Page 64 of Sketching Mr. Darcy

Finally, her shoes heavy with snow, her petticoat frozen and stiff around her feet, and her bonnet and gloves wet and cold, Elizabeth declared it was time to return home, laughing at his obvious relief.

She took his arm again as he removed her gloves and covered her hands in his.

This time, his gesture was expected and welcomed, and she entwined her fingers warming in his palm, thanking him with a brief look.

Holding her hands and watching her flushed face, Darcy wondered how long he would be able to contain the desire to kiss her frozen cheeks and red lips.

It took only a few minutes for them to enter the house, and he immediately took off his coat then removed hers and the bonnet, hurrying upstairs. He ordered that hot tea be sent to their room while he fetched his valet and her maid.

“The servants will believe we have lost our minds.” She laughed as she took his arm again and her shoes and dress, beginning to thaw, became heavy to wear.

Inside Elizabeth’s chamber, Lucky ran to them but, as he felt their cold, wet clothes, moved back.

“You should change your clothes immediately, and Molly will bring you hot water. We do not want this evening to end badly,” he said, brushing drops of water from her hair.

“I promise I will change immediately.” She wanted to ask whether they would speak again later, but Molly knocked and was invited in. Darcy left the room and closed the door.

Inside his own apartment, his valet helped him change then poured him a glass of brandy. Within a few minutes, Darcy was settled in nightshirt and robe, comfortable in his armchair, wondering what Elizabeth was doing.

He waited a few minutes then knocked. Elizabeth, in nightgown and robe, was in the middle of the bed. Her hair fell loose on her shoulders, and her knees, wrapped in her arms, were held to her chest. Her face coloured from warmth, her eyes laughing at him.

He sat at the edge of the bed, and Molly left immediately.

“You are still frozen,” he said reproachfully.

“A little. Molly will return soon with hot tea and something to eat. I hope you will join me. And she promised to bring me some hot water, too,” she said while rubbing her red and wrinkled feet. Her hair was slightly wet on her temple, and he brushed his fingers over it.

After knocking on the door, Molly brought a tray, put it on the table, and retired quickly.

“Wrap the blankets around you,” he said, preparing her a cup of hot tea. He took one himself, staying on the bed facing her. She sipped the tea as they gazed at each other.

“That is much better! William, this evening was so wonderful! Thank you.”

The joy was easy to hear in her voice and to see in her smile and in her eyes. On the small table, the bouquet of roses was smiling at them.

“This was a happy day—and a wonderful evening—and I hope it will be only the beginning. Please remember: I just started courting you.”

She laughed, and he leant to briefly kiss her cheeks then poured her another cup of tea.

“Now, Mrs Darcy, how are your feet?”

“Much better, thank you.” A moment later, she frowned and almost dropped the cup as he slowly removed the blankets, brushing his fingers over her feet.

“They are still very cold and red. I shall order thick winter boots and coats for you,” he said in earnest, and she laughed nervously, trembling but not from cold. “Now, please let me.”

Without waiting for her acceptance, his fingers gently touched her toes, her ankles, her heels, and then held her feet in his palms, rubbing them gently.

She put down the cup and pressed her hands together, her heart racing.

His fingers burned her skin, and each of his touches seemed to run from her feet and spread cold shivers inside her body while she was suddenly too warm.

His palms cupped her heels as his fingers brushed along her foot.

A moan escaped her lips, and his movements stopped, his eyes searching her face.

She closed her eyes and leant against the pillows, and he smiled with contentment then resumed his caresses.

It did not take long before his fingers felt differently, and Elizabeth bit her lips, not daring to move.

His caresses shifted to her ankles, and then his palms covered her feet.

“Is it better now?” he asked in a low voice, and she needed a moment to realise he was talking to her. She opened her eyes and nodded, and his gaze held hers.

Slowly, he moved closer, his hands a little higher along her legs. Then he cupped her face, caressing her cheeks. He carefully searched her eyes for a sign of her wishes, then his lips brushed over hers. He withdrew a bit and searched her eyes again.

