," he said and bowed his head slightly, "it is very late for a young woman to be wandering about." This comment irked Elizabeth deeply and she narrowed her eyes at him, although it went unnoticed in the current darkness that surrounded them.

"Mr. Darcy, how pleasant a meeting this is, and I assure you, I am perfectly safe in a country such as Kent." She couldn't help but add, "Unless I am to fear you, in which case, I do believe I'd be quite helpless." Her smirk, again, went unnoticed. But to her surprise, he answered with a low chuckle. And just as the half moon peeked through the clouds, he stepped forward and said, "Of course, you have nothing to fear from me."

Elizabeth looked up at his imposing figure and sucked in a breath. His usual tightly buttoned jacket had been purposely forgotten for the nighttime stroll and only a loose linen shirt covered his broad chest. She certainly could fear him, but she didn't. In fact, it was quite the opposite as she fought an urge to step closer to him. As she looked at his somewhat clothed body, she was reminded of her own as she had only put on a loose robe. This wind whistled through the woods and through her clothes to make her body shiver. Darcy took notice of her physical reaction.

"Can I entreat you to come to have tea with me at my quarters in Rosings?" he asked. As she opened her mouth to answer he seemed to catch his impertinence and stumbled over his words to rectify his bold question. "I didn't mean…I only meant to warm yourself for a moment. I understand if you were to refuse, it is very late, but of course you're welcome, we won't run into anyone, not that that is my intention, for no one to see us. I…I just meant…just for tea…" he let his run-on sentence trail off and she could almost see his mental rebuke.

"A cup of steaming tea would be very welcome," she said. She selfishly enjoyed his extreme discomfort and couldn't help but wish it to continue. Watching a gentleman squirm was an especially favorite pastime of hers.

After a walk of awkwardly exchanged civilities, the pair reached the imposing mansion of Rosings. Although she had laughed at Darcy's promises of meeting no one, Elizabeth was desperately hoping it to be true. She soon began to believe she had agreed to this too quickly, only thinking of her own entertainment and not how truly indecorous this was. If Lady Catherine were to see her promised nephew with lowly Elizabeth Bennet, whom she already disliked, her reputation was sure to be ruined by the presumptuous old woman. Just as Elizabeth was about to declare she no longer desired tea, Mr. Darcy gently took her hand and said, "My lodgings are around this way," and he lead her in a different direction. The seemingly innocent action threw Elizabeth and her previous sentence was stopped on her tongue. Darcy didn't let go of her hand even when it was clear she now knew where they were going. Nor did she attempt to slip her hand away. The large, warm hand held hers with a tenderness that made her very aware that this was the longest contact she'd ever really had with a man.

They reached a slight extension off of Rosings that looked like small cottage jutting from the mansion. Darcy let go of Elizabeth and opened the door. He opened his mouth to offer to take her coat but realizing that would leave her very much undressed he closed it again and was content to motion her inside. They entered a small parlor that held the sitting room, although Elizabeth very much doubted it had held many guests.

"This small wing is usually reserved for myself when I visit. I will fetch the tea from the main kitchen." Darcy lit the lanterns that hung between the window panes and exited the room. Elizabeth felt very awkward. She let out a nervous laugh. She had set out from Charlotte's with the goal of alleviating her alienated feelings and ended up greatly increasing them by standing in Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy's private quarters well into the night.

There were only three doors in the room, one leading to the main house that Darcy had just exited through, another outside that they had just entered through and a third that Elizabeth assumed was Darcy's bedroom. A morbid curiosity clutched her and she peeped into the room. A fire was burning in the grate of the small but stately room. His four poster bed was very large and luxurious. She was pleased to note that the entirety of Darcy's private wing wasn't as lavishly and uselessly decorated as the rest of Rosings. She wondered if he had any hand in the creation of this addition.

Elizabeth closed the door to his bedroom and returned to the parlor. She stoked the fire a bit and then sat down, just as Darcy returned with a tray. He set it down and poured her a cup, adding cream and no sugar. She was surprised and deeply flattered that he remembered how she took her tea. He poured his (no cream, no sugar) and sat down next to her and took a sip. Only the crackle of the fire was heard as the two sat next to each other. Elizabeth noticed that Darcy had put on a night coat over his shirt and she smiled to herself.

