Mr. Darcy’s Dungeon – Darcy and Elizabeth Steamy JAFF

Mr. Darcy frowned as he paced Pemberley’s foyer, the heels of his Hessian boots clicking against the marble floor. He expected the arrival of his good friend Mr. Bingley and his new wife at any moment, but that was not what bothered him. No, it was Mr. Bingley’s unmarried sister, Caroline. She had been trying to be the next Mrs. Darcy ever since he had befriended her brother. Because of that friendship, he was loath to broach the topic that he would rather Caroline was anywhere but where he was. The other members of their party, the Hursts, were not so bad. Mr. Hurst did not partake in any conversation unless it pertained to cards, gambling or billiards. His friend was too kind letting his married sister and husband live off his largess.

He paused his steps to pull out his pocket watch and sighed. His plans for that evening would proceed without a hitch only if he timed everything perfectly. He never had guests residing at Pemberley when a gathering of the club occurred. Mr. Bingley did not know about it, and Mr. Darcy did not want to explain the nature of the group to the man. Any rumors would damage his younger sister’s chances at her coming out next year. He would do nothing to endanger her future.

Never would he have allowed this nerve-wracking occurrence if his club had not received word that Lord Watsbane was traveling through the area on his return to Scotland and would be happy to demonstrate his latest invention. It was a chance they could not turn down. Even just thinking about a man of Lord Watsbane’s caliber showing a session had his rod hardening. A fellow enthusiast in the society had invited him and, upon receipt of a favorable reply, moved the date of their monthly gathering to a week later to accommodate Lord Watsbane. Unfortunately, that threw off Mr. Darcy’s careful plans of having guests arrive at a date removed from the society’s assembly.

But the gathering would go off without a hitch. He would see to it. He had delayed the group’s assemblage until a time that Mr. Darcy’s guests would have retired to their rooms. Several days’ travel from Hertfordshire would guarantee all the travelers would be fatigued and eager to sleep. But those two worlds would collide if Bingley’s arrival was delayed.

The key to the special room in the cellar was heavy in his waistcoat pocket. But he kept firm control over his body, even though he was excited at the prospect of seeing a master of the art demonstrating a new invention. He could not imagine would it could be. There was nothing more practitioners of the discipline he enjoyed needed for their pleasure. 

A clattering outside drew his attention. He turned to the main doors, which were opened by a footman. “Sir, several carriages are coming down the driveway.”

Mr. Darcy walked out onto the landing and leaned his hands on the stone balustrade as the conveyances rolled up and stopped in front of the steps. He frowned at the number. Had Bingley’s sisters coerced him into stopping in London to shop on their way north? He let them spend his money like it was water. Another reason he would never consider Caroline Bingley for the position of his wife. His good humor dipped at that thought, because he knew he would not be happy in a marriage, as he could not truly be himself with anyone he married. Because no woman of the required social standing to be his wife would ever take part in his activities in the cellar.

The door to the carriages opened and Mr. Bingley climbed out, then turned to help his new wife, Jane née Bennet. They had married two months past, before Mr. Darcy quit the county to travel back to Derbyshire. He had expressed his misgivings about marrying into the Bennet family, both of Bingley’s sisters had as well. However, his friend would not be convinced that Jane did not return his love.

Mr. Darcy had expected only the newly wedded couple in the first carriage, but Mr. Bingley reached in and helped another person descend. She pulled back the hood of her traveling cloak and he stilled. It was Elizabeth Bennet.

He clenched the stone balustrade, not quite believing his eyes. But as he watched the woman that haunted his dreams speak to her sister, he realized his mouth was hanging open like a simpleton. Quickly, he got himself under control and trotted down the stone steps to the gravel driveway. 

Mr. Bingley turned to him with just as broad a smile as on his wedding day. “Darcy, it is good to see you!” 

He then faced the angelic blonde beside him. Mr. Darcy’s eyes wanted to pass over her and focus on the beauty standing next to her, but he forced himself to look only at Jane. “And my wife, you know, but I can not stop introducing her as my wife to everyone we meet! Mrs. Jane Bingley.”

“I am quite glad to see you again.” Mr. Darcy kissed the back of her hand. “I hope your travel was pleasant?”

“Yes, quite. Thank you.”

Finally, he let his eyes rest on the enchanting woman whose eyes were turned upwards, admiring his estate. “Miss Bennet, this is a surprise, but not an unwelcome one.”

Her gaze turned to his, and he felt the world recede until all he saw was her fine eyes, pert nose, full lips toying with a smile. 

