Page 42 of He Taught Me to Hope (Darcy and the Young Knight’s Quest #1)
The following days and nights at Pemberley were filled with harmonious accord.
Elizabeth had ample opportunity to enjoy Pemberley at her leisure.
Darcy and Georgiana made sure of that. Both devoted as much time and attention to Elizabeth’s young son, as did she.
They were becoming a family. The prospect of their newly formed relationship ending—of Elizabeth yielding to the threat of censure from both their families and even society and denying herself, denying them all the happiness they richly deserved—was too much to fathom.
One morning whilst Darcy was in the stable yard with Ben, teaching him the finer points of horsemanship, Georgiana accompanied Elizabeth on her walk. Not usually an early riser, Georgiana was on a mission.
“Though I am not yet out in society and thereby not expected to discern such things, it is clear to me that my brother cares deeply for you and your son. Have you any affectionate regard for him?”
Elizabeth often wondered what the young lady suspected of the nature of Elizabeth’s association with her older brother, although she would never broach the subject. “Georgiana, there are certain things one does not discuss with a prospective suitor’s younger sibling by ten years.”
Not to be discouraged, Georgiana persisted. “Ah, so you do consider my brother a suitor. I cannot imagine he has asked for your hand in marriage, for what woman would reject him? On the other hand, realising the way he feels, I cannot envision what is keeping him from offering for you.”
As Elizabeth had supposed, Darcy had not discussed the circumstances of their past with his sister. “Georgiana, I shall not discuss such matters with you. ”
“Why will you not, Elizabeth? Is your reluctance merely a result of the difference in our ages?”
“Our age difference is a consideration, of course. The other matter has to do with the history between your brother and me, matters which neither of us would care to talk about with others, I am sure.”
“If you insist, then I shall not pry. However, I ask one thing. When my brother offers his hand in marriage, will you please say yes?”
“At times, you are as incorrigible as Ben!” Elizabeth exclaimed to the younger woman.
“Indeed, I shall consider that a compliment, for Ben is wise beyond his years.” Georgiana and Elizabeth paused and embraced in an unspoken truce before resuming their stroll.
After dinner, neither of the Darcys had seemed much in the mood for company. Darcy parted with the ladies following a single exhibition by his sister on the pianoforte. Soon afterwards, Georgiana pardoned herself from Elizabeth’s company as well, with the excuse of wanting to retire early.
Elizabeth, however, had no wish for an early end to the evening.
Furthermore, she had no wish to spend the evening by herself.
She wanted to spend time alone with Darcy, for they had rarely done so since their arrival at Pemberley.
She found him on one of Pemberley’s many balconies, one overlooking a small, glistening pond.
She approached him from behind. “Are you wishing on a star, Mr. Darcy?” Elizabeth asked.
Darcy was not expecting company, as the surprised look on his face attested.
A further testament was the casual state of his attire.
Having discarded his dinner jacket and vest, he was dressed solely in a shirt hanging loosely from his breeches.
The bright moon and the brilliant stars above conspired to cast a perfect glow on Darcy’s profile.
He was such a pleasure to behold—broad chest, long legs, taut muscular thighs, and tight leather boots hugging his calves as if painted in place.
Turning to face her, he said, “Indeed. It seems my wish has been granted, for here you are.” Darcy extended a welcoming hand, which Elizabeth graciously accepted. He then raised her hand and brushed his lips unhurriedly against it in a lingering kiss.
“Pray tell, is this a favourite pastime of yours?” Elizabeth asked in reference to his stargazing.
“If you are referring to this,” Darcy turned her hand upward and kissed her palm gently, “I should say so.”
“Mr. Darcy, you are a shameless flirt,” Elizabeth teased as she withdrew her hand.
“I remind you, it is only with you that I behave this way. You, woman, have bewitched me.”
Elizabeth eased towards the edge of the balcony and placed her hands thereupon. She looked to the stars. Darcy joined her. Standing but a few feet apart, he too took up watch.
“Is gazing at the stars a favourite pastime of yours?”
“Not since I was a child, I am afraid. Even then, I could identify but a few constellations.”
“Allow me to guess, Ursa Major and Ursa Minor.”
“How ever did you surmise that, Mr. Darcy?” Elizabeth asked, allowing his teasing without taking offence.
“I suppose it to be part of one’s childhood teachings. What of the others: Orion, Canis Major, Canis Minor, Perseus, and Taurus, just to name a few?”
“I am afraid my teachings were lacking in that regard,” she confessed as she resumed her study of the heavens.
“Allow me to make up for any deficits,” he whispered.
By then, any response other than yes on Elizabeth’s part would have proved disadvantageous.
She stood captured in his embrace. With one hand resting on her waist, Darcy’s other hand slowly guided her hand across the night’s sky.
In no hurry, he traced the path of the stars forming the various constellations, one after the other, whispering the names of each softly in her ear .
Lost in the moment, Elizabeth remained silent throughout as she nestled in his arms. She could not imagine a better moment; the sheer delight of his arm freely resting along her waist, the warmth of his breath tracing softly along her neck, and his hands gently touching hers.
As much as it was a pleasure for Elizabeth to be ensconced in Darcy’s embrace, and as much as she relished the intoxicating effects of the excitement engendered by his tender, arousing voice, their intimacy was a torment to Darcy’s sensibilities; painfully aching, sweet, torture.
