& Moira Bianchi: The Prince of Pemberley - Book 1 - Chapter 7

sexta-feira, 17 de abril de 2015

The Prince of Pemberley - Book 1 - Chapter 7


I'm happy to say that I finally finished the Portugues version of my second book '45 days in Europe with Mr. Darcy'... Now to revision and to beta and... September is coming!

Anyway, back to the oh-so-charming Prince. Tks for the views, hope you're enjoying his and Lizzy's friendship and please, leave me a note.

As always, if you haven't already, read the story's front page before diving in. Tks.

pride and prejudice fanfic


Previous chapter


Taming the inner freak

In his life, this Fitzwilliam Darcy (for there had been others before him, the old fashioned name was a legacy that skipped very few generations) had made it happen. Less than twenty years had passed since he had taken over the family business and he was already on the verge of doubling the fortune he inherited.

He could not be called a business shark for he lacked geniality; often times lost his slot and missed deals but he had the uncanny capacity of choosing the right staff. His board of directors and CEOs was composed of extremely capable men – actual sharks that he fed chunky anchovies frequently.

From one who made it happen in business to a man who wondered what happened in his personal life. Fitzwilliam Darcy hadn't realized how domesticated he was before Elizabeth Bennett Wickham reminded him of who he once wanted to become.

He always had been a loner; he liked to be left to his own things. The Youth Group, the pen friendship with Elizabeth and the radio were devices he created to show the world a facade he had created. Elizabeth had been the one who penetrated his carefully constructed bubble and he knew from the beginning he would always want to have her around.

He proudly mastered logical reasoning, refusing to let emotions rule over him and was fairly successful. He had married a woman of his instance, settling for the steady girlfriend from his college years, and by doing so he had ensured the continuance of his family's pedigree.

Slowly and deliberately he chose how to respond to any marital problems, frequently wearing his wife down. Of course he had the same impulses as everyone else but he had never expected to be happy in his marriage anyway. Anne was dependent of her mother and he was happier in the comfort of Pemberley. It was simple.
The afternoon he passed in his attic reading Elizabeth's old letters awakened him to how he had spent years, decades watching his personal life enfold, rarely taking the reins.

Worst was that once he met her in person, he saw the Darcy Elizabeth imagined and how much who he actually was surprised her.

And those two days in London with her messed up with his head even more.

Unable to fight the addiction of spending time with Elizabeth, he  arranged his business to spend three days with her in Paris just a month after she had been in London.

Her presence was each time more consuming to him, not only because she was a hot woman. Seeing himself through her eyes was an irresistible sin, he felt like cheating time, powerful and invincible. Here he was in his forties feeling like he was barely twenty. The onslaught of memories, emotions and passions won over him, transferred him to a time where his regrets weren't bigger than life.

'Paris will always be my chimera.' Elizabeth said in a big smile as they wandered the Louvre. She had asked Darcy to meet her there because she craved the opportunity to walk aimlessly amongst the best pieces of art in the world. 'The first time I arrived here, I was dazzled. Not in an arrogant or cool sense, in the raw aspect, you know? Like, hillbillies seeing the world!'

Darcy chuckled.

'Even the pollution in Paris smelled better, the men were more handsome, the tall women dressed better... After years studying French I was overwhelmed by the Seine, Champs Élysées, Notre Dame, Louvre, Place des Vosges...' She sighed stopping to admire one of Louis XV's furniture set. 'I hope my inferiority doesn’t offend you, King.' She hugged his arm to get closer. 'It’s just that now I'm about to fulfill a dream: live in Paris for a while!' She smiled urging him to walk again.

Elizabeth's intention was to emphasize their proximity and pressing her boobs to the back of his upper arm never crossed her mind. Or that it would set his loins in flames. 'Not at all, Bart.' He said folding the arm she was holding over his chest to tuck her hand in the crook.

'I’ll have to find a place for my own here!' She shrieked discreetly and reached out to hold the hand he rested on his chest. 'How amazing is that?'

'Very.' He said. "I hope I won't break in sweat here."

'So, college has released a preliminary schedule and I'll have two weeks' classes every two or three months. At the beginning of each new module I'll have to update them on my research that I'll be conducting with my students back home. Georgiana's info was of great value; she was great, really.' Elizabeth said animatedly. 'My grant covers a good hotel for this trip and maybe the next but then the cash will drop a lot! One of the guys has asked for a paid leave to move here.' She rolled her eyes. 'I can afford some of the stays but we're talking about... Fifteen modules of two weeks if everything goes well, either here or London; plus visits for discussing the thesis. I'd better find a small flat for rent, preferably small so I won't have to put up with roommates. Charlotte is a good friend but I’d like to be alone to concentrate on studying.'

