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“You do not need to; you are well worth waiting for,” he said.

They sat down to eat, and Darcy noticed that she was feeling nervous.

“Are you well?” he asked, and she struggled to meet his eye.

“Yes, I am.”

“You are not eating at all,” he observed.

“No, I am,” she said and tried to finish her plate.

“Do you find your room to your liking?” he asked.

“I do. The décor is lovely, and I cannot imagine how beautiful the view would be from the balcony,” she said, her eyes bright with excitement.

“It has a beautiful view; you can see the lake and miles away. I know you have explored various trails near Ashton Park, but the woods here are beautiful as well. I cannot wait till spring to take you to the best spots,” he said, and Elizabeth nodded.

“We must have discussed this before; where would you like to go on a honeymoon?” he asked.

“Honestly, Fitzwilliam, I do not want to unless you wish. We have gone through so much in the past months, and I am exhausted from our recent trip to town. I want to stay here with you in Pemberley and enjoy the comfort of being at home.”

“I understand what you mean. But we can plan on a short trip; your father has invited us to his estate in Scotland, but I am not comfortable having you around his daughter.”

“Please do not bring that subject up again, not today,” she said.

“I apologize,” he said, holding her hand, “I do not want us to miss our honeymoon. We can discuss this later.”

Elizabeth agreed.

After supper, he walked her into her room, and as he did, he could sense her discomfort. Finally, he understood what her fear was.

How did I not understand earlier? She fears the night; I can see it in her eyes.

Elizabeth stared at the bedpost, unable to contain her discomposure as Darcy never let go of her hand.

Much to her shock, he pulled her to face him.

“You are afraid about the wedding night, aren’t you?” he said, looking deep into her eyes.

“No, I am not,” she blurted.

“You are a very poor liar, Elizabeth. I knew this since the day you rejected my proposal; your eyes always speak the truth.”

Elizabeth did not know what to say as she feared offending him.

He is my husband, and I love him; how can I declare that I am afraid to be intimate with him?

“Look at me. I do not know what you heard from your aunt or anyone else who spoke to you about this, but you need to trust me; I will not do anything you don’t want to do.”

“I trust you, Fitzwilliam. Please do not misunderstand me, and I am sorry to have upset you,” she said, looking at the seriousness of his face.

“Good Heavens! I am not upset; I am concerned about you. I cannot stand it if you feel uncomfortable in my presence.”

“You do not make me uncomfortable in any way; the truth is I am nervous, as any woman should be,” she said.

“Do not be. Can you trust me?” he asked her, and she nodded in agreement.

Darcy left, promising to return when she was ready. Elizabeth paced her room before calling for her maid to help her for the night and finally changed into a nightgown her aunt had bought her.

Her maid brushed her hair and left. She looked at herself in the mirror and wondered how Darcy would feel when he saw her. Suddenly, Elizabeth heard a knock, and she instinctively grabbed a shawl and wrapped it around herself.

“Come in,” she said and bit her lips.

As Darcy entered, he could immediately sense what she had done. He could not help but smile at the sight of his beautiful wife.

Though she wore a beautiful nightgown in a shade of peach, she had hurriedly wrapped herself in a shawl, covering her shoulders.

In the process, her beautiful hair, which she had let down, appeared messy; some curls fell across her face while the rest were tucked inside her shawl.

According to Darcy, she was a picture of beauty and innocence, and he knew he would never forget the sight of her that night, and he smiled.

He had brought a small package with him, which he placed on the table, and walked closer to her.

Elizabeth stared at him, her breath getting shallower by the moment.

“Please allow me to help you,” he said and gently took the shawl she held from her hand.

He adjusted it slightly, and his fingers carefully moved the curls away from her face and let the rest of her hair fall to her hips.

Once done, he wrapped the shawl around her once again, admiring her beautiful tresses.

Elizabeth suddenly felt dizzy.

“Thank… Thank you!” she finally said.

He guided her to sit and gave her the package he had brought.

“What is this?” she asked.

“It belongs to you.”

Elizabeth opened it with curiosity, and her eyes widened once she saw the present.

“This is the book I wanted to purchase at the store.”

“The one I arrogantly stole from you,” he corrected, making Elizabeth smile.

“I cannot believe it, Fitzwilliam. Why did you not give it to me before?”

“Maybe I wanted to do it at the right time.”

“But trust me, I never forgave you for what you did to me that day,” she said, trying to sound annoyed.

“Is that so? Now that I have returned it to you, you must find a way to forgive me.”

“Very well, but tell me, why were you so arrogant that day?”

“I really do not know, Elizabeth. The moment you saw me, you became angry, and I cannot tell you how attractive you look when upset. Your eyes sparkled with irritation, and I will never forget your argument with me that day,” he said, smiling at the memory.

“You expect me to forgive you when you still find the incident amusing? Shame on you, Fitzwilliam,” she cried with irritation and tried to get up. Darcy immediately pulled her back to her seat.

“So, you want to know why I taunted you that day?” he asked as he moved closer to her. His face was merely inches away from hers, and Elizabeth could feel her heart pounding.

“Yes,” she said, trembling.

“Because you bewitched me with your beauty, and though I bought the book, I could not read it or give it to Georgiana. I have kept it with me all these months and every night I went to sleep after looking at it on my table. The comfort this book has given me cannot be explained in words; I felt as though I had a part of you with me. I have waited for this day to give it to you because I no longer need it as I have you by my side,” he said, and Elizabeth could sense how much he loved her.

“I bewitched you that day?” she asked, touching his cheek.

“You did,” he said as his hand wrapped around her waist.

“Do I bewitch you now?” she asked, amazed at her own courage.

“In a way, I cannot describe in words.”

“If you cannot, then I am sorry; I am unable to forgive you for what you did at the bookstore,” she said, teasing him.

“Maybe you will after this,” Darcy said, and before she could reply, he passionately captured her lips, shocking her.

As much as she had feared the night, Elizabeth found herself melting in her husband’s touch, and the sensations building within her took her breath away.

As they parted, Darcy observed her expression for a few seconds and asked.

“Do you forgive me now?”

“I don’t,” she said teasingly.

“Is that so? I assure you that by the end of this night, you will,” he said, swiftly carrying her to bed.