Page 63 of Pride, Prejudice & Wicked Pleasure

“And Sally?”

“Leading the miss to the Temple as we speak. It is fortunate timing. Before she left for London, Mrs. Trenwith had requested the Temple be prepared for the warmer spring weather.”

Darcy had not considered the state of the Temple. He only wanted a place to shelter Miss Elizabeth for an hour or two. His heart pounded as if he had run some distance, and not a moderate walk through the Trenwith garden. He paused before the pavilion, simple in construct with a red cupola, ivory columns, and single marble door. Two stone cats of alabaster guarded the entry. It had been many years since Darcy had set foot within its confines, though Abby preferred it to any other location.

Inside the rotunda, sunken reliefs and carvings of gods and goddesses, in various states of dress and copulation, looked down upon a low platform bed with a canopy of coral-coloured fabric above the headrest. A mountain of pillows decked the new bed clothes, a mix of hand-woven linen and raw silk. Lighting came from small pottery with floating wicks and warmth from a half-dozen torches evenly spaced in the pavilion, which otherwise would have been cold and pitch black.

Miss Elizabeth sat in the room’s only chair. His breath left him upon seeing her, dressed in a kalasiris with straps. The sheath reached just to the ankle, exposing sandals and feet to view, and its upper edge barely extended above the nipples. He could not help his gaze from lingering a superfluous second upon the gleaming orbs. A pleated shawl covered her shoulders and a turquoise mask concealed the upper half of her countenance. With her dark hair unadorned, and skin tanned from all her walking, she did not appear out of place in the apparel.

Seeing his study, she said, “Sally thought this costume fitting for the location.”

Darcy only nodded. She shifted her hips in discomfort, though he did not suspect the furniture to be the cause.

“I must admit to being quite confused at this appointment,” she said.

He could see her clenching her thighs together through the thin muslin. He could barely swallow.

She continued, “I had received direction that I am to meet you in the Chamber of the Golden Phoenix in the south wing. Now I have been shown here.”

He decided against telling her that the note she had received had likely come from Nicholas. She pulled at her neck and released a haggard breath. Her discomfort was contagious, and he found himself wishing he had fortified himself with a stiff drink before he came.

“I fear, mademoiselle,” he said, “that you have partaken of an aphrodisiac.”

She stared at him blankly.

“A substance that arouses sexual desire,” he defined.

“I know what an aphrodisiac is,” she replied, “but you must be mistaken.”

As she spoke, her disbelief seemed to fade. “I do feel…peculiar. I thought perhaps I had partaken of a little too much claret?”

“Were you not drinking of another beverage whilst in the company of Mr. Trenwith?”

“Yes, it tasted of cloves and cinnamon…you think he…?” She squirmed in her seat and began fanning herself with her hand. “What am I to do?”

“Nothing. We shall wait for the effect to dissipate.”

She knit her brow in thought. “But we are to have our third lesson, are we not?”

He pulled at his cravat. “Given your condition, I think it best we forego any lesson.”

“I am not incapacitated. I merely feel…flush.”

“You are under the influence of a drug.”

“I am in possession of my faculties.”

“I respectfully disagree. You cannot have had much experience with aphrodisiacs.”

“But you have?”

“I have seen its effects in others.”

“Does it not aid our purpose here?”

“All too readily,” he replied drily.

“Then what is your objection?”