by Lory Lilian
“You did not,” she responded as she again resisted a swoon.
“Must I?” he asked as his tender lips lowered towards hers. “Must I wait for your answer before kissing you?”
“No…there has been enough waiting—” she said, but her answer was sweetly crushed as their lips joined at last.
The taste she had long dreamed of was intoxicating, and she put her arms around his waist, seeking support against his chest. The heat of his body and the beat of his heart wrapped her in a storm of shivering warmth, and his gentle tenderness slowly became an urge to which she responded tentatively, shyly—astounded by the overwhelming senses that shattered her.
“I need to sit down,” she said.
“As do I,” he responded. Without releasing their embrace, they moved to sit on the couch.“I have so many things to tell you,” he continued, but his lips found hers, and words became useless.
Elizabeth leaned back on the couch, and her arms tightened around his neck. The tenderness of the kisses soon became eager passion. She did not know what to do but waited for him to teach her. His hands shyly caressed her until they found bare skin—shoulders, neck, arms. His tongue tasted her lips, and she moaned in surprise and delight; her own lips parted for him, astonished at the sensations that his taste aroused in her.
“I am afraid to believe you are truly here,” she moaned. “I have imagined this so many times…”
“If I had known, I would not have wasted a single moment of these last months. But I hesitated. I waited to be sure. I was still uncertain about whether your feelings and desires had changed. I was afraid I might misunderstand you once again—that I might mistake your friendship for something more—or worse, that you would accept my proposal only in gratitude. So, I waited like a fool…”
“But surely, you must have seen the truth eventually.”
“I did—that morning Bingley came upon us. I truly hated him at that moment.” He laughed, kissing her hands. “And then, I demanded myself to be patient and enjoy your company until the right moment should come. I thought there was no hurry. When the news came about Anne, I suspected it was my aunt’s scheme—and partially might have been—but Anne was truly ill.”
“I was heartbroken when you left. I was afraid you would marry your cousin, and I wondered how I could bear such grief.”
“‘Heartbroken’ would barely describe my despair when I left, and my last image of you was being arm in arm with Adam Godwin.”
“I know. I saw it in your pained expression. I wanted to tell you there was nothing to fear. You see, you doubted me too…”
“Never…well, yes, perhaps a little,” he admitted. “But all is well now.”
“All is well,” she repeated. “So…you told Papa that you wished to propose to me?”
“I had to; else, he would not have allowed me to see you alone at this hour. He took advantage of my agony, you know. He forced me to confess things I wished to keep private.”
“How so? I am very intrigued.”
“He asked—should one of his other daughters decide to elope with a scoundrel—whether I would pay his debts and purchase him a commission too.”
Elizabeth stared in disbelief. “He did not!”
”I am afraid he did. He took me completely by surprise as I was not aware he knew any details of that situation.”
“Neither my uncle nor I betrayed your secrecy when you insisted upon it. I strongly believe my family should know and express their gratitude for your generosity, but since you wished otherwise, we respected your desire. Papa suspected something and continually asked questions; in the end, I think he began to guess what he was not told. He is a smart man and knows how to discover what interests him.”
Darcy kissed her hands again. “He also can be rather cruel at times. His teasing borders on torture. I told him that I have enough trust in Miss Kitty and Miss Mary to hope such an incident would not occur.”
She laughed tearfully, and their foreheads touched. “I am deeply sorry for your torment. But you must be warned that I resemble my father in many ways.”
“I noticed that some time ago.”
“And you are still willing to bond yourself to me?”
“There is nothing in the world I want more, my dearest Elizabeth.”
“You are a brave man, Mr. Darcy,” she answered as another long, passionate kiss reunited them.
“And what should we do know?” she inquired breathlessly some time later.
“I shall hurry to Netherfield. Bingley must be restless and terrified.”
“‘Terrified’? Is that not too strong a word?”
Darcy brushed his fingers over her cheeks, her eyebrows, along her jaw, and down to her throat.
His voice sounded husky and severe. “Not at all. There are few things more terrifying than the night before you finally marry the woman you have loved and desired for so many months. I am eager to feel it myself.”
“I always thought the excitement and fear of marriage were the bride’s privilege,” Elizabeth said, blushing through her smile. “It seems I am wrong about many things.”
“We have time to correct all the wrongs now,” he responded, briefly claiming her lips again. Then he reluctantly withdrew and cupped her face in his strong palms.
“Would you agree not to tell your family anything this evening? I would like to allow Bingley and your sister to enjoy their wedding day in peace.”
“Of course…I confess I am in no hurry to tell anyone. What matters is that we know. It is enough for me. And yes, today and tomorrow are all about Jane and Charles.”
“Tomorrow afternoon I shall leave for London,” he continued.
She frowned. “Leave? What do you mean? Why?”
“I want to apply for a special license. I would like to marry as soon as you wish. Even a week is too long for me.”
“Oh…” She felt her face and neck burning, and he appeared concerned by her reaction.
“I do not want to hurry you…we shall do as you like. I can wait as long as necessary.”
