Mrs. Reynolds had ordered to have small trays of eatables placed in nearly every room of the manor so the Mistress could nibble whenever she felt the urge. Lizzy had not actually been ill since the day her memory was restored, so Darcy did not fret overly. Inevitably, she managed to eat enough, and the medical book assured him that all she was experiencing thus far was perfectly normal.
Thankfully, her extreme moodiness had disappeared. Mornings were not her best time; therefore, their romantic interludes had ceased for what he hoped was a temporary duration. Not that he could complain in that quarter as overall her amorousness was unaltered, if not slightly increased. He had quickly reorganized his daily schedule to coordinate with her. Now he rose while she slept, went riding, or worked in the stables or at his desk for several hours before joining her for breakfast. For the bulk of the day he attended to business throughout the estate, rarely coming home for lunch, but returning mid-afternoon to convene for tea, which generally led to a pleasurable liaison before dinner.
He smiled with supreme contentment. No, Mr. Darcy had absolutely no cause for woe regarding the physical expression of their love. He never had. As previously stated, barely had her father given them his blessing when Darcy discovered, to his mingled humiliation and gratification, the sensual response they evoked in each other. Lost in delicious reverie, he lightly ran fingertips over her belly and hips, dipping into her navel, unaware that she had roused and was observing him.
“Have you traveled off to Mars or Jupiter, beloved, or somewhere closer by?”
He started at her voice and then laughed. “I no longer have the yearning to fly to the outer reaches of the heavens, dearest. Heaven is to be found here.” He leaned over, kissed her stomach where he imagined their child rested, and then stretched out, gathering her into his arms. He kissed her forehead. “Do you feel well?”
“Yes, thank you. In fact, the remaining muffin smothered in honey is calling to me.”
“Perhaps you should rethink that. Honey on the carrots made you retch.”
“That was carrots, not a muffin, and quite some time ago. These matters change with the wind!”
He chuckled, lifting up and reaching into the basket to retrieve the desired treat. Pulling off small bites, he fed her, watching carefully for a negative response.
“What were you musing when I woke? You truly appeared a million miles away.”
“Not so far as all that. More accurately some one-hundred-fifty miles, as I was revisiting our previous reminiscence of first kisses upon the occasion of your accepting my proposal. I have always been profoundly gratefully that we stood on the only side of Longbourn without windows. I am certain your father would have withdrawn his consent at the least, if not strangled me on the spot.”
Lizzy laughed. “No fear of that, William, because he would have keeled over with a heart seizure first at the sight of his innocent daughter behaving so wantonly.”
Darcy laughed but flushed brightly, the entire episode still a cause of amusement and embarrassment for him.
Darcy waits in the courtyard and paces… and paces… and paces.
The interview with her father went well, sort of. Mr. Bennet evaded final consent, pending hearing Elizabeth’s opinion. Knowing how she feels for him, as stunning as that revelation was, he should not be anxious. Yet he is. What he had not previously comprehended was the deep love Mr. Bennet held for his second daughter. Darcy had erringly regarded Mr. Bennet as rather foolish, lazy, and uninvolved as a parent.
Yet, within minutes of entering the study, Mr. Bennet put him on the defensive and displayed a keen intellect and unswerving devotion to Elizabeth. Realizing that this actually placed them on equal footing, Darcy altered his usual aloof, commanding approach. Instead, he relinquished all pride and bared his soul to the older gentleman. Mr. Bennet listened, nodding occasionally, but displayed little emotion. Then he calmly dismissed Mr. Darcy, giving no answer, and requested to speak with Elizabeth alone.
Her smile and warm pose as she entered her father’s study did hearten him, but he could not erase the echo of Mr. Bennet’s initial claim, blurted in his surprise, that Lizzy had previously asserted her hatred of Mr. Darcy. Thinking of those words made him flinch anew and pale in terror. Air and space were essential to quiet his irregular heartbeat and frayed nerves.
So now, he paces. She is taking so long! What if Mr. Bennet says no? What if he convinces Elizabeth that Mr. Darcy is unworthy of her, which he is? What if she tells him about Rosings? What if the spell of English mist over a sun-kissed moor is now broken and she realizes she does not love him? What if she does not even like him? What if… what if… what if?
Oblivious of all but his own misery, he abruptly hears a sharp giggle and glances up to see four pairs of eyes staring at him from the house. Oh, this is too much! Blushing furiously, he keeps walking past the edge of the house to the small garden beyond. He roughly picks a bloom and sinks onto the stone bench, fidgeting until the poor flower is mutilated.
Lizzy kisses her father’s forehead, whispers a heartfelt thank you, and sprints from the room. She heads toward the parlor, logically deducing he would be there under barrage by her mother. Only imagining what horrors her family is subjecting the poor man to, she dashes in, pulling up short when her rapid scan of the room comes up empty of her betrothed.
“What have you done to him?” she blurts, all four of them pivoting toward her.
“Oh, Lizzy! How wonderful this is! Mr. Darcy! You have saved us all!” Mrs. Bennet is all atwitter, clutching her hand and gasping. Not wasting time, Lizzy glances to Jane, who smiles serenely and inclines her head toward the east garden.
Sprinting again, barely registering her mother’s continued praise of her conquest, she flies down the steps, following the recently well-trod path to the garden. She slows only when she sees him. He sits on the bench, hunched over with his elbows on his knees, playing with something in his fingers. Her heart literally skips several beats and butterflies dance in her stomach merely at the sight of him.
He looks up, lurching so rapidly to his feet that she thinks he is attempting to leap to her, but he simply stands there staring at her face. The moment stretches as her smile widens.
“It is official. I am all yours.”
The expressions crossing his countenance would be vastly humorous if she did not feel his turmoil. She laughs gaily as they swiftly reduce the gap between them, eventually standing less than a foot apart. He envelops her petite hands with a steadfast grip, face jubilant and awash with liberation. He places her enfolded hands against his throbbing heart and settles his forehead on hers, releasing a mighty sigh.
As delightful as the sensations are, she cannot prevent a giggle escaping. He pulls away a fraction and smiles at her blissful face. “Are you laughing at me?”
“Only a little. Did my frightening father scare you, Mr. Darcy?”
“He can be rather intimidating when he wishes it, Miss Elizabeth, and as he held my entire future happiness in his hands, I am not ashamed to confess being overcome with tremendous fear.”
“I shall have to tell him. I doubt my father has frightened anyone in his entire life! He will be amused.”
“How pleased I am to be a fount of amusement for the Bennet household. I believe I have also adequately supplied the daily portion of entertainment for your mother and sisters.”
She bursts out laughing. “Poor William! Mr. Darcy, who hates to be teased, has received his allotment today.”
Releasing one hand to finger the loose strands of hair away from her eyes and smiling unabashedly, he replies, “I suppose I should be chagrined, but I find that teasing does not annoy me as much as it once did. Levity appears to have entered my existence along with you, dear Elizabeth, and it heals me.”