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100 Ways to Love Darcy: A Pride and Prejudice Variation

100 Ways to Love Darcy: A Pride and Prejudice Variation

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100 Ways to Love Darcy: A Pride and Prejudice Variation

4/5 (3 ratings)
101 pages
1 hour
Sep 3, 2019


Every bride is nervous on her wedding night…isn't she?

Elizabeth and Darcy are married at last! But the young bride can't help but wonder what, exactly, is in store for her in the marriage bed.

According to her mother and Jane, not anything good. The more experienced women order Lizzy to close her eyes, count to 100 (or 50, in Bingley's case) and it will be over.

Mr. Darcy is horrified when he discovers this advice. He vows to teach Elizabeth a new way to count…

Unfortunately, it feels as if the universe is conspiring against them. A broken axle, an awful inn, thunderstorms and bickering valets and maids all interrupt the couple. Will Darcy ever be able to truly show Elizabeth how beautiful the union between a man and woman can be?

Though facing so many disasters doeshave its advantages. Elizabeth slowly opens to Darcy, until she is craving their union as much as he does.

But how many post-wedding disasters can one couple stand? Our dear couple is starting to lose count!

Hold on to your horses (literally, there's a huge thunderstorm ahead), because this road to true love isn't running smoothly! Can a sensual variation also be comic and sweet? Certainly! 100 Ways to Love Darcy is both a steamy and sweet Pride and Prejudice variation. In this intimate JAFF variation, Elizabeth and Darcy face countless mishaps on their way to a happily-ever-after. But Darcy is determined to show Elizabeth that his love is infinite. Enjoy the ride!

Sep 3, 2019

About the author

By day, Caitlin Marie Carrington juggles motherhood, her editing job, one surly cat and all the adorable drama that life with small children (and one giant husband) entails.  By night, she imagines new adventures for our dear couple, Elizabeth and Darcy.  Visit her at caitlinmariecarrington.com.

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100 Ways to Love Darcy - Caitlin Marie Carrington


Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy had often imagined what it would be like to be married. His wife, of course, would have an excellent mind and genteel manners, and be endlessly patient, kind, and charitable to those less fortunate.

In other words, his ideal bride would be practically perfect, as befitting anyone who would earn the name of Darcy.

A small smile tugged at his lips as he watched his actual bride enter the church doorway. How foolish he had been! A complete and utter simpleton. He had expected to marry the perfect woman. Thankfully, his intended had taught him that there was no perfect woman, just as there was no perfect man...not even one named Darcy.

Thankfully, although no human was perfect—his wife was perfect for him.

Elizabeth Bennet put her hand on her father’s arm, then turned her sparkling brown eyes toward the altar. As their gazes met, Darcy at once felt a thunderstorm inside his chest, a fierce wind in his lungs, and a rather surprising earthquake beneath his trousers.

How glad he was that he was not marrying his former idea of the perfect wife. Instead, he’d met and somehow won a real woman, with all her flaws but all her deep strengths as well. Elizabeth Bennet constantly surprised him, challenged him, and made him a better man.

He could not wait to give her his name. He could not wait to take her home to Pemberley. And he could not wait to make her his wife, in every delicious way he could imagine.

Darcy had kissed Elizabeth for the first time three days before. He had surprised her on one of her early morning walks in the woods near Longbourn. When he had stepped out from the misty woods, she had gasped so very prettily, and then a huge smile—exactly like the one she wore now, as she approached the altar—had graced her pretty face.

Standing there in the woods, he had been overcome by his emotions, which was decidedly not a Darcy-like thing to do. He’d been so overwhelmed, in fact, that even as Elizabeth had spoken her greetings, he had grasped her shoulders and leaned down and pressed his lips firmly against hers. Elizabeth had gasped, a quick, tickling inhalation of breath against his lips, despite the fact that he had kept the kiss chaste, his lips barely touching hers, his hands doing nothing more than softly caressing her cloak…

He had not been able to stop thinking about it since.

And now his bride was at the altar, smiling up at him. He should not think of how terribly he wanted to remove her delicate dress, how he could not wait to see exactly how long her hair was and how it looked spread out upon his pillows. But it was terribly challenging to turn and follow the reverend’s words. All he could imagine was finally getting Elizabeth alone and in his chambers…

Darcy idly scanned the church, seeing Elizabeth’s mother, Mrs. Bennet, weeping with happiness, and then his Aunt Catherine, stone-faced and staring at him.

Well, that did the trick.

He no longer imagined his wedding night at all.

Darcy turned and faced his bride, and in a blur of love and emotion the vows were exchanged, the rings given, and then his wife’s hand was on his arm and they were exiting the church as all of Meryton seemed to crowd around them, shouting and clapping.

At the wedding breakfast, Darcy was grateful once again that his wife—his wife! what a joy to say—was so adept at social discourse. Elizabeth was somehow able to speak with every happy friend and neighbor who approached them. He, for his part, was more amiable than usual. And Darcy felt he didn’t need to try so very hard. For once, his smiles came easily and he actually enjoyed most of the conversation in which he partook.

But his eyes kept trailing to his young wife’s neck. Her hair was held up with pins and pearls and elaborate braids, but he could not keep his gaze from the nape of her neck, where one loose curl had come free, trailing down her pale, soft flesh.

Or at least, he imagined it was soft. When he leaned toward her to ask how she felt, for she was not eating much, he inhaled the sweet scent of lavender and flowers. Elizabeth blushed as she turned and discovered him so close to her. Darcy was astounded to feel his manhood growing, simply from being this close to her.

God, he needed to get control of himself. But even as his hand lightly brushed down her back, his mind went to wild places. It was because he had not been with a woman in years, he was certain. Or was this love? Would he always feel this incredible pull, this undeniable attraction, to his beautiful Elizabeth?

Darcy himself was no innocent. Young men of a certain stature, and a certain age, took it upon themselves to complete their own illicit educations. As a younger man, many of his friends had spent nights in London brothels or gaming hells, learning things their masters at school would never dare teach.

Darcy had done the same years ago, but unlike some of his more boisterous friends, he’d quickly tired of such pleasures. It had always been a momentary happiness, and afterwards he’d always felt deflated, in more ways than one. The young woman who’d been so eager to touch and kiss him moments before would turn away, pulling her dress on and checking her hair. Worse, as he had grown older, were the women who’d pursued him ardently but only wanted one thing…

His enormous…funds.

Darcy wanted what his parents had enjoyed: true love. Georgiana always told him that he must have remembered their mother and father as happier and more in love than was possible, especially in a marriage among the Ton. But Georgiana had been so young when his parents passed, she could not remember how his father would come in from the riding and dance his mother around the dining room. Or how they would whisper and laugh together as they slowly walked up the stairs after an evening’s ball. No, his parents had truly been in love. And all his life, it had been his secret and impossible hope that, someday, he too might marry his one, true love.

And now he had. He turned and smiled at Elizabeth, daring to slowly caress the nape of her neck. God, the softness of her skin. The gentle tickle of her hair.

His Lizzy smiled but paled, then turned away. Ah! I see my cousin Mr. Collins and Charlotte. I must go thank them for traveling all the way here.

And then she was gone. Darcy frowned, momentarily unnerved. Elizabeth typically did everything in the world she could to avoid a conversation with her cousin. He watched as the new Mrs. Darcy forced herself to smile as Mr. Collins began expounding on something, the man’s brow sweaty and his hands spread wide as he motioned violently. He gestured so

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