“I share your confidence, sir.” Each word uttered to support his marriage to Elizabeth relieved a measure of pressure from his heart.
“Will you be deciding about Ashworth today?”
Darcy felt the weight of the innocent-sounding question. It was a test he would not fail. “Not without discussing it with Elizabeth first.”
Mr. Crosgrove nodded, a slight grin at the corner of his lips. “You are a wise man, Mr. Darcy. You will do well.”
Unexpectedly, having the man’s approval lifted Darcy’s spirit. Suddenly, he could not wait to return to Meryton, to Elizabeth. With the click of his tongue, his mount picked up his pace. The sooner they arrived at Ashworth to meet Mr. Stalworth, the sooner he could be back in her company.
The poundingrain on the window made it impossible to see anyone approaching Longbourn, although that did not keep Elizabeth from looking. Tracing one of the rivulets with the tip of her finger, she worried about Mr. Darcy being caught in the sudden storm. For a certainty, she was also concerned about the safety of Mr. Bingleyand Mr. Crosgrove. Yet, her mind focused not on them, only on Fitzwilliam.
Had they arrived at Ashworth before the clouds burst? Were the gentlemen, even now, sitting in front of a roaring fire sipping hot tea, discussing the potential of the estate? What was Ashworth like? Was it suitable for a newly wedded couple with limited income?
She leaned closer to the glass, her concerns distracting her. Wait! In the distance, she saw a dark shadow approaching. Was that…?
Hurrying to the corridor, she waited as the butler rushed to the front door and opened it wide.
Within minutes, Darcy entered, handing his hat and gloves to Mr. Hill.
She was unaware she sighed until he looked directly at her. “Fitzwilliam,” she whispered. When his arms opened, she ran to him.
He clasped her to him. The water dripping from his great coat seeped through the fabric of her gown, cold against her chest.
“Elizabeth.” He lowered his face toward hers.
The coolness of his lips heated her through. Soft, yet firm to the touch. Tempting. Tantalizing. Her fingers splayed over his cheeks, his jaw in her palms, sharp stubble rasping against her skin. Her mind emptied of the worries that held her since the first peal of thunder and lightning strike.Her pulse raced.
Leaning back slightly, she felt the instant tightening of his grip. Pleased that he did not want to let her go, she inanely said, “You are here.”
“I am.”
She felt his smile against her mouth. If anything, thenext kiss was even more impassioned. Dropping her hands to his shoulders, she gripped him with all her might. Inhaling sharply, his lips eventually moved to press into her forehead.
“I worried.”
“I am grateful.” Pulling her as close as possible, he said, “I am getting you wet, I fear.”
She chuckled softly. “Perhaps I am trying to dry you off.”
His laughter rumbled in his chest, causing her complete joy.
Mr. Hill cleared his throat.
Elizabeth wanted nothing more than to remain standing in the entrance in his embrace, but reason intruded.As soon as she stepped back from him, his arms dropped to his sides.“Come to the fire so you can warm yourself and properly dry off. I will call for tea.”
Capturing his gaze, she saw pleasure…and hunger. Glancing down, following his gaze, she was horrified to discover the water from his coat plastered her gown against her form until she was…oh, my lord!Covering herself with her arms, she spun around and ran up the staircase to her chambers, completely mortified at her appearance.
Entering her room, she struggled to undo the buttons in the back, finally pulling the offending gown over her head to hang it on a peg to dry. Dressing in thick wool, she sat in front of the mirror to straighten her hair. Instead, leaning forward, her knees felt like jelly.
Who was the woman staring back at her, whose reflection was ethereal? She covered her eyes, too embarrassed to continue looking.
His kisses were so much more than she ever dreamed. They were powerful, wringing intense emotions from her core that she had no clue she possessed. Good heavens! Fitzwilliam Darcy was a dangerous man to be around.
Quickly arranging her hair in a simple knot, she hurried back down the stairs, eager to be in his company again. Silly girl!
21
To Darcy, the days passed slowly. He yearned to have Elizabeth in his arms. Her touch, her taste, was delicious. However, the enthusiasm of her mother and the protectiveness of her sisters interfered with his plans. Even Lydia, who initially was crude and unrestrained, completely reversed her position now that a ‘true gentleman’ was soon to be part of the family. She became the perfect chaperone. Not only were Darcy and Elizabeth not allowed a moment of privacy, but Bingley could no longer speak to Miss Bennet soft enough for no one else to hear. Mrs. Bennet was certain they discussed the upcoming wedding, and she insisted on her share of the conversation. Mr. Bennet laughed at them all.
