“I have no power over water.” She had never seen him like this.
“Try anyway.”
Silently she told the water to spill. And it did, just as it had listened to her at the revel. “Good heavens!” No wonder her magic had misbehaved. She had some of Darcy’s magic, and he had some of hers.
“Good heavens, indeed. Now close your eyes and tell me what I am doing with the hand I have behind my back.”
“How could I... Oh, very well.” She closed her eyes and thought about his hand. Suddenly she could feel it – from the inside. Her eyes flew open. “You have your fingers spread.”
He produced his hand, and his fingers were indeed spread. He stepped forward until their bodies were almost touching. “Do you still believe it is possible to choose not to hold me to the commitment?” He seemed intent and demanding at the same time, hunting her like a lion stalking a gazelle. Was he displeased with her?
She moistened her dry lips with her tongue. “I did not expect that to happen. I assumed it was more of a legal connection, and I had no way of knowing Aelfric would break with Wickham that night anyway.”
“You said you loved me. You said you would leave England with me. You claimed blood right to me. There is no going back.” He placed his hands on her shoulders, but instead of pulling her towards him as she expected, he steered her backwards one step at a time. “If I had known what it meant, do you know what I would have done?”
The back of her legs came up against the bed, causing her to sit down with a thump. “What?” Why was her voice so high?
He placed his hands on the bed on each side of her hips and leaned over until she could feel the warm rush of his breath on her face. “I would have done it anyway,” he whispered.
His lips descended on hers. As his mouth moved across hers, unleashing a tide of desire, he bore her backwards until her head was on the pillow. He scooped her legs up onto the bed and then he was above her, propping himself up on his elbows with his legs trapping hers.
Elizabeth rallied one final bit of rationality. “Why are you behaving this way?”
His smile had something feral about it. “Because I have noticed that whenever you take a step towards accepting me, you run away afterwards. I want to make it clear your running days are over.”
Joy flooded her. She wound her arms around his neck. “Who says I want to run? After all, I was the one who claimed blood right.”
His eyes flared. “So you did,eliarinn.” He brushed his lips against the side of her neck and trailed his tongue up to her ear. “And I did not deny you,” he whispered before turning his attention to the sensitive notch between her collarbones.
With a whimper she arched herself towards him, desperate to feel his body against hers, and he obliged by lowering his body to meet her own. She could feel the pressure of him through every inch of her, and it still was not enough. She clasped his head between her hands and brought his lips back to hers.
She had longed for this so much since that night in the Dower House sitting room and had despaired of ever feeling it again. And it was even more – so much more contact, and this time she could feel the reflection of his pleasure in her response. It made her even more shameless, running her hands down his back as his kiss devoured her.
That ache she remembered started building again deep within her, making her writhe beneath him. Oh, she needed more! And this time there was no need for guilt or shame, and she could drown in the pleasure of his hand caressing her neck, her shoulder, her arm – had he pushed her dress off her shoulder? Yes, and now he was bringing his mouth to that tender skin...
The knock on the door barely registered to Elizabeth through her sensual haze, but Darcy must have noticed it. “Go away!” he called.
“Fitzwilliam Darcy, I am going to count to ten, and then I am opening this door.” Lady Matlock sounded furious.
“I should have locked it,” muttered Darcy as he helped Elizabeth pull up the shoulders of her gown. They both scrambled off the bed.
Elizabeth attempted to straighten the rumpled counterpane, but it was hopeless. Instead she sat down firmly in the middle of it to cover the evidence. There was nothing to be done about the disheveled state of her hair.
The door opened to reveal a frowning Lady Matlock. Her husband stood behind her, looking more amused than annoyed.
“There is no reason for concern.” Darcy bit out the words. “Elizabeth and I went through the Faerie equivalent of marriage just before the revel.”
“That is not my equivalent of marriage,” said Lady Matlock. “Darcy, you will find a horse, ride to London, and return with a special license. Now.”
“There is no point,” Elizabeth said, acutely conscious of her swollen lips. “I am not of age, so it would not be valid.”
“In that case, Darcy will also have to call on your father and get his permission,” said Lady Matlock severely.
“My father is more likely to lock me in the attic than to give his permission,” Elizabeth said. “Convincing him may not be a quick process, and I am not willing to speak to him about it at present.”
“Then we will just have to keep you apart until he gives it,” Lady Matlock stated firmly.
Darcy made a noise that could only be described as a growl. “Come, Elizabeth. We are leaving.”