“Thank you, Mr. Darcy.”

Her voice threatened the fierce control he had over his rod. How many nights had he dreamed of her at Pemberley? And now she was here, but not as his wife, though he yearned for that to be a possibility. Though it never would. He could not suffer her rejection at learning of his dungeon, of what he liked while having relations.

“I hope you are not displeased with Pemberley.”

“No, not at all.” Elizabeth’s warm brown eyes widened.

“Then you approve of it?”

She smiles and his breath catches in his throat. “Very much. But I think there are few who would not approve.”

“But your good opinion is rarely bestowed and therefore more worth the earning.” He could not help but share her smile. 

“Thank you.” 

Mr. Darcy dragged his eyes off Elizabeth to look at his friend, who was smirking with amusement. 

As the two sisters walked away, Mr. Bingley turned to him. “I figured you would not mind, Darcy. Jane was most adamant about bringing her sister along with us. Elizabeth has always wanted to see the peak district, and a planned trip with her aunt and uncle had to be canceled earlier this year.”

“Not at all.” 

He walked over to the two sisters and addressed Elizabeth. “Allow me to escort you inside.”

After Elizabeth’s widened gaze darted behind him to the side, then back, did he realize his faux pas. Miss Bingley, as the eldest unmarried woman present, should have been escorted by him into Pemberley. But it was too late now and besides, he doubted she would make anything of his unintended slight.

Elizabeth placed her hand on his arm and they walked up the stone steps together. He kept his breathing steady even though his heart was racing. Elizabeth Bennet was here at Pemberley, his home at last. If only she could be his wife and not just an unexpected guest. Why had Bingley not written him of their extra traveling companion? He would find out after supper, but he was not upset over the matter. No, he was thankful, though it was torture. To have the beautiful woman under his roof, her curvaceous body, along with her wit and intelligence. He knew his duty, his spouse needed to be higher on the social ladder. But he had never got her out of his mind.

“You seemed quite surprised to see me, Mr. Darcy. Tell me, did my new brother-in-law forget to inform you of my arrival? I apologize if that was the case. I certainly did not mean to intrude.”

“Miss Bennet, you are not intruding at all. Think nothing of the sort even though you are correct.”

“I must confess I have wanted to visit Pemberley ever since Mr. Wickham informed us he grown up here and described the beautiful land and buildings. Never have I seen a house so nicely situated.”

Mr. Darcy clenched his dangling hand into a fist at the mention of that scoundrel. “Thank you. Is the militia is still quartered in Meryton?”

His question was answered by someone else, though. “Yes Eliza, do tell. Has your family suffered from the militia being gone from Meryton?”

He turned to Miss Bingley, who was being helped out of her coat by a servant in Pemberley’s foyer. She displayed a coy smile directed at Elizabeth.

“My family is suffering through their absence quite well.” 

Miss Bingley could not have known that was the worst subject to bring up in his presence. No one knew, other than his cousin Col. Fitzwilliam, that Wickham, now a member of the militia that had been quartered in Meryton, had tried to elope with Georgiana last year. He turned away at the sound of footsteps approaching.

“Welcome. A light supper will be available in the dining room whenever you are ready,” announced Mrs. Reynolds.

Mr. Darcy could not stop looking at Elizabeth Bennet during the meal. She was obviously tired from the long three days travel from Hertfordshire county, but she was still beautiful. He had never forgotten her since he had departed from Netherfield and returned to his home. Indeed, rarely a day passed that he did not think of her. And never a night, for she stared in his dreams. He envied his friend for following his heart and marrying Jane Bennet. 

Mr. Darcy forced himself to look away from her, drank his tea, then placed the cup on the saucer, after realizing everyone’s eyes were turned to him. “I was woolgathering. Did I miss a question?”

“Yes,” answered the beguiling woman herself. “I asked what activities you had planned for us, Mr. Darcy? If there is a ball or supper party, I would like an advance notice as I would need to meet the seamstress in the nearby town.”

That brought his mind to the last occasion he had seen her at such an event. She had looked extremely fetching in her dress with the low neckline. He leaned back in his chair and swallowed as his breeches were getting rather tight. “I have nothing such as that planned, but I could easily arrange it. Though the availability of musicians would need to be ascertained. My sister Georgiana would never forgive me if I held a ball without her presence. We must wait for her arrival from London in a sennight’s time.”

Mr. Bingley beamed at his wife. Miss Bingley and Mrs. Hurst shared a long look, but it was Elizabeth whose opinion that mattered to him. She looked back at him as if she was trying to make out his character.