Daylight streamed through the windows when she woke him by rubbing her palm over the stubble of his beard. “Mr. Darcy, you are more handsome when you are not so properly dressed.” Her laughter started as a gurgle in the back of her throat.“Do you have any idea of the time?”
“Do you have a pressing engagement elsewhere?” He pulled her closer to kiss her tenderly.
“I was just considering my need for nourishment. If I am to spend the rest of my life in bed with you, Sir, I will need the occasional meal to maintain my strength.”
“So, you never want to leave our bed either?” A look of contentment overspread his face.
“Fitzwilliam, I want to be wherever you are, but this bed has a special appeal,” she taunted.
He moved casually from the bed to retrieve her gown. “I will have someone bring us something to eat and have the room freshened. Maybe you would like to find a robe to add to your wardrobe,” he handed her the gown.“I will get rid of this stubble.” He rubbed his chin across the back of her hand.
Unable to contain her smile, Elizabeth slipped on her gown and disappeared into her dressing room before he put on his trousers and pulled the bell cord for the servants.
Elizabeth, not used to having people wait on her every whim, looked surprised to see Margaret enter her dressing room, but then she realized Darcy summoned her.
“Mrs. Darcy, I am having bathwater brought up; I assume you would like a bath.”
Elizabeth knew her appearance must be an open book of hernight with Darcy; she blushed at the thought, but she managed to say, “Thank you, Margaret, that would be nice.” She even offered the woman a hint of a smile.
Two younger maids entered with vases of yellow roses and put them on Elizabeth’s dressing table.“What are these, Margaret?”
“Mr. Darcy had them brought from Pemberley for you, Mrs. Darcy. He had them cut as buds, wrapped in newsprint, and kept damp until they got here so they would not go bad. They were supposed to be here yesterday, but the driver had trouble on the road. Mr. Darcy wanted them for your bedroom last night, Madam; I hope he is not upset.”
“It is fine, Margaret. I am sure Mr. Darcy did not notice.”
“You are right, Madam. With a wife as beautiful as you are, a man should not be looking at flowers. I beg your pardon, Mrs. Darcy, sometimes my mouth runs away from my good sense.” Elizabeth let the woman know she offered no offense, and then she blushed with a remembrance of Darcy’s passion last night.
Margaret moved a screen to block Elizabeth from the view of the servants carrying in the bathwater. Once they left, Elizabeth leisurely lay back in the warm water and let it seep around her body. Images of her husband played in her mind; she could not believe how easily she and Darcy became comfortable with each other; she knew she should not have looked on him or touched him as she did last night, but Darcy accepted her interest in his body—his pleasure as natural; it was liberating. Her mother would have been horrified; Mrs. Bennet, Charlotte, and Lydia painted pictures of what happened between a man and woman in the bedroom. Everything she ever gleaned about her “wifely duty” did not occur in her bedchamber last night. Darcy created a place where her desires often took precedence over his; images of the firmness of his shoulders and back and his arousal danced behind her closed eyes. When she finally got out of the tub, Margaret brought her a fresh gown, this one of white satin. “Another gift from Mr. Darcy, Madam.”
Elizabeth sat down at the dressing table; as she did at Pemberleyshe reached out gently to touch the petals of the roses. Margaret picked up the hairbrush to tend to Elizabeth’s hair when Darcy came up behind her.“I will do it, Margaret.”
“Yes, Mr. Darcy.” She curtsied and left.
Elizabeth held one of the roses in her hand and took in its fragrance. She said nothing to him as he took the brush and gently swept her hair back from her neck. She watched his reflection as he caressed her neck, kissing the nape; she turned to face him, tears forming in her eyes. “Elizabeth, is there something wrong?”
“It grieves me I did not see the man you were before now,” she whispered.
“I am a different man because I met you, Elizabeth.”
“These flowers are from your mother’s plant, are they not?”
“The yellow represents the constancy of my love for you; each day the yellow sun rises in the sky is a day I will love you, Elizabeth.” He wiped away the tears streaming down her cheeks. “Are all women so emotional?” he teased.“You cry when you are happy and when you are sad.”
She gave him a hint of a smile before her arms encircled his neck tightly. “It is part of my arts and allurements,” she whispered in his ear.
“Let us go and eat what we have inourroom so we can return toourbed,” he said softly into her hair for she still clung to him tightly. He picked her up and carried her back to the bedroom.
Darcy set her down in one of the chairs; she still clutched the rose in her hand; then he sat down across from her. She was so solemn it perplexed him as to what to do next. He took some of the fresh fruit on a fork and offered it to her. Elizabeth took it in her mouth and chewed it thoughtfully. Once she swallowed, she turned to Darcy and said, “Fitzwilliam, I never want you to be sorry you married me. You gave me so much already; I have nothing to give you in return.”
“Elizabeth, give me your respect, help me maintain Pemberley, and love me as you did last night. No man could want for more.”
Although she still felt a bit inadequate to deserve such a man asFitzwilliam Darcy, Elizabeth nodded her head, but she did not answer. Instead, she picked up the fork, took a piece of fruit on it, and placed it in Darcy’s mouth.It would all be good,she thought.I will prove myself worthy of his love.
Later, when they returned to the bed, Darcy laid back with the pillows propped behind him and Elizabeth’s head on his chest. “Poor Jane,” Elizabeth sighed.
“You are in our bed and thinking about your sister. I lost my appeal to you, I see.”
“On the contrary, Sir. I was just thinking Jane and Mr. Bingley are trying to be husband and wife in a house full of guests and my family three miles down the road. Jane deserves this kind of happiness; she and Mr. Bingley should be somewhere alone as we are.” She turned over and moved where she could reach his mouth. “Now, I am in need of a different kind of sustenance; one of your kisses would greatly restore my energies.” Darcy took her in his arms, letting the lavender overtake him.