Darcy unhurriedly relinquished his impassioned hold, though he could not bring himself to let go of her hand.
“Elizabeth, I have but one wish to voice before we part for the evening … surely you must know what it is. My greatest wish is that you will marry me, that I shall soon be a husband to you and a father to Ben. Please do me the honour of accepting my hand.”
After what seemed an eternity in his mind but was merely a few seconds, Elizabeth raised Darcy’s hand and brushed a light kiss across his knuckles. “Wish granted,” she whispered.
“Yes?” Darcy asked. He had waited long. He needed to hear her speak the word.
“A thousand times, yes!” Elizabeth exclaimed. Her eyes sparkled with unshed tears of joy. A bright smile graced her lovely face. “It seems you were not the only one who used the night’s stars to their greatest advantage this evening.”
“Truly, Elizabeth?”
“Indeed, it has been my greatest wish, as well, that you would ask me again. I was beginning to think you might not, you know. However, I can by no means fault you in taking so long. I needed time to put my recent past in its proper perspective, and you allowed just that. How shall I ever thank you enough for your patience?”
“My wish did include we should be married soon,” Darcy reminded.
“Although not too soon, for we must observe all the requisite decorum.” Elizabeth’s last sentiment was met with a furrowed brow, hinting at a measure of dismay.
Elizabeth placed her hand lovingly on his cheek.
“Please, do not look so forlorn. I am asking you to bear with me but a short while longer. After all, we are a family already, are we not? You are as much a father to Ben as anyone might expect or even dare to wish.”
“Yes, but I am hardly a husband to you,” Darcy spoke in a soft, tender voice.
“Are you not? Have you not cared for and provided for me for the past months as a husband would care and provide for his wife?” she teased. “Might I expect something more upon taking the actual wedding vows?” Elizabeth asked. She called on her best imitation of a fair maiden in so doing.
Darcy took her delicate wrists in hand. “Teasing woman, were I your husband, without fail, you would know the difference.” He trailed kisses along her wrists.
“Every night would find you drifting asleep in my arms, wonderfully satiated from the feast of our lovemaking.” He resumed his pleasing kisses.
“Every morning would find you rousing in my arms, ravenous for more.”
Elizabeth had no doubt of the veracity of his words. Did she not fall asleep so many nights with pleasant dreams to that effect? She blushed and turned slightly away from him. “You make the prospect of our life as husband and wife sound delightful, Mr. Darcy.”
“Indeed. When shall we be married?” Darcy drew Elizabeth into the cradle of his arms, her back meshed snugly against his chest. “What amount of time constitutes proper decorum?”
“Two months seem a respectable period.” Elizabeth reclaimed the warm, comfortable spot she had treasured some moments earlier as she snuggled in closer.
Darcy removed the pins from Elizabeth’s hair, freeing it to cascade down her back.
He wove his fingers through her long, dark tresses and took in the delightful scent of lavender, before gently brushing her locks aside to find a most enticing spot behind her ear.
“A se’ennight,” he whispered. The soft music of his voice sent tremors through her body.
“At least six weeks,” Elizabeth whispered in kind .
Darcy trailed his fingers along Elizabeth’s slender neckline and traced a subtle pattern on her bare shoulders before guiding her to face him.
He chose a spot at the tip of her brow on which to lavish his attentions, effectively commencing the next round of debate.
“A se’ennight,” he insisted before breaking off talks.
Once Elizabeth sensibilities recovered enough to allow her to speak, she said, “Clearly you are not in tune with the finer points of negotiation, Mr. Darcy.”
“Am I not?” His eyes etched a tempting path from her eyes to the enticing décolletage of her evening gown.
The rise and fall of her chest told him all he needed to know of the efficacy of his approach.
With a slight sweep of his lips against her bare shoulder, he murmured, “You have yet to counter propose, my love.”
The burning shiver of desire coursing through her body threatened to melt every bit of her resolve. “A month—” she managed to utter.
Darcy teasingly brushed his lips against hers. “A se’ennight,” he repeated as he drew Elizabeth ever so slightly nearer to his body, close enough that she might realise the strength of his desire.
“A fortnight …” Elizabeth whispered. Her heart raced.
Her thoughts shouted, Should he keep at this, we might very well be planning a trip to Gretna Green in the morn!
She placed both hands on Darcy’s broad chest, initially hoping for a moment to catch her breath but instantly losing herself in the pleasure of the touch of his skin underneath her palms. He had discarded his cravat, as well as his dinner jacket and vest before she came across him.
The sight of the soft hairs of his chest threatened to strip away all her sense of purpose. She closed her eyes and relaxed.
Darcy rested his head atop hers as he gently caressed her curves. “Half a fortnight, Elizabeth,” Darcy murmured.
“How would we manage that, Mr. Darcy?”
“We shall be married by special license [1] , of course.”
“Does a special license not take time to procure?”
“What if I confess I took care of the matter before leaving town? ”
Elizabeth raised her head and looked into his eyes. “I would say you are rather presumptuous.”
“I would rather you say I am determined. Which I am, you know. I am determined to make you my wife as soon as can be.” Darcy kissed Elizabeth on the tip of her nose. “The ball is in your court, Elizabeth, my love. What say you?”
“Even with this new disclosure, I am resolved. I say a fortnight, Mr. Darcy.”
Darcy smiled. “A fortnight it is.”