The grounds were extensive, she knew. Though the structure itself was imposing, the public rooms and salons on the main level lent a certain austere elegance to the place that the owner thought more of Society’s tastes than comfort.

A certain young lady had been granted the privilege of occupying some of these rooms for the span of several weeks and had comported herself just enough to utter an empty compliment or two on the furnishings and art. It was a tedious business to repeat her admiration each and every time she entered a room though it was expected in polite society and given in feigned cheerfulness. As it always happened on their twice-weekly visits, any fun or lively conversation was promptly put to an end unless someone could have their share in it. All talk was insipid and no one could do anything save roll their eyes and sigh over refreshments as that Lady professed herself and her daughter accomplished at anything and everything with such force that demanded the attention of all in the room. But, on a spur of the moment request by a gallant young man to explore the upper levels - when the Lady of the Manor had to attend to some unexpected business, of course - she could only smile delightedly and graciously accept.

The others were not so pleased in any attempts to withdraw from their place or to hear the wrath of the Matron of Rosings Park once she condescended to return and found them without, so they remained where they were. Another was conspicuously missing, but his absence was hardly felt by most.

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He bowed before her. "Here is the end of our tour."

"I thank you, Sir." She was better pleased with the style and décor above stairs and smiled her approbation. "You have been most kind."

"Shall we join the others?"

"I think… Is there somewhere I could go… to freshen up a bit?" It was highly improper to actually say the words in company of the opposite sex.

"But, of course. Three doors down…" He pointed down the other hallway that they had first traversed. "and to the left."

"Thank you," she demurred.

"Shall I wait for you?"

"Again, you are very kind, but I feel quite safe."

"Indeed you are." He led her to the grand staircase. "The maids should be just finishing their rounds and airing out the rooms."

"Then I shall venture not to get in their way."

"My aunt should be completing her affairs soon but I fear she will not call for tea until my cousin returns."

"Is he expected?"

"Yes. He went for a ride this morning and has not yet come back again."

"I dare say he will be missed." Though she could not keep the sarcasm from her voice, the young man had missed it entirely.

"Until then." He bowed again.

Colonel Fitzwilliam turned one way as Elizabeth turned the other.

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There seemed to be a problem - one of catastrophic proportions but it could not be helped. Elizabeth had counted the three doors down from the grand staircase and turned left. Unfortunately for her, she should’ve started counting from the position in which she and the Colonel stood when she received the direction. Now, however, she was staring in wide-eyed disbelief at her predicament.

Upon hearing the door open then close, the young man propelled himself out of the tub to be handed a towel.

"Mr. Darcy!"

"Miss Bennet?!"

They were both frozen to the spot. One had the advantage of blushing profusely around the face and neck, the other from head to toe. A great misfortune indeed!

Mortified as she was, her eyes randomly roamed his body and her hands never considered covering her eyes… even when they met with the evidence of his disturbance, for it rose and swelled upon the occasion. In her young and inquisitive life, she had seen an illustration of it in a book and even perceived it upon some of the male animals on her family’s farm in the mating season but nothing was to prepare her for the reality of it and on this particular male. She could have run away - Indeed, she should have - but something, perhaps lust but more like curiosity propelled her forward.

For a few moments, Elizabeth lightly caressed the skin of Darcy’s staff in awe. Then raised her fine eyes to his when she felt him shudder.

Darcy could do nothing nor could he say anything at her unexpected fondling. He openly stared at her as though she were but one of his frequent and painful dreams.

The intensity of his gaze was so white-hot, she felt her stomach flutter and that caused her to look away then down. Without warning or thought she wrapped one delicate hand around it and stroked firmly from the tip to the hip, repeatedly. She was fascinated and kneeled down to take a better look at it. Her father’s words came to her for some unknown reason. Curiosity could be your downfall, Lizzy, unless it is tempered with sense. Taste had always been the sense that she relied on most times. And taste she did. Just a flick of the tongue, but it was enough to cause a reaction from him.

"Dear… God…!" was all he could say before he fell to his knees before her.