Actually catching on for once, Darcy asked, "I have seen that smile before. May I ask what absurdity you laugh at now?" Elizabeth's smile widened and noted how observant he was of her character.

"I cannot say it's been difficult. You've become wholly predictable to me," he said, sipping his tea after. She was taken aback by such an admission!

"Mr. Darcy, do I dare believe you are teasing me?" she exclaimed with mock offense.

"Miss Elizabeth, it pains me that you could even begin to believe me capable of such a thing! I am far too rich of a man to make jokes." She could hardly believe what she was hearing. The man that everyone believed to be so proud and humorless was not only teasing Elizabeth but also himself! Never had her respect for someone been so drastically changed within the hour.

"Well I think I may have heard everything now. Next Bingley will become the sensible one of your party! Hardly anything else could surprise me more," she joked. Darcy laughed at this view of his friend. He had a wonderful laugh, Elizabeth noted, deep and comforting, coming from real joy. She couldn't help but laugh along with him.

As her laugh faded into a smile, she made a motion to pick up her cup of tea; while at the same moment, Darcy reached to set his down. The simultaneous motions resulted in confusion and apologetic exclamations that resulted in his cup being overturned directly into her lap. The heat from the all-too-recently boiling water seeped through her clothes. On instinct she jumped up and discarded her robe. Only when the threat of a burn was alleviated did she realize she was only in her light cotton nightdress. She blushed deeply as Mr. Darcy unabashedly stared at her. He stood up and again, but this time in an unusual hushed tone, he apologized for his blunder. Elizabeth said nothing. Noticing her silence, Darcy raised his eyes from her body and looked her in the eyes he thought so fine.

"If I may be so bold, I would like to challenge your latter statement."

Elizabeth was thoroughly confused. "I'm not sure what you mean."

"You said hardly anything could surprise you more. I can think of something."

Elizabeth felt something like anticipation or excitement in the pit of her stomach. "You can? I would be very interested to hear it," she said, a bit more nervously than intended.

"I'm quite sure I'd have to show you," he said softly, moving toward her. His face flickered in the firelight. In what felt like a second and an hour all at once, Darcy was standing directly in front of her. Elizabeth looked up at the tall man and couldn't ever see how she once thought him plain. Admittedly, a similar thought was running through the man's mind as well. His strong hands that so recently held hers had graduated to holding her face. His thumb stroked her cheek as his eyes hungrily roamed her face and came to rest on her lips. Feeling his gaze there she nervously ran her tongue over them. His breathing picked up and out of nervousness and general habit of being forthright she said, "You are welcome to try, but I—"However, before she was able to finish her sentence, his lips were on hers and she had to admit to herself, this was a turn of events she had not expected, and was thus surprised.

Despite the urgency of the kiss, his lips were gentle and soft and she felt her knees weaken. His left hand trailed away from her face and came to rest at the small of her back, holding her up and pulling her closer. As Darcy pulled his face away for a breath, he hesitated in the return. A gentleman even while ungentlemanly, he silently questioned her willingness. In a response she wished she could say was mindless, she reached her arms up and entwined them around his neck in an invitation. She pulled him closer and with added assuredness, he kissed her again. She felt him smile in the kiss and it was her turn to wonder at what absurdity he was laughing.

She pressed her body even closer to his, feeling the hardness of his chest and realizing how much she always wanted him, never knowing until now. She sank deeper into the kiss and was surprised again as his tongue entered her mouth. The heat and slickness of his tongue felt alien and exquisite. Another area, much lower than her mouth, was building with heat and her hunger for him grew. He removed his right hand from her face and wrapped both around her waist and lifted her from the ground. Her arms around his neck tightened and she hardly noticed through their feverish kissing that he had entered his bedroom. He kicked the door closed behind him and moved his hands to her thighs, lifting her more and turned and pressed her against the door. Her legs wrapped around his waist, shoving her nightdress high over her knees. Darcy maneuvered his hands so they slipped under her dress and cupped her butt to keep her up. She gasped at the intimate contact. Darcy moved his lips from her mouth and to her jaw line and her neck. She rested her head against the door and closed her eyes, enjoying the sensations coursing through her.

