Apparently, by the back passage.

Mr. Darcy decided that he was no longer comfortable about the way things were progressing. The Bennets' were of inferior stock and yet his dearest friend and host was besotted with their eldest daughter, Jane; he himself was getting a pain in the neck from looking up at Elizabeth's high moral stance on everything and now he had learned that his cousin, Mr. Collins, was walking out with that rather laddish Mistress Mary. Walking her out to the woods with the priggish Mistress Elizabeth as chaperone, and yet unnaturally high pitched shrieks were heard coming from that vicinity whenever they did so. How could this be? Darcy's curiosity was aroused. He therefore dispatched one of the stable boys to spy on the trio on the occasion of their next arboreal ramble.

The report he received back confused him greatly. Amidst a clump of wild rhododendron bushes, the stable boy had witnessed the Reverend Mr. Collins noisily sodomising Mistress Mary whilst their chaperone, Mistress Elizabeth had sat close by reading Mary's copy of a work by the Marquis de Sade with wide eyed interest. So, morally high and mighty Elizabeth Bennett was not so high and mighty after all. In fact, she was sinking fast in his in his estimation of her virtues though his appreciation of her manipulative vices was now soaring immeasurably.

Standing in the corner of the room, nervously fidgeting with the cap in his hands, the stable boy waited to be dismissed. Indeed, what he had witnessed in the woods had so unnerved him that he doubted he would ever be a very stable boy again. What had he seen? A man and two women had gone into the woods where the man had then pushed his erect cock up one lady's bottom and made her scream while the other lady had read a book. The weired thing was, the screaming woman seemed grateful for the pain the man had inflicted on her afterwards. She'd even kissed him on what must have been a very shitty smelling cock. At this precise moment, the lad felt profoundly grateful for his poverty. Clearly, having money made you do mad things! Mr. Darcy had turned away, lost in his own thoughts; all the stable lad could do now was wait until someone in authority told him to go.

Meanwhile, Fitzwilliam Darcy pondered thus: So, Elizabeth Bennet's high moral stance was all a sham. At heart, she was both a hedonist and a pragmatist; doing a whatever it took to make her own way through life in as sensually a pleasurable way as possible. He saw his own conduct reflected in hers and wondered if she enjoyed the same incestuous delights with her sisters as he did with his own. Considering what he had just heard about her behaviour in the woods, he found he could no longer doubt that this must be a distinct possibility. He found the thought mentally stimulating and sexually arousing. In his fast unravelling mind, he pictured the entire Bennet family, naked, in bed together and indulging in every mother-daughter, father-daughter, sister-sister sexual pervertion humanly possible when everybody seems to be piled up on top of everyone else. The slapping sound of flesh on flesh echoed in his brain and he was sure he felt the heat given off by that vision of pinky-white pile of writhing family flesh fornicating in his brain. He then caught a glimpse of his cousin's face amongst all the entwined limbs, heaving bosoms and vigorously lapping tongues. It was a flushed face but one wearing an expression of utter bliss as his hands on the back of Mr. Bennet's head **** the older man's gagging mouth to take in every centimetre of his ready to explode swollen penis. Suddenly, Fitzwilliam Darcy felt a raging jealousy welling up inside him along with his need to ejaculate. Why wasn't he in his vision? His own imagination had conjured up this sexy scenario which had swiftly brought him to full physical arousal and yet had totally failed to put him in the picture. This was intolerable! These mental images swiftly rendered him incapable of controlling the lust burning inside of him. A lust which was now demanding urgent release in the only way possible for a gentleman of good breeding to go about facilitating such release. Therefore, in a time honoured tradition so treasured by the English landed gentry of the day, Fitzwilliam Darcy forcibly **** the stable boy.