She daringly placed a kiss on his cheek. “A special license is an excellent idea. And a week sounds reasonable.”
“Do you think your parents will approve?”
“My mother will surely approve anything you ask for; Papa will have to be persuaded, but that is my duty. I shall not expose you to his cruelty again so soon,” she joked.
“I must leave,” he repeated, kissing her hands, then her temples. “I shall see you tomorrow at the wedding, my love.”
“So—you plan to depart tomorrow? You cannot stay a day longer?”
“I could stay, but I shall not. I hope to take Bingley’s sisters to town as well. I strongly believe a newly wedded couple should not entertain guests on their wedding day. I plan to have no company during the first days of our marriage.”
Elizabeth averted her eyes from his dark gaze a moment then looked at him bravely.
“May it be as you plan, Mr. Darcy. There is only one thing I require before you leave.”
“What would that be?”
His genuine curiosity, combined with a slight concern, slowly turned into heartfelt delight as she responded.
“You must allow me to tell you how ardently I admire and love you.”
***
It was snowing steadily when Elizabeth returned to Longbourn for the wedding breakfast on the arm of her husband.
Though it was cold and windy, there was never more warmth in the house or in Elizabeth’s soul. A strange sorrow overwhelmed her at the thought of leaving her family that was almost as powerful as the felicity of starting a new life with the man she adored.
Their guests filled the house, and it was difficult to hold a reasonable conversation. But there was joy in every word and laugh.
All their friends in Meryton were there—only a fortnight after they celebrated the marriage of the eldest Miss Bennet.
Despite Darcy’s attempts, the wedding could not take place in a week, but in two. He returned from London with the license, his sister, and his cousin Colonel Fitzwilliam. As much as Darcy desired the company of his betrothed, there was rarely a moment at Longbourn that he did not have to bear Mrs. Bennet’s admiration and her constant attention. But he appeared to handle everything remarkably well—increasing Elizabeth’s amusement and gratitude.
For two weeks, the only distress appeared in letters that arrived from Lady Catherine and Mr. Collins. Darcy answered both in a manner that remained unknown to Elizabeth. Suffice to say, the result was the one desired, as no other communication was received from Kent.
Another reason for Elizabeth’s delight was the friendship that arose between Miss Darcy and her younger sisters. Despite the different temperament of the three girls, their disposition compensated, and harmony was born among them. Miss Darcy played at the piano with Mary and took strolls in the garden with Kitty. She shared her knowledge of books, art, and theatre with them—and enjoyed a good laugh at Kitty’s stories.
It was a pleasant, although not unexpected, surprise that Miss Darcy invited the two Miss Bennets to spent time with her in London. She had a house where she lived with her companion, Mrs. Annesley. Having the company of two young ladies her own age seemed an excellent idea, and Darcy heartily encouraged it.
Mrs. Bennet complained every day about the sadness of seeing all her daughters gone, then thanked the Lord for being allowed to finally have some peace and rest. Mr. Bennet spoke little, his face wearing a sadness that Elizabeth could not dispel.
Around noon—despite the bad weather—the newly wedded pair prepared to travel to London. No argument could convince Darcy to spend their wedding day and night at Netherfield. The colonel left to join his regiment, but Georgiana remained a couple more days to return to Town with Kitty, Mary, and the Gardiners.
“Please consider coming to spend Christmas with us in London,” Darcy insisted to Mr. and Mrs. Bennet. “Neither Elizabeth nor I shall be happy knowing you are alone.”
“I am not certain of our plans yet. I loathe travelling, especially in winter. And Darcy, since you have abducted my daughter from me, it is a little late to worry about my being alone,” Mr. Bennet replied in mocking reproach.
“Abduct your daughter?” Mrs. Bennet cried. “Mr. Bennet, what foolishness are you speaking? I hope Mr. Darcy is wise enough to ignore you.”
Jane spoke up. “Do not worry; we shall travel to Town too, so I am sure we can convince them to join us. I know Papa will miss Lizzy—as we all shall.”
“As I shall miss you all, but please be content with my happiness. Can you do that, Papa?” Elizabeth inquired, embracing her parents.
“Oh—just go, Lizzy. You make me cry, and Lady Lucas will gladly imagine something bad has happened,” Mrs. Bennet said, wiping her tears. “You are such a tease, child. You like to torture my nerves—just like your father!”
“Very well, Mama. But I shall expect all of you for Christmas.”
“I am not sure whether we shall come for Christmas,” Mr. Bennet uttered. “But be assured I shall visit when you least expect me.”
Chapter 13
The carriage moved slowly, followed by joyful voices and waving hands. The horses stepped through the snowy curtain, and the crowd behind them faded from sight.
Elizabeth lifted her eyes to her husband; their eyes met and held with restrained passion. He stole a kiss then stroked her cheek.
“Are you cold?”
“No—I am fine…”
“I see a trace of sadness in your eyes, my dearest.”
“It is not sadness—only regret. The further we go, the more I feel I shall miss my family dearly. My entire childhood and youth is here, and I have to part from them.”
