“I am afraid we must. Chaperoned or not, we are in an untenable position, Elizabeth.”
“Do you think? It seems very tenable to me.” He had half raised himself again, but she pressed him back against the arm of the sofa and bent over him. He made no objection when she kissed him again, less gently this time. So far was he from objecting, in fact, that he shifted to draw her closer, and his fingers began exploring deeply through her hair.
The pins that had once held her hair in place had loosened during the night, and it was the work of a moment for them to tumble and slip beneath the cushions. Elizabeth scarcely noticed, but Darcy emitted a soft, pleased sound when the coil of her hair fell freely into his hand.
Never had a man played with her hair. Thrills raced down her scalp and she shivered, hoping the exquisite torment might never end. William’s eyes were closed, but both of his hands were now deliciously twined through her long dark spirals. He swept it back, following each strand down to its tip by turns, then returning his fingers to come through again. Little noises of helpless pleasure whimpered in her throat.
“Elizabeth,” he whispered, “this—this is what I dreamed of. I longed to hold you like this, for you to wish for me.” He cupped her jaw and brought her mouth back to his, and the only response she was capable of giving was a soft moan.
He was pulling her closer, his breath ragged against her lips as his hands slid from her jaw down her shoulders, then caressed her back. Elizabeth pressed in to him, her hair tumbling down and shrouding them in a bower of secrecy.
William froze. Her thick hair had shut out the light from the window, and the air of their intimate sanctuary had grown hot with their shared breath. He began to pant in uncontrollable huffs, then his hands were frantically pushing her back, away from him. In another instant, he had rolled from the sofa and vaulted several feet away. He stood, white and shaken, looking back at her in helpless apology.
“William?” she followed him and raised a hand to rest it upon his shoulder. He flinched, and she withdrew it.
“Forgive me, Elizabeth. I cannot… I cannot explain. Dark places, stale air—forgive me, my love, it is not you!”
She sighed and bit her lip, looking away to the window. “It will take time, William.”
He shook his head, then extended a hopeful hand to her. She took it, slowly, and he drew her to stand close. He glanced over the shelves, then cast a regretful look back at the sofa. “It is hard, Elizabeth, being at peace again. I always wished to have you at my side, to share this room with you,” he murmured.
“You did. You sat there,” she gestured to the chair by the fireplace. “I could have sworn to your presence so many times. It was as though I could hear and touch you. This is the place I felt closest to you, so I spent many an hour here, wishing I could hold you as I do now.”
He gazed down at their hands, tracing his fingers longingly over hers. “I wish to be home again, in truth. I wanted to be strong for you. How it nearly killed me for you to see my weakness! I wish to be your husband, Elizabeth, a partner to care for you, not a broken shell for you to nurse.”
“William,” she turned him to cup his face in her hands, “there is nothing for you to feel ashamed of. Were you on your death bed, you would still be my strength. Nothing can change that.”
He touched his forehead to hers and she could hear him fighting to steady his breath. “You do not feel imposed upon?”
“No,” she shook her head emphatically. “I feel blessed. In every way, I have such extraordinary sources of happiness, and they are all bound up in you.”
A bashful smile hovered on his lips, and he covered her hands again with his. “Thank you, Elizabeth.”
She placed a gentle kiss on his nose. “William,” she whispered, then glanced significantly at the sofa where two girls still reclined.
His face sobered. “I will go now, before they waken.”
Elizabeth tipped her head to the right. “I am not certain about Georgiana, but Lydia at least is no longer asleep.”
He groaned softly. “I had no dignity left as it was, I suppose.”
Chapter fifty-seven
“Lizzy,whenItoldyou all those months ago about letting a man hold you, I’d no notion you would attempt it in public.” Lydia held the hand mirror as her sister brushed her hair, angling it so she could catch Elizabeth’s eye with a knowing smirk.
“Are you saying that we should have been entirely alone?” Elizabeth set the brush aside and made a coil, refusing to permit her sister to embarrass her.
“It is usually better that way. A large, soft bed—ow! You needn’t poke me with the hair pins, Lizzy.”
“I was only comforting him. We were not in any danger of a seduction.”
“That is not what it sounded like to me. I have never heard you make some of those noises, and I am perfectly certain that Mr Darcy had—”
“Lydia, that is quite enough! Yesterday was rather trying for him, let us leave the matter to rest. Please, I beg of you, do not tell Kitty or Mama!”
“Hmm. Well, you are lucky that Georgiana slept through it all. At least, I think she did. Poor girl, she would not have known what to make of it if shehadwakened. You know that she and George never… well, you know… did you?”
Elizabeth made no answer for a moment, trying to at least appear to finish Lydia’s hair. “I was never certain. I am glad of it, though.”
