Page 88 of Sketching Mr. Darcy

E lizabeth was uncertain how much time passed before she woke from something like sleep.

Her husband’s revelation was so powerful that it took her breath away again. Unbelievably, he was the one who saved her ten years ago—the son of the woman she so admired and whose brief acquaintance marked her childhood!

He was her hero? He was indeed, and two weeks after the wedding she finally discovered it. And yes, he was right again: fate had such a strange way of toying with them and their lives!

Had he told her earlier, perhaps…But no! She felt he was right in delaying the confession; otherwise, she never would have come to discover his true character.

He would not have had the chance to become her hero again. That is what he said. “Silly and childish”? Not at all…

There was still so much to ponder with this new disclosure, so many things to discuss, to clarify—but she had no strength or will to do so for the time being. It was evening, it was dark, and they were at home. She wished to speak to him.

As she tried to arrange her appearance, her mind kept repeating how such a coincidence was possible. She rang for Molly, who appeared immediately, informing her that the master was downstairs with Miss Darcy and Mrs Annesley, entertaining Colonel Fitzwilliam, the viscount, and Lady Maryanne.

Elizabeth joined the rest of the family, and they received her with much warmth. She felt Darcy’s worried gaze, and she responded with a quick smile.

“Elizabeth, I am so pleased that your father is well! Such a nice surprise that you have returned. We are going to dine with Thomas’s parents, but I imagine neither you nor Georgiana will come now.”

“No, we are very tired. However, I would very much like to have dinner together one of these days. So, how was the ball? You must give me details.”

“The ball was lovely, but…” When Lady Maryanne hesitated, Darcy continued, slightly embarrassed.

“They just told me that Annabelle appeared at the ball with a dress exactly like the one I ordered for you, only a different colour.”

“I hope it was not a tragedy,” Elizabeth smiled. “I imagine many dresses look alike.”

“Lady Isabella said it was not alike at all, as it was not about the dress but the person who wears it. Lady Stafford had a nasty argument with her. If you had been present, things might have become somewhat awkward but as it was, I would rather call it ridiculous.”

“I agree.” Elizabeth marvelled at how little affected she was about Annabelle.

“And there is another bad news: Lady Catherine is in Town,” Darcy added. “She came here yesterday, but Robert did not allow her to enter beyond the main hall.”

“Could this be a problem?” Elizabeth noticed the others’ worried glances.

“Well, she—”

“No!” Darcy replied. “I shall speak to her tomorrow. You have nothing to worry about.”

“Then let us change the subject. Pray tell me, are Lord and Lady Matlock well, I hope?” Elizabeth said charmingly, unable to dissipate her concern completely .

After their guests left, dinner was ordered. It passed quietly and ended early. Elizabeth and Darcy retired to their suites soon after. The day had been long and exhausting.

While the servants prepared their baths, Elizabeth’s anxiety increased. She felt troubled and embarrassed without knowing why. She delayed speaking to her husband until she could not avoid it. As they had not talked since the confession in the gallery, he began by apologising again.

“William, let us not speak of this now, please! I am not upset—in truth, I am a little—but I am too distressed now, and I cannot bear anything more.”

“I am sorry. We will only speak of what you wish. But why are you distressed? What a silly question—you have so many reasons to be upset and troubled.”

“True, but I shall put them aside for now. I will have a bath and then… I remember what I promised.” She averted her eyes, blushing slightly.

He seemed puzzled, and then his fingers tipped her chin.

“Elizabeth, you have no reason to be troubled and no promise to fulfil. It has been a long day, and you have had to endure so much. There is no need for haste. I will take a bath too and will be in my room. I would be delighted to have a glass of wine with you and to speak a little more. And I may keep you company until you fall asleep if you wish.”

Darcy briefly kissed her lips and embraced her tightly before he left. She looked at the closed door and breathed deeply. Suddenly, she felt lighthearted and calm.

Elizabeth spent half an hour enjoying the bath, which released all her worries and made room for her thoughts and memories of the last few days. The warm water caressed her body, and she blushed as she admitted that her husband’s touches were even softer.

What is he doing? Finished with his bath? Shaving his face? Thinking of me?