Elizabeth startled and looked up, but before she could utter a word, Darcy grasped her face in both hands and kissed her ravenously. He spoke, but his words were for the most part incoherent as his desire for her was violently expressed with his mouth entirely joined to hers. Intuitively, and notwithstanding the heat that had developed between her legs, she let go of his lower half only to throw her arms around his neck and demand more.

For long minutes, she enjoyed the sensation of his tongue delving deep into her mouth and challenging hers to do the same to his while her hands ran wildly though his dark curls as he kneaded her breasts through her dress. However, since he was such a tall gentleman, his manhood intermittently poked her in the ribs. Half her attention on his kisses, the other half on that which thrust against her, those same delicate hands traveled slowly down from his neck, grazed his broad shoulders and back to his extension.

"I need you!" he rasped against her lips.

She was thus inclined and before the minute hand on the clock had traversed a complete round, Elizabeth found herself lying flat on the floor with the top half of her dress wrenched down to reveal her bosom and the bottom half hiked up around her waist; petticoat, stocking and shoe of one leg - gone missing.

Darcy took little time in ravishing her. His mouth hungrily suckled and nipped both breasts as though it was his first taste of ice cream while one hand gently but firmly ensconced itself between the cleft of her open legs.

Her eyes rolled back into her head and she moaned deep and low as she experienced her first wave of pleasure. With a self-satisfied smile, he ascertained then that she was more than ready for him and positioned his body between her thighs.

Elizabeth sucked in her breath in both pleasure and pain as Darcy entered her wet folds, but the phenomenon was too heady for her and she cried out as he moved within her. He was lost. Lost to her cries and exclamations; lost to the pleasures he had abstained from for several years; lost to his own heart, body and soul.

Vivid pictures of their last conversation came to her mind as she lay beneath him - though she knew not why. He seemed to expect that whenever she came into Kent again she would be staying at Rosings rather than the Hunsford Cottage. If this is what I can look forward to then… "Yes! Yes! YES!!!"

He groaned in her hair as her body clutched him tightly. Ere long they had both fallen hard over the edge of pleasure but before they could recover and he could declare himself and ask for her hand in marriage, a knock came to the door.

"Mr. Darcy? Are you in there?"

Knowing that if he did not answer the door it would be opened. "YES!" he growled.

"Lady Catherine requires your attendance in the drawing room."

Elizabeth giggled quietly and kissed his chest.

"I shall be there… directly."

"Yes, Sir. Of course, Sir. Sir?"

"Yes?"

"Miss Bennet has not been seen for nearly and hour and the Collinses’ seem to think that she is lost in the woods."

Darcy looked down upon the beauty before him and withdrew from her. "Send out a search party. I shall join them as soon as I’m able."

"Yes, Sir."

"Elizabeth…" Darcy had waited until the footsteps of the servant fell away. "I fear neither of us are fit for company at present. We can go out the back way and you can make your way back to the Parsonage without being seen."

"Of course," she complied but with little emotion. He had seduced her and now wanted nothing more to do with her. She felt betrayed by him and disgusted with herself but would not show him that.

He stood up and disappeared to his rooms to throw on something appropriate. She managed to put herself back together though she did use the sleeves of her dress to wipe her tears. He returned quickly enough and escorted her down through the servant’s hall.

They were silent until they reached the edge of a grove. She moved away but he grasped her hand to impede her progress.

"Meet me here tomorrow morning."

Elizabeth acquiesced by nodding her head but saying nothing - she did not want to get her hopes up too high, for it might be another assignation that he planned.

At the moment that his head descended to sweep a kiss to her bruised lips, the sound of a search party not too far off in the distance, halted his intentions. Darcy released her hand and watched her go reluctantly - he would right this situation tomorrow and propose to her. Society be damned!

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She had been walking in the grove for sometime in hopes or trepidation of seeing him, when on looking up at the sound of footsteps… "Colonel Fitzwilliam!" Elizabeth tried desperately not to sound so surprised nor so discomfited. "I did not know before that you ever walked this way."

"I have been making the tour of the park," he replied, "as I generally do every year…"

And here, my dear friends, is where the Colonel reveals the truth. We know how it all went down at the Parsonage later that evening and I shall not endeavor to repeat it.