Page 6 of Mr. Darcy's Storm of Temptation

Elizabeth snatched her hand away, her face hot. "Yes, thank you. One moment."

She rose on shaking legs, her body still humming with that delicious ache. As Sally helped her dress, Elizabeth could barely stand still. Every brush of fabric against her sensitive skin made her breath catch. The stays seemed unusually restrictive, making her too aware of her own body.

"Are you well, miss?" Sally asked with concern. "You seem flushed."

"Quite well," Elizabeth managed. "Just warm from sleep."

The morning gown of soft yellow muslin should have been modest, proper, but Elizabeth felt exposed in it. Could others see this change in her? Could they tell from looking at her that she had become someone different, someone who burned with improper thoughts?

The breakfast room was bathed in sunlight, and Mr. Darcy was already there, standing by the window with a cup of coffee. He turned at her entrance, and their eyes met with devastating impact.

"Good morning, Miss Elizabeth." His formal tone after last night's intimacy, after he had called her simply Elizabeth, aftershe had called him Fitzwilliam, made her chest tighten. "I trust you slept well?"

"Very well, thank you, Mr. Darcy." The lie came smoothly, though her cheeks heated when his gaze lingered on her face, no doubt noting the shadows beneath her eyes that matched his own.

She took her seat carefully, intensely aware of every movement. When she shifted in her chair, she caught Mr. Darcy watching her, his eyes dark and questioning. She forced herself to stillness, though the ache between her thighs persisted.

When she smiled at something Mrs. Gardiner said, she caught his eyes dropping to her lips, lingering there. The knowledge that he watched her mouth sent a pulse of heat through her. She found herself licking her lips to catch a drop of tea, and was rewarded by his sharp intake of breath.

"The weather has cleared beautifully," Mr. Gardiner observed. "Perhaps a walk in the gardens?"

"An excellent notion," Mr. Darcy agreed immediately. "I would be honored to serve as a guide."

"That sounds delightful," Mrs. Gardiner said, rising. "The fresh air will do us all good after yesterday's ordeal."

Twenty minutes later, they walked through Pemberley's magnificent gardens. The Gardiners had fallen into their own conversation some yards behind, admiring the plantings and discussing Mr. Gardiner's interest in landscape design, while Elizabeth and Mr. Darcy walked ahead. They maintained a proper distance between them, yet Elizabeth felt him with every fiber of her being: his heat, his presence, the way he shortened his stride to match hers.

They walked in comfortable silence for several minutes, the Gardiners admiring a fountain some distance behind them. Elizabeth noticed Mr. Darcy pause at a newly planted grove of young trees, his expression softening.

"My father and I planted the original grove here when I was eight," he said quietly. "A terrible storm destroyed it last winter. Every ancient oak, gone in a single night."

"How heartbreaking," Elizabeth said softly. "To lose something with such memories."

"I thought so too, at first." He touched one of the saplings gently. "But Georgiana insisted we replant. She said..." He paused, a small smile playing at his lips. "She said that holding onto dead things too tightly prevents new growth. That sometimes storms clear the way for something better."

Elizabeth's breath caught. "She is wise beyond her years."

"She has had to be." His voice carried old pain. "After our father died, I tried to preserve everything exactly as it was. Every tradition, every rule, every expectation. I thought that was how to honor him."

"And now?"

He turned to her fully, his eyes vulnerable in a way that made her heart ache. "Now I understand that blind adherence to the past can be its own kind of pride. That sometimes the most honorable thing is to admit when change is needed."

"Is that why you helped the Johnsons?" she asked, remembering something the housekeeper had mentioned. "Mrs. Reynolds said you forgave their debt and helped them start over after Mr. Johnson's injury."

Color rose in his cheeks. "Mrs. Reynolds talks too much."

"She esteems you greatly. As do all your tenants, it seems." Elizabeth studied his face. "You have changed their lives, given them hope."

"My father would have demanded the debt be paid," he admitted. "The old Darcy would have too. But watching you in Hertfordshire, seeing how you treated everyone with equal kindness regardless of station... it made me reconsider many things."

"Me?" She could not hide her amazement.

"Always you," he said simply.

They had continued walking, the path gradually narrowing until hedges pressed close on both sides. They walked nearer now, arms almost brushing.

"Thank you," Elizabeth said, feeling something settle within her. Desire for this gentleman simmered beneath her skin, but she knew it was more than that. She saw his kindness. He was not only a handsome man, not only an intelligent man, but a good one. "For helping me know you better."