Elizabeth hesitated a moment, then her hands shyly encircled his neck.

He felt her lips tentatively touching his.

One hand glided up her back while the other gently removed the blanket from her then entwined in her hair.

He could feel her warm body close to his, and without thinking much, he climbed into the bed, leaning near her and looking at her once again.

Her eyes were sparkling in a way he did not fail to recognise.

He lowered his head and greedily captured her half-opened mouth, allowing himself to enjoy the flavour for which he longed.

The kiss started as sweetly as Elizabeth expected, and her heart skipped a beat when he lay near her.

His lips were soft, warm and moist, and her own lips parted to welcome his growing passion.

This kiss, though gentle and tender, was nothing like yesterday’s, but it became bolder, even demanding.

The shock of his tongue testing, parting, and conquering her lips shattered her body, and she let out a moan that seemed to increase his eagerness.

She gasped and froze momentarily when she felt his tongue slipping inside, taking possession of her mouth.

She tensed, almost frightened by such an intimate gesture and by the novelty of sensations engulfing her, trying to respond but not knowing how.

His mouth left hers for a moment, and his lips traced countless small kisses over her face before returning to her mouth, resuming the sweet assault that found her breathless.

She lay against the pillows, and his body slowly moved closer, pressing against hers until he almost covered her, while his weight took her breath away completely.

She struggled for air with no success, and she attempted to turn her head a little, but his eager lips refused to abandon hers.

She moaned again when his right hand travelled lower, caressing her through the soft fabric.

Her head was spinning, and she shivered violently, unable to think. She gathered strength enough to push him a little and to whisper, “William, stop… Please, stop!” she said louder, and the next moment, Lucky was by the bed, barking loudly as a warning.

Darcy frowned as though awakened from a dream and rolled away, attempting to regain his control as he withdrew his hands from her. Lucky continued to bark at him and did not cease at Darcy’s request until Elizabeth, finally able to breathe, sent him to his place.

She dared a glance at her husband who, pale and troubled, departed from the bed in haste.

“William, please do not leave,” she managed to say.

“I am sorry. I completely lost myself. I apologise for behaving like a savage…”

“There is no need to go or to apologise. I just…”

It was too late, though, as the door had already closed behind him.

Elizabeth stared ahead, trying to regain her breathing and clear her mind.

How much time had passed since he entered her room?

A few minutes—an hour? She had completely lost track of time and of her own thoughts.

Her lips still carried his taste while her feet were still burning from his touches.

How could he leave that way? She did not want him to leave, but he did not even give her time to explain!

She brushed her fingers over her lips and closed her eyes, recollecting the sensations which already seemed unreal.

How could he just leave her there, with not a single glance?

And what was he doing now? She glanced at Lucky, who sat near the bed, watching her carefully.

“Do not worry. All is fine, my friend. I am not in danger,” she said, caressing his head.

Lucky almost bit him. Was he upset? What was she to do now?

Her mind was still troubled and her skin quivered while a hole of ice tightened her stomach. Only her feet were warm.

Molly returned with another servant, bringing a kettle of boiling water.

She impatiently washed in haste and changed her nightgown.

She became restless and irritated and kept asking herself what he was doing.

While Molly settled things for the night, Elizabeth pulled the robe around her and knocked on his door, entering without an invitation.

Darcy had just washed too and was changing his clothes. He was wearing only his trousers, and she stopped in the deepest embarrassment at the image of his bare torso. His surprise was no less, and he hurriedly put a robe on.

She gathered her courage and stepped forward, addressing the valet.

“Stevens, please be so kind as to leave us a moment. I need to speak to Mr Darcy privately.”

The servant immediately obeyed, and silence fell upon the room. He tied the robe closed, and she could not help staring at him.

“Elizabeth, is anything wrong? I hope you can forgive me for that—”

“Oh, please stop. I came to speak not to listen.” Her voice was so sharp that it surprised both of them. He looked at her wordlessly, and she needed time to pull her thoughts together.