Elizabeth slowly advanced, coming to stand just inches from him, her dark eyes sparkling with wit and intelligence… and more than a hint of passion. Darcy, breathing in her faint lavender scent, raised his hands to caress the curve of her neck and the skin of her shoulders.
Elizabeth closed her eyes, entreating him to lead her to a place where all else would soon fade into oblivion, where nothing mattered but their love.
Without uttering a word, Darcy brushed his lips against hers. He repeated the gesture, gradually deepening his kisses as she swayed before him. His hands continued to travel along the lines of her shoulders before wandering lower, down her arms to her hands, where he entwined his fingers with hers, wrapped his arms around her waist, and drew her body against his as they continued to kiss in a sweet, unhurried fashion.
When at last they stopped, they simply held each other. Darcy stroked her back with deliberate slowness, while Elizabeth caressed his hips beneath his tailcoat. Not wanting to start something he knew they could not likely continue, Darcy released her to move toward his desk. “I have something for you,” he said in a low voice. “I had hoped to present it to you this afternoon, but I did not have the pleasure of a moment alone with you.” He removed a small box from a locked drawer and handed it to Elizabeth.
Elizabeth smiled at him, touched that he would think to get her a gift, and removed the lid. Her breath caught as she beheld a beautiful ring set with a single, creamy pearl. It was large in diameter but by no means ostentatious, surrounded by many shimmering diamonds, which, though considerably smaller in comparison to the pearl, were exquisite all the same. “Fitzwilliam, it is truly lovely. Never in my life have I owned anything so beautiful.”
Darcy simply gazed at her, the love he felt for her clearly written on his face. “Nor have I.”
Elizabeth blushed, knowing full well he was not referring to the ring. “Thank you,” she said, “for this exquisite ring, as well as your generous compliment. I do not think I deserve either, but I believe I am not in a position to argue with the master of Pemberley. As your sister kindly informed me this afternoon, sir, it appears you are never wrong.”
Darcy took the ring from her and slipped it onto her finger. “No,” he said as he raised her hand to his lips, “at least not on this matter. I will brook no opposition, Elizabeth. Though it was my mother’s favorite, and her mother’s before her, in the last few days it has become simply another ring to me, the same as any other piece of jewelry. It is you who is exquisite. I have always thought so, and so I shall until the end of my life.”
Their eyes held for several long moments, speaking volumes without any words being uttered. Elizabeth finally broke the silence, her need evident in the quiet urgency of her voice. “Do you believe our chances of discovery here within the next several hours to be very great, Fitzwilliam?”
He only looked at her, surprised by the implication of her words.
“Will a servant intrude, do you think, if we were to renew our intimacy with one another?”
“Here?”
Elizabeth nodded.
Darcy slowly shook his head, his mouth feeling very much as though he had been chewing cotton. “No. I am often here late into the night going over matters of business. The servants know not to disturb me at such a late hour.”
Elizabeth gave him an amorous smile and placed her hands upon his shoulders.
Darcy swallowed. “And what of your maid?” he asked hoarsely. “Will she not be waiting to assist you before you retire?”
Trailing her fingers along the edge of his cravat, she said, “That is one advantage of growing up in a house with four sisters. Having but one maid to share between us, I have grown quite accustomed to seeing to myself. In fact, I have long since dismissed Sonia for the night; however, if I later find I am in any particular need of assistance, then perhaps you can see to me personally, sir.”
She kissed him then, a long, sensuous kiss that succeeded in melting away any remaining fragments of his reserve. After a moment, Elizabeth backed away from him, a mischievous smile playing upon her lips. Darcy watched, mesmerized, as she made her way to the door, her hips swaying, and turned the key in the lock. She then moved toward the fire and, reclining fully upon the large leather sofa before it, beckoned to him. “Will you not come to me, Fitzwilliam?” she asked, her voice soft and inviting. “Will you not make me yours once again?”
Darcy watched as Elizabeth slowly ran her hand from the elegant curve of her neck down to her full breasts. An inarticulate sound rose in the back of his throat.
“Come to me, my love,” she whispered.
Who was he to argue?
Chapter 14
Mrs. Bennet’s voice had increased to at least ten times her usual volume as she eagerly informed Jane and Elizabeth of her plans for the day. Much to his consternation, Darcy heard her even before he reached the bottom of the staircase in the main hall. Slowing his pace, he struggled against an inclination to seek refuge in his study. Perhaps, I could say I have a pressing matter of business to attend to? Then he thought of Elizabeth and sighed.
They had parted not five hours earlier, after passing some of the most tender moments of his life in front of the fire in his study. As he recalled those blissful hours with fondness, the need to gaze once more upon her face became overwhelming. Drawing himself up to his full height, Darcy steeled himself against his future mother-in-law’s boisterous effusions and forced his legs to continue toward his original destination. After crossing the main hall and taking several deep breaths to subdue his annoyance, he nodded to the servant to open the door to the dining room. In the next moment, he entered and took his place at the head of the table. Another servant approached and began serving his breakfast.
“Do not be ridiculous, Lizzy,” Mrs. Bennet proclaimed. “Of course, you will need new gowns. Six at the very least, and most likely more. Since you have been clever enough to catch yourself such a rich husband, I am sure your father will not mind the expense one bit, for he must realize that your marrying Mr. Darcy will certainly throw your sisters into the paths of other rich men.”
Darcy took several swallows of tea in order to dislodge the toast he had choked on, then glanced sharply at Mrs. Bennet before allowing his gaze to dart toward Elizabeth. It was precisely as he had suspected—she appeared to be in misery.
Her cheeks blazing with mortification, Elizabeth muttered, “Mama, please,” as she wished for the floor beneath her to open up and swallow her whole. Though she did not dare look at Darcy, she could feel the intensity of his penetrating eyes upon her. He must be disgusted by my mother’s lack of decorum! she thought, feeling no small amount of shame. For her to say such a thing in front of him—and while she is a guest in his own home, no less! Without a doubt, Fitzwilliam must be questioning the soundness of his decision to marry me, for how could he possibly believe the daughter of such a silly and vulgar woman could ever make a suitable mistress for Pemberley or a proper wife for him? I would not blame him in the least if he is, even at this very minute, regretting his rash decision!
Seeing Elizabeth in distress pained Darcy, and he found himself wanting to do nothing more than offer her comfort, to go to her and wrap her in his embrace, but he knew he could not. He looked instead to Mr. Bennet, who, Darcy noted with a touch of irritation, was observing them all with an expression of repressed amusement. Seeing he was to have no ally in his future father-in-law, Darcy cleared his throat and said as amiably as he could, “I take it then, ladies, that a visit to the modiste is the order of the day?”