Darcy took one hand from cupping her butt and began to unbutton her nightgown. With her breasts free, Darcy ran the previously occupied hand up her spine, causing shivers to flood down to where his other hand still held her up. She let out a shaky breath and intertwined her hands in his hair as his head moved downward. His mouth captured one of her nipples and his tongue made a hot, circular trail around it. A moan escaped her mouth as he moved to her other breast. He began to move upward, trailing kisses as he went. He pressed his lips into the dip next to her collarbone. Elizabeth smiled and pulled his head back level with hers and kissed him.

Darcy moved them toward the bed and set her down on it so she was looking up at him. He stood there for a moment just looking at her, stray hairs loose over her face with her breasts on full view. He was struck with awe for a moment; the exact desire that had forced him into the cool night had manifested right before him. She sat up and pulled his coat from his shoulders and untucked the cotton shirt. She watched him lift it over his head and throw it aside. She too lifted her night dress off and threw it away. She was now completely bare chested with only her flimsy under skirt left, not leaving much to the imagination. Darcy stared at her for a moment, questioning her with his eyes. She smirked and writhed out of the skirt too. This time Darcy took it and hastily threw it for her. Elizabeth was now completely naked. This was the first time a man had ever set eyes on more than a stray ankle. Although for some incredible reason, she wasn't embarrassed. She felt the desire and gratitude and possibly even love emanating from Darcy. She had never felt so wanted.

Darcy stripped down completely as she stared at him. He stood in front of her, bearing all for her, waiting for her cue. She was frozen on the bed, staring at a sight before now unseen. He was so large, in stature and in endowment. She sucked in a breath and tore her eyes away from his lower half and brought them to his face. She pushed herself up toward him and stood on her knees, making her almost level with him. She put her hands on his wide shoulders and pulled him down onto the bed with her. She moved her legs out from under and spread them, allowing him to lay between her. He held himself above her and they stared into each other's eyes. She smiled lightly and he returned it, taking it as a cue to continue. He lowered his lips to hers and they passionately shared one last virgin kiss.

He moved his hand downward to position himself. She gasped as she felt his hardness request entry at her soft and slick entrance. She widened her legs more, anticipation causing tendrils of pleasure to swirl in her lower abdomen. Their lips were still locked as he pushed further into her. She winced at the pain, but as Darcy continued on, it lessened, giving way to a new feeling she'd never could have imagined. Darcy lowered himself to softly kiss her as he continued in and out. Her legs were butter and she felt her body tensing in anticipation. She ran her fingers through his hair and down his back, lightly scratching him with her nails. He moaned into her mouth as she reached his buttocks and gripped it. She felt a new found confidence from his reaction and before she could feel nervous she pushed him off her and over onto his back. He rolled over easily, surprised by her daring, as he always was. She straddled him and began riding him slowly. He was staring up at her wide eyed, a surprised smile playing on his lips. She loved it. She loved his constant surprise at her. She immensely enjoyed defying his expectations of a woman. She may not be able to paint a table or net a purse, but she could ride Darcy right off the edge.

Elizabeth folded over him, placing her hands on his wide shoulders and kissing him as she continued to move up and down. His hands wrapped slowly around her back; it felt as if he was remembering every curve. She was close and she could feel he was right with her. He sat up abruptly, this time surprising her. She continued to move against him as she wrapped her arms around his neck. The pleasure built and she began to move faster, eager and ready. He had her lower lip in between his as they came together. Neither previous virgin had ever felt such a powerful feeling in their bodies and in their souls. As wave after wave rolled through them they continued to kiss, desperate for every plane of themselves to touch, furiously trying to become one.

Her legs and arms still wrapped around him, Darcy stood up and walked around to the side of the bed. He flipped back the covers with a free hand and fell down onto the bed with her. He threw the covers back over them as she disentangled herself from around his torso. He laid on his back and she scooted over and rested on his chest. His arms enfolded around her small frame. She looked up at him and he moved his head toward hers. They shared a kiss, less fervent than before, slower and deeper now.

She laid her head back on his chest. She felt content. He was so warm and she could feel her eyes falling shut. She couldn't bother to worry about tomorrow because this, right now, was all that filled her head. She couldn't even fathom how she ended up here. It all felt so unreal.

"I feel unreal," Darcy murmured. His deep voice reverberated through his chest. "To think, I walked out tonight to clear my head of you and your lovely eyes." Elizabeth smiled at his admission. But then he continued to speak. "I am thankful I ignored my better judgements; this has been a wonderful consequence for my errors," he chuckled.

