To Refuse Such a Man: A Pride and Prejudice Variation by P. O. Dixon Page B

the stairs. Nary a word was exchanged, but Elizabeth liked to think that would be changed soon enough, thus erasing the strange sense of missing him that she suffered even though he was standing right next to her.
    When they arrived at the door, he clasped her hand, raised it to his lips, and kissed it. “Good night, Mrs. Darcy.”
    Wanting to put an end to the cool civility between them, she heard herself say, “Will you not be joining me, sir?”
    After what seemed a long time, but could not have been more than a second or two, he said, “I shall see you tomorrow—at breakfast.” Releasing her hand and bowing slightly, Darcy went away.
    Elizabeth did not know what to think or how to feel. She drifted into her room. Seeing that her night clothes—a silk negligee and matching robe—were placed on the bed, she rang for her maid. Were it not for the elaborate fastenings on her gown, she surmised she was more than capable of getting herself ready for bed. From the looks of things, that night would be no different from any other—except that she would be sleeping in a strange bed in a great big, empty room. Looking around, she had never felt so alone as she felt at that moment.
    A half hour later, Elizabeth sat up in bed in deep reflection of the prospects for her future happiness. What had happened to the man who had been so attentive to her during the days and weeks leading to the wedding? Had she caused him so much pain with her unintentional rebuff?
    Have I led him to believe that I do not welcome his affections? Is he regretting our hasty marriage?
    Elizabeth glanced in the direction of his apartment, and she detected a sliver of light peeking from underneath the door that she had not noticed before. Getting out of bed, she tiptoed across the room in her bare feet to listen. She remained there for at least a minute. No sound could be discerned.
    Then she heard a man’s cough. She raced back to her bed.
    For half an hour she continued sitting up in bed, cradling her knees to her chest. This is not how I intended to spend the first night of my married life. She traced her fingers over her lips in remembrance of their first kiss as man and wife. It was pleasant enough, but it was not to be compared to their first kiss at Netherfield. That kiss had awakened her desires and left her longing for something more. Something so powerful, she likened her stirring passions whenever the two of them were alone to wantonness.
    She recalled her promise to herself that she would not give into her yearnings no matter what—at least until after the wedding. She suspected Mr. Darcy’s struggles were no less than her own, as evidenced by his body’s response whenever they were alone. Still, he had been a consummate gentleman in every respect since that rainy day at Netherfield. Save an incidental brush of their hand during the carriage ride to town, he had held himself in check. Now, when they were at liberty to explore their bodies’ beckoning, a misunderstanding had been the means of erecting a wall between them.
    The prelude to Mr. Darcy’s marriage proposal echoed in her mind.
    “I know what I am about to say to you might seem rather untoward, but decades from now when you look back at this moment, my greatest wish is that you will remember it fondly.”
    “Decades from now, when I reflect upon this night should my memories not be even fonder?” Elizabeth whispered. Lifting her face to the ceiling, Elizabeth exhaled a determined breath. It will not do. She lowered her feet to the floor and reached for her silken robe.
    Pray, this is the only wedding night I shall ever have. I shall not allow a misunderstanding to intrude on the happiness of what is meant to be one of the most unforgettable days of my life.
    Moments later, she slowly pushed open the door separating the two apartments. The blazing log fire cast a romantic air all about the room—warm and inviting. Elizabeth espied her husband sitting up in bed, his back