He told her so many times how much he desired her and how difficult it was to bear her closeness without consummating their marriage. And now that he could do it, he allowed her to decide again. He offered his company, his patience, and his care and allowed her to choose. And she already had!

***

Darcy stood near the armchair by the window, staring outside, dressed in nightshirt and robe. The bath had been welcome, but he impatiently finished it then asked Stevens to shave him. He thought Elizabeth might come to him and did not want to have her wait.

He felt relieved after confessing the last secret of their relationship, but he blamed himself for hurting her. However, he was certain he had made the right decision in not telling her earlier. At least now, they both knew that she had started to grow fond of him.

What is she doing? Should I knock and check? Certainly not—I said I would wait.

Did she think I would insist on her becoming my wife this very night? Yes, we were very close to that at Longbourn, but I could not insist…unless she wanted to. If she should come to me…

The door opened so slowly that he did not hear it. He sensed—before he saw—Elizabeth a few steps away looking at him.

The nightgown draped over her curves, leaving exposed her arms, her shoulders, her neck, and her bare feet, suggesting what was not fully revealed. Her hair flowed in heavy, silky, dark curls while her lips and eyes smiled at him. He hurried to her.

“I am so happy to see you, my beautiful wife. May I offer you something?”

“Only your love,” she said, her face, neck, and arms colouring. “I have come to you, husband, with passion and desire, and complete trust…with no fear, no doubts, and no restraint.”

“Elizabeth…” he whispered, incredulous .

“I have been Mrs Darcy for some time now. I wish nothing more than to be your wife .”

Her voice trembled slightly, and her strength vanished while his gaze penetrated her soul.

His arms conquered and imprisoned her, carrying her towards the bed that had sheltered his dreams and hopes for such a long time.

He set her down against the pillows while his eyes never released hers.

“I wish nothing more than to be your husband, to show and prove my love for you. With passion and desire, and complete trust. With no fears, no doubts, and no restraints.”

He murmured her own words a moment before his lips captured hers with adoring tenderness that soon turned into fervour and eagerness.

The moment to fulfil their union had finally arrived—and the night was just beginning.

***

Darcy looked at Elizabeth, afraid to believe the moment was real.

She was lying still, her eyes closed, her dark, heavy locks falling across the pillow and covering her shoulders, her arms, her neck, her breasts.He leant closer. Her hair smelled of jasmine and had the softness of silk. He lowered himself atop of her, kissing her eyelids.

“Elizabeth? Please look at me, my love.”

She obeyed and smiled shyly, breathing irregularly.

The room was lit only by a candle near the window and the fire burning steadily, and she thought she had never seen that glint in his eyes.

“You must tell me what to do…what you wish me to do…” she whispered.

His lips brushed over hers then covered her face with small kisses, resting upon her ear and tantalising her earlobe as he said hoarsely :

“I want you to do just what you want to do…and to allow me to do the same…”

She shivered, her heart racing. As she tried to inquire further, her dry mouth failed her.

He leant closer, his body almost crushing her, so he supported his weight on his elbows, and she could breathe again. Their nightclothes could not prevent the heat of their bodies, which brushed against each other.

Their eyes held, their lips almost touching. She entwined her fingers in his hair, and he smiled, his fingers gliding through her hair as well.

“Elizabeth…” he said again, and his low voice spread shivers along her spine. How was it possible that her name on his lips built such astonishing reactions within her?

She struggled to breathe while his lips returned to caress her face, her jaw, her throat—then he stopped and looked at her again.

“For more than two days I have not kissed you as I wished,” he said, his mouth capturing hers for only an instant. “No, that is not true… I have never kissed you before as I wished …”

The grip of his fingers tightened in her hair, and he leant closer. His weight was breathtaking and intoxicating. His face was so near, and she admired his handsome features just as he whispered: “You are so beautiful…”

His lips finally met hers, and she sighed in delight, abandoning herself to the pleasure that slowly grew while the kiss deepened, his tongue tasting her possessively.

She released a small cry when his legs abruptly separated hers, resting between them.

Her nightgown was too tight, and she felt his hands hastily pull it up along her thighs then return to caress her hair while the passion and eagerness of his kiss almost frightened her.

Then he suddenly withdrew and looked at her flushed face, caressing it gently.