'And you don't want to share your dreamt adventure.' Darcy said with a sarcastic little smile.

'One person should not know the other this thoroughly!' Elizabeth frowned. 'It’s disconcerting!'

He chuckled and she squeezed his hand.

'I may be able to help-' He said.

'Stop!' She halted. 'I didn’t tell you this to ask for financing!'

'I want to help.' He said patiently.

'You made me accept the most expensive Disney resort suite; I don't want more of your money!' She answered.

'Good. That solves it.' He tapped her hand and resumed walking. 'Graham has a studio by the Left Bank that he rarely visits. If I'm not mistaken it’s close to Rue des Écoles. I'll get you the keys.'

polaroid cupcake: movie interiors: Before Sunset
Elizabeth was torn between the urge to smile and the need to refuse his offer. But what if the studio was as romantic as the ones in French movies? An old building, no elevators, entrance through a hidden square...

She bit her lip. 'Would he accept what I'll get from the grant as payment? It won't be much.'

Darcy nodded. 'I’ll talk to him.'

'But if I find out you're paying a lot of cash behind my back, I'll kill you!' She pointed a finger at him. 'First I'll throw you in the Seine and then in the Thames!'

'Horrible death.' He pulled a face.

'Remember you're still on probation after the cake disaster!' She poked his upper arm with an angry face.

Darcy chuckled.

Her husband and sister had thrown her a surprise party that Darcy only heard about the next day when she sent him pictures captioning how very depressed with the 'it's your life' video homage she was. Darcy would have liked to be present but as he was neither invited nor included in the video, when Elizabeth had arrived at the Paris’ hotel she was handed his gift celebrating her fortieth birthday.

To humbly mark the date (as she had requested him not to), he had sent a small cake with a classy natural lilies bouquet on top and an atrocious '40' candle. The box was beautifully wrapped with a wired lilac bow and attached to it there was a cute small box with the handmade chandelier earrings Sarah had chosen for him to buy for Lizzy. The semi jewel was exquisite, the amethysts precious, the flowers marvelous and the cake tasty, but Elizabeth hated Darcy's gut with all her power.

'Wow. A studio at Rive Gauche!...' Elizabeth smiled from side to side. 'I won't let my mind wrap around it until it's real!'

'It’s yours, Lizzy.' Darcy said calmly.

‘Blub, blub, blub! Don't forget!' She raised her manicured index finger to him again and he chuckled. 'Listen, I saw in the paper today the debut a cool cemetery sculptures’ photo show at Le Grand Palais. I know it'll be crowded and all but it's my only chance to see it. Do you want to come?'

'Mmmm...' He pressed his lips in a thin line.

'Tomorrow we'll have the opera you bought and the next day I'll go home...' She insisted, her boobs close to his arm as much as her cute one shoulder top allowed.

'Fine.' He said mesmerized by her face close to his, her perfume invading his nostrils.

'Yay!' She squeaked. 'Let’s do it!'

And so this Fitzwilliam Darcy had now the pleasure of watching things in his personal life happen before his eyes, through the delicate perfumed hands of this hot, friendly, outgoing, welcoming Brazilian woman.


A dark museum is one of the most undermined places on Earth. Of course there's that movie franchise where the collection comes to life at night but during the museum's work hours, when there is a crowd visiting the many remarkable objects on display, that's when magical moments are wasted.

Darcy had always taken a dark museum for granted until the day he let Elizabeth drag him into one.

The photo show was arranged in a pitch black maze of high walls making the visitors literally walk through a darkened cemetery while admiring the many exquisite sculptures that adorned the most beautiful tombs in the world.

The topic itself would be enough to make Darcy walk miles away from the exhibit, but Elizabeth was ecstatic with it. And he had the pleasure of walking hand in hand with her from the first turn or else they would lose each other, always a step behind letting her guide him through the maze of sensations that overwhelmed his self-control.

One whispered comment here, an ironic retort there and all of a sudden Darcy and Elizabeth were surrounded by a thick sexual tension that could be physically felt by them both. His skin crawled when she stopped to admire a gigantic photo and leaned on his chest to have a better view.

He was unsure if she was attuned to him as he expected she was, even though she grew quiet and passed sluggishly from photo to photo. He would behave as a gentleman no matter what, it was unquestionable, but when she leaned on him again, he rested a hand on her waist. It felt natural.

From then on, his hand always found her waist when they stopped and sadly, when his whole arm finally wrapped around her, they bent a turn and were surprised by blinding white lights.

The last photo was from a sunny day meaning life vanquished death.

In Darcy’s case, his better judgment had almost been vanquished by the power of his feelings.

This story's release is close... Check the book's page for info.

“… Oh, this is how it starts
Lightining strikes the heart…”

Brighter than the sun – Colbie Caillat

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