His breath caught. There was a second of hesitation, then his hands were about her waist and shoulders, drawing her close. Elizabeth wound her fingers through the thick tangle of his hair as his mouth pressed urgently to her forehead. His arms tightened, and they trembled together with the force of his anguish. She said nothing, merely held him close to her heart as he finally gave way to the ravages of all he had endured.
Deep choking sounds rumbled in his chest, and his face dropped to the hollow of her neck. Elizabeth clung to him, wishing somehow to relieve his agony. There was nothing she could say that the tears streaming down her own face and her arms wound about him did not express more eloquently.
“Elizabeth,” he mumbled thickly into her neck, “did you…” he lifted his head very slightly, and she heard the doubt trembling in his voice. She waited patiently, her fingers caressing the back of his neck. “I am… it is not too late?”
She brushed along his jaw, urging him to look into her eyes. “Too late?” she asked softly.
His dark eyes, as warm and tender as she remembered for all those months, captured her. “I have been away so long,” he quavered. “You cannot understand what it was, knowing that I could never again speak with you, to make things right—somehow learn if you could ever think well of me. I thought that even if I should ever be free again, I would have lost you forever. I needed you, Elizabeth—oh, how I need your love! Please tell me that it is not pity that brought you here. I could not bear it!”
She cradled his bowed head. “I came here, William, because I could not live without you.”
His body straightened, a breath of joy lifting his shoulders. The ghost of a smile threatened for the first time, but uncertainty still darkened his eyes. “I do not understand,” he gasped. “How? When did your sentiments change?”
Her brow furrowed. “I know not how to answer that. It came upon me so gradually, I could not fix the spot or the hour. I knew… oh, Iknew, when Mr Bingley came back to Jane, and he told us that you—” she squeezed her eyes and clamped her lips together as that searing grief flashed through her heart once more. She sniffed, trying to control her breaths, then a warmth caressed her cheek.
Her eyes flew open to meet his earnest, hopeful expression. His index finger brushed her face; curving over her cheekbone, caressing her earlobe, and then curling down her throat to sweep up over her chin. His gaze followed his finger, but when it reached the lower edge of her lips—moist and parted in wonder—he sought her eyes again.
“Please, Elizabeth,” he whispered.
She swallowed, watching him do the same. He was trembling, his shoulders quivering and his face dipping with each breath. She mouthed his name, releasing the last of her mourning to the mists of the dawn, and arched into his embrace. His lips, cool and soft, met her skin first, then there was the tickle of his warm beard. She stilled, thrilling in the taste of him, the feel of him breathing and living in her arms.
He lifted his mouth fractionally to nuzzle her cheek. “Dearest, loveliest Elizabeth!” he sighed.
She caught the back of his head to pull him down to her again, longing for just a little more. He pressed willingly into her, coaxing her mouth to open to him. Elizabeth allowed him to tilt her head, to hold her tightly against the length of his lean body. Rational thought vanished, the sky and the trees and the mountain itself fell away, and there was only his warm breath, his strong hands—onlyhim.
A laugh bubbled in her throat and she took his face in her hands to kiss his unshorn chin, his chilled nose, his proud forehead, over and over again. He was smiling in truth now, his tall frame relaxing at long last. “Elizabeth, I think you must tell me again—I am not dreaming? This is real?”
She tilted her head to press one more kiss to his warm, tender throat, then turned his body with hers. “Look there, William,” she urged.
He glanced down to her, his brow furrowed. “The sunrise?”
She smiled and took his hand in hers. “We need no longer hunger for dreams nor fear the dark, for we will never be cold and alone again.”
His arm tightened about her, pulling her head to his shoulder. “Elizabeth?” She turned up to look at him, though his eyes remained fixed on the house in the distance. Pale golden beams glinted off its windows, and its lake seemed alive with the morning light. He drew a long breath and released it slowly. “I am ready to go home now.”
Chapter forty-four
ColonelFitzwilliamreturnedtoPemberley alone that morning. He took himself at once to a hot bath, and then his bed, but not before assuring Hodges that Darcy was quite well, and would return shortly in the phaeton with Miss Bennet. He had not waitedallthat far down the slope, after all. It would not do to leave a lady without protection, but it was obvious that his protection was no longer required.
Georgiana was summoning him within an hour of retiring to his bed, but he ignored her, and told his footman that unless Darcy was still insistent upon his immediate departure or the house was afire, he was not to be disturbed until mid-day. When he did at last emerge, somewhere around the hour of luncheon, the house was still. The black shrouds had been removed from the last of the windows, the music room thrown open, and the staff were about their tasks as if nothing at all were unusual… except for the whispers of awe and wonder that flew about the house.
Darcy had also retired—at Miss Bennet’s insistence, he was told—but the young lady herself was in the breakfast room when he arrived. She looked up at his entry, her eyes puffy, and offered him a weak smile. “Good morning, Colonel. I trust you rested well?”
He cocked an eyebrow at her and drew aside a chair. “I doubt it qualifies as rest, but it was not the back of a horse for a change. Forgive me for speaking so to a lady, Miss Bennet, but did you retire at all?”
She rubbed an eye. “No, I could not. I went to speak with my sister to learn how Miss Darcy was faring. I am sorry that she was not able to speak long with her brother. It must have been a great disappointment after looking for him so long.”
He sighed and lifted his shoulders. “I did try to caution her, but I suppose that matters little against the circumstances. I’ve no doubt Darcy will be in a better mood to greet her this morning, thanks to you.”
She fingered her cup and looked up. “Colonel… he is still rather wary of everyone. I was barely able to persuade him to take to his own chambers, and that only because he was rather chilled from the elements. I made some mention of how diligently you had sought to recover him, and he abruptly asked me not to speak of it again.” She shook her head and yawned. “I do not know how his faith in even you was broken, but do not expect him to welcome you with open arms when he sees you today.”
He rose to the generously laden sideboard, his steps jerky with agitation. “How can he not trust me? Good heavens, we are like brothers! I hope you explained that bit about the marriage announcement on your carriage ride back. I think it must have been my father, for it was certainly not me; which puts me in mind also of my aunt’s intentions to wed me to my other cousin. I wanted no part in that, and dear old Mrs Reynolds was only trying to preventanotherannouncement from making its way to the papers.”
“I told him as much as I knew,” she offered. “He seemed glad of the sentiment, but I do not know how much he believed.”
Richard poured himself a stiff coffee and growled. “Well, I shall see if I can talk some sense into the bear when he emerges.”
“Richard.”
