Mr. Darcy's Obsession by Abigail Reynolds

She wanted him to kiss her. He could tell by the way she tipped up her chin, her body swaying towards his. It took every ounce of control he possessed not to take advantage of the moment, but they were in public, and he knew there were eyes upon them. But as soon as he had her alone, then he would taste her sweetness.
    There was a copse not far ahead. It would have to do, for he could not wait long. He steered her down the path along the hedgerow. Now he covered her hand with his own again, this time tightening his grip possessively, and he felt a gentle squeeze of his arm in response.
    It was all he needed. Dizzy with delight, he said, "You cannot know how much relief it brings me to finally say these words to you. I have fought it for so long. My mind would not allow the inclination of my heart because of the many obstacles that stood between us. The objectionable connections of your family, the effects on the consequence of my own family of any alliance between us, stood forever as an insurmountable barrier. I could not accept such low connections, even more so, given the behaviour of certain members of your family. What would society say? I could not overcome it. That last evening when you were in Kent, I finally knew my struggles were in vain, and I resolved to make you an offer when the opportunity might present itself."
    A soft smile came over her face. "So long ago as that? You are tardy, sir."
    "Longer even than that, had my judgment not fought my inclination with such force."
    "I had no idea. I thought then that you disliked me."
    "Disliked you? Of course not." He was sorely tempted to show her just how far from dislike his feelings were. "But you departed unexpectedly, and I took it as a sign that I should heed my misgivings. I regretted it more often than I can say. When I saw you here, it was as if no time had passed. Now your situation is different, and the distance between our ranks yet further, an alliance even more inconceivable, yet I cannot imagine a life where I cannot be with you whenever I wish, to hold you close and tell you of my love, to show you the ardour I feel." He stopped the flow of words before he went even further beyond the realm of propriety than he already had. More quietly, he said, "Please tell me you will relieve my misery." He could no longer resist. He cupped her cheek in his hand--that incredibly soft skin he had imagined so often--and turned her face towards his.
    Elizabeth looked disturbed, no doubt at his presumption, but he was certain that would change. And then it was done, just the merest touch of his lips to hers, the briefest sensation of warmth, softness, and sunlight. As he drew back, he closed his eyes to savour the sensation and was caught completely off guard by a flash of burning pain across his face.
    He stared in shock at Elizabeth, his hand involuntarily moving to his injured cheek. In his astonishment, the only thought that registered in his mind was that it was a blow intended to injure.
    Her eyes were filled with tears as she cradled her hand against her chest. It must have hurt her, as well. "How dare you?" she said, her voice trembling. "How dare you? Have you no shame? I should have expected it, after all I had heard of you from Mr. Wickham, not to mention your arrogant behaviour towards my family, but I allowed myself to think better of you. I was a fool."
    "Mr. Wickham?" The hated name stood out from her unexpected tirade as he flinched from the fury in her eyes. "What did he tell you?"
    "Nothing but the truth! How you cheated him of his inheritance, of your insufferable pride, and I saw for myself your complete disdain for the feelings of others, especially those who were below you . Well, now your intolerable pride will have to be your consolation, for I will not!" Her voice grew too choked for her to continue, and tears poured down her cheeks. She shook her head silently, a look of horror in her eyes. Before he had even guessed her intent, she gathered up