“Happier than I have ever been.”
That was all the confirmation he needed. His tongue traced the outline of her mouth before her lips parted and welcomed him. She moved closer, and Darcy caressed her hips and groaned as he held her tightly against him.
“Fitzwilliam, what about Mr. Bingley?” she inquired provocatively.
“Let Mr. Bingley find his own wife.” Caught up in the heat of the moment, all reason left him. He backed Elizabeth towards the bed and pinned her down there. He kissed her mouth—her temple—her ear—her neck. Instinctively, her hips moved against him, seeking something she desired. Darcy’s mouth traced lines of heat across the swell of her breasts before returning to her mouth.
He palmed her breast as he released the kiss, recognizing her growing need for him. Looking deep into her hypnotic eyes, he said hoarsely,“It is wrong, but I must touch you. Please allow me.” As he spoke, Darcy edged her skirt tail up, exposing Elizabeth’s legs; yet he never looked away from her eyes.“You are so beautiful.” His hand slid up the inside of her calf, and a small warm pool formed inside her body.
Darcy lowered his head and sucked gently on the side of her neck. His fingers massaged the back of her thigh, increasing his hunger, and so he sucked harder, lightly raking his teeth over his favorite spot. His breath on her skin brought her a new shiver of pure desire.
Totally involved, neither of them initially heard Morris’s knock. “Mr. Darcy, Sir,” came the familiar voice.
Darcy closed his eyes. Then he lowered his wife’s skirt. “Just a moment, Morris,” he called out in a strained voice, but Darcy and Elizabeth did not break their gaze. “I apologize,” he whispered, preparing to roll away from her.
But before he could do so, Elizabeth caught the lapels of his jacket and pulled him back. “If you apologize, my Husband, for having to stop what we began, then I accept your regrets.” She turned his chin to her. “However, do not ever make amends for showing me your affections.Touch me—kiss me. I am yours.” Her lips brushed against his lightly.
Darcy swallowed hard, taking command of his body. He did not respond to her declaration; he would think on it later. He simply nodded, moved away from her, and straightened his waistcoat and combed his fingers through his hair. Reaching the door, he released the lock; cracking it open only a few inches, he looked out into the worried eyes of his valet.“What is it, Morris?”
“Mr. Redford reports, Sir, that he found your gun and your cane in the recess off the main street where you dropped them while assisting Miss Darcy yesterday. But he found no traces of the sword. I placed the items in your chambers, Sir.”
“Thank you, Morris.”
Darcy closed the door as his manservant strode away. Immediately, Elizabeth was beside him. “You sent someone to retrieve your weapons?”
“I could not go myself. I sent one of the Bow Street runners. Wickham disappeared and Mrs. Younge crumbled into decay before our very eyes. I feared someone might have taken notice of our altercation—the sound of gunfire—the screams.That is why I rushed you and my sister from the scene—to protect both of you. I wanted no evidence to link us to that battle. Could the sword have disappeared with Amelia Younge? Could Wickham have taken it? Or could someone else have taken it after we left?”
“What did you tell the runner?”
“Georgiana hurt her ankle, and a nefarious character tried to take advantage of her before I brought the carriage around. I chased the man into the alley, and we fought. I was defending my sister’s honor. I dropped my weapons when I carried my sister to safety, totally forgetting about them in my concern for her.”
Elizabeth chuckled with a new realization about her husband. “Another half truth, Mr. Darcy?”
“It is the way of high society. One becomes accustomed to such shades of verity. People believe what they want to believe. A man would protect his sister’s honor by chasing her attacker into a service alley. No more needs to be said.” He closed his eyes briefly, and when Darcy opened them again, Elizabeth looked into blue pools. “I tell others what they wish to hear. I tell you the truth; you know me as no one else does. I hide nothing from you, Elizabeth—not my fight to end the curse—not my need to protect those I love—not my barely controlled desire to possess you.”
Elizabeth caressed his chin line, and Darcy turned his head to kiss her palm. “I know you, Fitzwilliam,” she whispered in a thready voice. “You are like me. We neither of us want anyone to really know us for fear we will be found wanting.” She squeezed her eyes shut to control the tears forming behind her lids. She felt a not unfamiliar constriction in her throat.
Elizabeth opened her eyes to find his eyes had turned nearly transparent and were rimmed with an icy blue. It was the color she knew well—it was the color of his eyes when he looked at her with desire. In such unguarded moments, Elizabeth actually believed he did love her. He held her gaze. “You, Mrs. Darcy, could never be found wanting.” He kissed her tenderly.
“Be careful, Mr. Darcy,” she said playfully. “Such
Darcy’s large palm held her chin, and his thumb touched Elizabeth’s lips—moving gently across them. “Ah, what a tempting minx you are; but we have guests to attend to. Mr. Bingley would wonder at my absence.”
“
“You may be right, my Love. Perhaps all the Bennet sisters have such powers.” Elizabeth swatted his chest, and Darcy chuckled as he stepped away from her.“I will send Sally to help you dress.Wear one of your new gowns.”
“The emerald-colored one?”
“Yes, my darling. No one who beholds you this evening will forget your beauty. I will be considered to be most astute for having carried away the brightest jewel of the country.” He kissed the tip of her upturned nose and was gone.
Elizabeth leaned her back against the door and smiled. Somehow, they would survive the evil of George
