Temptation at Rosings: A Pride & Prejudice Variation

temptation at rosings A PRIDE & PREJUDICE VARIATION EMMA EAST Copyright © 2023 by Emma East All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review. Created with Vellum contents Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Epilogue Also by Emma East About the Author one The afternoon sun hung low in the sky, throwing a golden light over the sprawling grounds of Rosings. Inside, the grand house stood in dignified silence, its stately walls and luxurious furnishings a testament to the grandeur of its occupants. Mr. Darcy stood at the window of his chambers, surveying the grounds before him. The garden lay in tranquil repose, the spring flowers in full bloom and the trees arching their branches in a graceful canopy. He spotted the roses in the walled garden, petals as vibrant as the spring day. He sighed, a mixture of contentment and melancholy, as he watched the scene. He had made it his habit to take in the view from his window every afternoon, and today was no different. Soon it would be time to leave Rosings for London, but a growing side of him didn’t want to leave, and it all had to do with a certain young lady visiting a friend nearby. His feelings were conflicted on this point. Elizabeth Bennet was not one his family or friends would choose for his wife. While she herself was unobjectionable, the state of her family and her lack of connections certainly didn’t fit the dignity everyone expected of his future wife. However, in the short time since their first meeting in the autumn, he found himself increasingly drawn to her. He had expected her to be like the rest of her family, but he had been mistaken. She was different, unlike the silly, giddy girls he had usually associated with. She was bold, confident and intelligent. Her forthright manner and her quick wit had a way of melting his reserve, and he had enjoyed her company and the unexpected challenge. The challenge and the pleasure had been more than he anticipated. In the last few weeks of his visit, he’d sought every opportunity to spend time in her presence, and it had convinced him that despite his initial objections, she was special. Rarely, in the course of his daily life, did he feel a strong desire to do something other than what was expected of him. Yet something about her drew him to her, and it wasn’t only her beauty, which had grown in his opinion since the fateful day they met. He couldn’t say when it had happened, but he understood his heart was markedly altered now by her person. He had spent the night restless and unable to sleep, his thoughts full of Elizabeth Bennet. As the first rays of morning light shone through the window, he sat up in bed, feeling a newfound resolve—he would ask Elizabeth to be his wife. He had become so lost in his thoughts that he had not noticed the figures approaching from the east, until he saw them outlined against the dying sun. Two figures entered the garden, a man and a woman. From his vantage point, he could not make out their faces, but he could tell that they were obviously in the throes of some heated exchange. The man was of a strong and muscular build, while the woman had a delicate and elegant figure. They walked close together, their words indiscernible, and they reached a stone bench almost directly under Darcy’s window. The man’s hands reached out to touch the woman’s arm and he pulled her into an embrace, making her laugh as he sat down with her entangled in his arms on his lap. As he watched, the man drew the woman even closer and bent to press a kiss to her lips. He stopped breathing when he realized who they were—Colonel Fitzwilliam and Elizabeth Bennet. He could recognize those dark curls of hers anywhere, and his cousin’s silhouette was as familiar as his own, but he hadn’t wanted to recognize them, not when they were obviously so intimate. A hot spike of envy and despair ripped through his core as he watched them, the feeling swelling like a wave crashing over him until he felt like his insides were being ripped apart. A small noise escaped him, furious and choked, but he stayed silent, his hand forming a fist on the window frame and unable to tear his gaze away from the couple. For they were a couple, that much was obvious. Elizabeth wound her arms around Fitzwilliam’s neck and leaned into him while his hands caressed up her sides. Darcy’s window was cracked enough for the buzz of the bees and the noise of the gardens to reach his room, enough to bring him some small peace. Now that peace was destroyed when he heard Fitzwilliam murmur to Elizabeth, “You taste so good, little dove.” Her laughter drifted to him next. She leaned back, hands caressing his shoulders as she looked down at his besotted smile. “What a brown-noser you are.” “I only speak the truth. My little dove has the sweetest tongue.” She tapped his bottom lip. “And you could charm snakes with yours.” His hands spanned over her back, massive compared to her small frame, while he smiled up at her. “The only one I want to charm is you, and you are no snake.” “Hmm, I thought to say something pithy about a snake biting you,” she said with a husky laugh as she curved toward him again, her fingers tangling in his thick brown hair while she lingered over his lips, “but all I want is a nibble.” “Not all you want, surely?” Fitzwilliam’s hands tightened on her back as she teased