Page 20 of Mr. Darcy's Storm of Temptation

"You have waited longer," Jane said generously. "You should not have to wait more."

The night before the wedding, Elizabeth could not sleep. Tomorrow she would become Mrs. Darcy. Tomorrow night, all those whispered promises would become reality.

She quivered, pressing her thighs tightly against the ache that had become her constant companion. Her body knew whatwas coming, even if her mind could not fully comprehend it. Tomorrow night, all the promises Mr. Darcy had whispered would become reality.

That night, Jane and Elizabeth both could not sleep. They lay in their beds, sharing confidences.

Jane asked, "Lizzy, are you frightened? For your wedding night. Mama said?—"

Elizabeth laughed. "Mama's lectures are quite frightening, to be sure. But no, I am not afraid. I do not think it is as she describes. In truth, I am eager. Is that terribly wicked?"

Jane blushed. "I think it is natural when one loves as deeply as you love Mr. Darcy."

"Jane, when you saw me and Mr. Darcy, did you truly believe I loved him? I know it seemed sudden."

"I saw how you looked at him," Jane said softly. "More than that, I saw how you spoke of him even before you admitted your feelings. You have been in love with him for months, dearest. The engagement was sudden, but the love was not."

Elizabeth jumped up, crossed to her sister's bed and hugged her tightly. "I am so happy you will marry Mr. Bingley. I pray, one day, we shall be neighbors in Derbyshire!"

"And our children shall be cousins and dearest friends," Jane added with a blush.

Jane blew out the candle and soon drifted off to sleep. Elizabeth lay, staring into the darkness. She thought of everything that had brought them to this point: the misunderstandings that had kept them apart, the letter that had opened her eyes, and the storm that had brought them back to each other. And she thought oftheir wedding night. She thought of the pleasures of the wedding bed, her face hot.

Tomorrow she would be his wife. And tomorrow night, she would finally have what her body had been craving all these weeks.

9

Elizabeth's weddingmorning passed in a blur. Her mother fluttered about, alternating between tears of joy and detailed instructions about wifely duties that made Elizabeth blush furiously.

"Now, Lizzy, when Mr. Darcy performs his husbandly duties, that is, tonight, you must remember that gentlemen have certain expectations."

"Mama, please!" Elizabeth begged.

"I am only trying to prepare you! You must keep him happy, and the marriage bed is vital to domestic harmony!"

"Mama!" Jane intervened. "Perhaps Lizzy should finish dressing."

Elizabeth escaped to her father's study while Jane distracted their mother. Mr. Bennet looked up from his book, his eyes suspiciously bright.

"My dear Lizzy," he said softly. "Are you happy?"

"Desperately happy, Papa."

"He is a good man," Mr. Bennet said. "Better than I first thought. The way he handled the situation with Lydia and Mr. Wickham shows the depth of his love for you."

"And I love him," Elizabeth said simply.

"Then I am content. Though I shall miss your wit and company terribly."

"We shall visit often," Elizabeth promised, embracing him. "Mr. Darcy has already said you are welcome at Pemberley whenever you wish."

"That is generous of him." He kissed her forehead. "Be happy, child. Be as happy as you deserve."

The morning of their wedding, when the vicar pronounced them married and Mr. Darcy kissed her, it was perfectly proper: a brief press of lips suitable for public viewing. But she felt the barely leashed passion in the tension of his body, tasted the promise of more on his lips.

"Mine," he whispered against her mouth, too quiet for anyone else to hear. "Finally, completely, eternally mine."

"Yours," she whispered back. "Always yours."