Elizabeth propped herself up with her elbow, looking at him. His eyes were closed and a light smile played on his lips. The languid feeling that their romantic entanglement left him with made him unaware of her current indignation.

"And what errors would those be, sir?" She asked, her voice icy—an effect lost on the unassuming gentleman.

"Well of course I shouldn't have taken advantage of a lone woman in the night, and one of such birth at that. But I don't regret it," he smiled, "if it was to be anyone, I am glad it was you."

The last compliment fell upon deaf ears. Elizabeth glared at him. She gathered the sheet and untucked it from the bed. She gingerly lept off the bed and wrapped the sheet around her naked body. She angrily put her nightdress on, her hands shaking as she tried to button it. Darcy propped himself up and looked at her, quite bewildered.

"What are you doing?" he asked, a look of innocence on his face that irked Lizzy.

"If my birth is so offensive to you, I am going to leave," she said hotly.

Darcy had the decency to look apologetic and tried to alleviate what he'd done. "Miss Elizabeth, I said I didn't regret it. You're very important to me, despite that!"

Elizabeth's anger grew. "I'm so glad you found it in you to leap the obstacle of how inferior I am!" Tears threatened to spill, but she refused to let them. She had finished buttoning her dress and rushed into the sitting room before he could retort. She put on her still wet robe and began slipping on her shoes. Darcy came clumsily into the room attempting to fasten his trousers.

"Elizabeth, please don't go," he said. All she wanted to do was rush back into his arms and fall asleep on his chest. But she wouldn't allow herself to be the lesser in that situation. She was constantly reminded by the outside world of her low birth, she didn't need herself to join the degradation also.

She got her second shoe on and looked at him and swiftly turned and walked out the door. The chill air slapped her in the face as she hurried around Rosings Park. The harsh night brought every doubt and worry to the front of her mind. What had she been thinking? The tears fell hotly down her face. She broke into a run when the Collins' home came into view. She tried to be as quiet as a distraught woman could be as she snuck back into the house. Once she got to her room she let herself cry freely. Anger, embarrassment and loss roiled in her stomach. And pity. Pity for herself. When she realized that she made herself stop crying. She wiped away the tears and used the water basin in her room to splash her face. She had never been a woman to pity herself and she wasn't going to start now. She slipped off the robe and lay in bed. Her exhaustion finally caught up to her and she drifted off in a deep, post-cry sleep. The last thought on her mind was Darcy's smile as he kissed her. Tonight had been the singular best and worst night of her life.

The next day was a bit of a haze. She knew Charlotte was worried about her as she did seem to be a bit off. She just said she wasn't feeling well and then declined an invitation to eat out that night. Indignation had replaced hurt and pity and she felt content to just be angry.

That night while the Collins' were still out someone knocked on the door. She answered it and a sheepish Darcy stood there. She allowed him to pass and swallowed the lump in her throat as they entered the sitting room. He stood at the fireplace as she sat down. He must have realized how guilty he had looked because he straightened up and looked her in the eye determinedly.

"Miss Elizabeth, you must allow me to tell you how ardently I admire and love you,"
he said. Elizabeth was surprised but quickly it turned to anger again. Mistaking his true feelings for an arrogant attempt to assuage his guilt and hers, she became very insulted.

Obviously deciding to decline she couldn't help but list every reason she possibly had; his treatment of Wickham, his arrogance in separating her sister and Bingley, and his proud and disdainful attitude. She conspicuously left out one reason, but it was the loudest one in the room.

"And this is your opinion of me?" Darcy asked. He looked as if he'd like to be angry, but the hurt and disappointment shined through his eyes.

"You could not have made me the offer of your hand in any possible way that would have tempted me to accept it," Elizabeth said shakily.

Darcy looked taken aback and Elizabeth immediately felt guilty. Yet the damage was done and she felt blessedly relieved when he hastily left the cottage. Tears spilled silently from eyes, for the second time that day. She felt so hurt and dejected.

Yet when she recalled the previous night to her memory, the way he held her face between his hands to kiss her, the way he ran his hands over her body, she still felt a warmth flow through her limbs. And she knew she still loved him.

And now we melt back into the book, so if you haven't read the book and you're thinking, "What? What a horrible ending!" then what are you doing here, go read the book! Misunderstandings abound, whimsical and satirical humor and a happy ending! Of course Darcy and Lizzy get together! Hope you enjoyed it!