“Because of me…” he said.
“For you, my love. That makes the regrets easier to overcome.”
“We shall visit Longbourn whenever you want—just as they will always be welcome in our homes.”
“It is a sweet comfort to know that. But for now, I am content to be alone with you.”
“No more than I am. I have been waiting and dreaming of this for more than a year now. For so long, I feared it would never be real.”
“And yet—here we are.”
“Yes, here we are. You, in my arms,” he whispered.
With astonishment, she felt herself lifted and placed on his lap. A small cry escaped; then she laughed, flustered and embarrassed by the pleasure she felt. She leaned against his chest, her hands around his neck, and she shivered.
“You are cold; I can feel it. I should not have insisted on travelling in this weather. I have been selfish once again.”
She decidedly silenced him. “I forbid you to ever call yourself selfish again, husband. I am not cold at all. If I shiver, it is because of you and for you. You should stop worrying about me; I am fine—better than I have ever been, better than I dreamed I could be. You must keep that in mind.”
“I would by no means suspend any pleasure of yours, Mrs. Darcy,” he replied huskily.
His embrace sheltered her, and the kiss that she knew—and hoped—would come, satisfied her desire. His tongue tasted her mouth, stirring her senses and defeating any shyness.
Only at that instant did Elizabeth realise how much she missed his company and longed for his closeness, his scent, his taste.
They had little time for tender interludes during their short engagement, so she was still illiterate in matters of intimacy. With a house full of guests and their time split between Netherfield and Longbourn, they were always in others’ company but longing for each other.
Finally alone and tightly embraced in the carriage, as they struggled to keep themselves warm, they fought the fire that slowly grew within them. The journey to London became longer and more difficult than expected.
Clouds darkened the sky and night defeated the day long before they reached their destination.
Elizabeth completely lost track of time, but he did not. The caresses that made her dizzy ceased, and she could not suppress her regret.
He noticed and smiled. “We are almost home, my love. We must prepare to meet the staff. Everybody is eagerly waiting for you.”
“Oh…you are right, of course.”
She cared little about meeting anyone, but she realised the importance of complying with the mistress’s duties from her first step into the house. She would be observed, judged, and compared to Lady Anne Darcy. Expectations of her would be enormous, and it was her responsibility to fulfil them. She owed him as much and prayed she would not disappoint him.
The Town’s streets—desolate, frozen—reflected the occasional street lamp.
“It is beautiful, is it not?” he asked. She rested her head on his shoulder, nodding, looking outside absently, her hands resting in his.
When the carriage finally stopped, Elizabeth could see little in the darkness, but she knew—she felt—the journey was over.
And if she had any doubts, his beatific smile was the most reliable proof.
“Welcome home, Mrs. Darcy.”
***
From the splendour of her apartment, Elizabeth looked outside the window. The blizzard was so strong that it seemed to bring the coldness inside. The hot bath, the maid’s caring help, the burning candles and fire, the exquisite furniture, and the soft sheets—all seemed so real yet so close to a dream—just as were the sound of his steps from the other chamber and his low voice asking something of his valet.
She wondered how long he would wait before joining her. She was ashamed by her eagerness, yet all her thoughts were filled with their image—toget
her in that inviting bed. Would he come to her, or take her to his chamber? Had anyone else slept in that apartment in the last years? Did his apartment ever host another woman?
She shook off such tormenting musings, moved closer to the window, paced the room towards the adjoining doors and then back again to the window.
She did not hear the door opening, but felt his presence and slowly turned. His gaze was so intense that her entire body trembled.
He stepped towards her as her own feet brought her closer. In the middle of the room, they met, and their hands entwined.
Mesmerized, she watched him playing with the hair falling loosely on her shoulders while his mouth captured hers. His hand glided down, caressing her neck and her shoulders, then stopped around her waist. She was wearing her nightgown and robe, but all those garments were insufficient to protect her skin from his burning touch.
“Your beauty takes my breath away, Elizabeth,” he murmured.
She felt powerless, but his arms seemed to know that, as they carried her to the bed.
Her body craved his touch, and she could not bear a single moment without his warmth.
She knew he desired her just as much, and she had the proof when his kisses became more demanding and his lips more hungry.
“Please let me know if I am too hasty…if you wish me to stop. I do not want to frighten you.” He struggled to speak while he tasted her skin with a hunger that overwhelmed her.
“Please stop…stop worrying about me. Why would you think I am frightened? Is that what my face tells you?” she teased him.
“No…your face tells me nothing of your fear but of your passion, your love, your devotion. Still, I have to learn to read you better, to be certain of your feelings…”
“As do I…I have even more things to learn from you. But never worry about how I feel when I am with you, Fitzwilliam.”
She tentatively returned the caresses she so much enjoyed, exploring his throat with small kisses. He bore it for a little while with a groan of pleasure then pushed her back gently and leaned over her. His eyes trapping hers, he lowered the gown from her shoulders, each spot of her skin shivering under his astounding exploration.
