A Pemberley Medley (A Pride & Prejudice Variation) (24 page)

Elizabeth, with an impish look, folded back the sleeve of his coat. “We cannot have you staining the upholstery, either.”

“If it is stained, I will throw it away and buy a new one. I would buy an entire houseful of new furniture if it meant I could kiss you.”

His arms were warm around her, and there was something more intimate now that he was in his shirtsleeves. It was an embrace of the sort she had only pictured between husband and wife, and the notion sent a deep thrill through her. Tomorrow she would be his wife in truth and discover all the mysteries of the marriage bed. The ache deep within her intensified as she felt his kiss lightly brushing her cheek, then trailing a line of fire along her jaw until finally reaching her burning lips. A moan escaped her as his tongue teased her into deepening the kiss, plunging her into that sweet intimacy that had haunted her dreams since their encounter on the riverbank. Their tongues danced together, and she could feel his passion as he crushed her against him.

The fire was now running through every inch of her. Her breasts ached for his touch, and the rough cloth of her shift rubbing against her was not an adequate substitute. She needed more, oh, so much more. But as the sweet oblivion of desire washed over her, the sound of footsteps in the hall made them jump apart. Elizabeth could think of nothing beyond the urge to be back in his arms, and she knew she must look even more disheveled than when she had arrived. Fortunately, Darcy stepped in front of her just as two maids appeared in the doorway, each carrying a tray.

“Mr. Simms said you would want refreshments, sir,” the older one said.

“Refreshments?” Darcy looked as if he had never heard of such a concept before. “Ah, yes. Please set them up.”

It seemed to take forever for the maids to arrange the dishes on the side table. Elizabeth wondered if they guessed what their master had been doing, and if so, what they would think of her.

But once they had left, and Elizabeth found herself engulfed in his embrace, nothing else mattered. She leaned against his shoulder. She had never realized that a man’s arms could provide such comfort and solace, not to mention the myriad other sensations she felt. Then, to her surprise, he released her, keeping only her hand in his.

His eyes were dark with desire. “I can be trusted no further. Pardon me a moment.” Reluctantly he dropped her hand, then exited the room without a further word.

Darcy tried to still his breathing. He was not surprised to find Simms hovering in the drawing room. “Simms, Miss Bennet will be staying the night. I believe the blue room would suit admirably.”

Simms’ eyes widened. “The blue room, sir?”

“That is what I said.”

The butler bowed rigidly. “It will be prepared immediately.”

“One more thing, Simms. Miss Bennet should be treated with all the respect due to the future Mrs. Darcy.” It felt remarkably good to say.

The normally poker-faced Simms broke into a stunned smile. “Congratulations, sir.”

“I thank you.”

Darcy leaned a hand against the wall. He needed to think, something that was remarkably difficult when his entire being was demanding that he return to Elizabeth and lock the sitting room door behind him. Despite the overwhelming temptation, he would not dishonour her so. He stopped a footman and told him that Miss Darcy’s presence was requested in the sitting room. That would provide some restraint. He returned to the sitting room, forcing himself to leave the door wide open.

Elizabeth was loading a small plate with fruits and pastries. She gave him a half-guilty glance. “I hope you will forgive me that I did not wait for you. I have eaten nothing today, and I did not wish to celebrate our reunion by swooning with hunger.”

His eyes widened with horror. “Elizabeth! You should have said something immediately. Here, you must sit down and eat. I will bring you anything you like. Shall I ring for some cold meats? A glass of wine?” He placed a hand under her elbow and led her to the sofa as if she might have somehow have forgotten how to get there. How could he have been thinking only of his desire for her and not of her comfort?

“This will do quite nicely.” Elizabeth took a bite of cherry pastry as he sat beside her protectively, far closer than propriety would dictate. “It is delicious.”

Another surge of desire went through him as her tongue captured a crumb that remained on her upper lip. He chastised himself silently, noticing for the first time her pallor and that her hand trembled slightly as she set her fork into a strawberry. He would never allow her to suffer so again, not now that she was under his protection.

Darcy felt he had come off fairly well, all things considered. Georgiana seemed pleased to be introduced to Elizabeth, at least after she recovered from the shock of finding him in his shirtsleeves with an arm around an unknown young lady. He had expected the news of their wedding the following day to provoke even greater surprise and perhaps some embarrassing questions, but instead Georgiana seemed nothing more than delighted to have a new sister so very quickly.

His housekeeper managed to find a dress of Georgiana’s that fit Elizabeth presentably, and Georgiana’s maid had restored Elizabeth’s appearance to something more closely resembling its usual state. Not that Darcy cared for himself; he found Elizabeth beautiful no matter her circumstances, and her earlier dishevelment had only made her seem even more desirable.

He managed to keep his hands to himself for the remainder of the day, or at least mostly so. He had not been able to resist the exquisite temptation of taking Elizabeth’s hand while Georgiana played the pianoforte for them after dinner, tracing circles in her palm with his fingers as her cheeks grew becomingly flushed and he grew ever more aroused.

If it were not for his sister’s presence, it would have been a difficult, if not impossible, feat to resist kissing Elizabeth at every available opportunity. The swift shift from his earlier hopelessness to his present happiness was intoxicating. He refused to think about the wedding night tomorrow, lest his remaining self-possession be endangered.

In his efforts to avoid thinking of Elizabeth and bedrooms, however, he had neglected to plan ahead to the moment when they would retire for the night. Georgiana seemed to be the first to recognize the awkwardness, but as the hostess, she could not retire first. It would be rude for Darcy to allow Elizabeth to walk to her room alone, especially as it was by his own.

Elizabeth allowed Darcy to lead her through a private sitting room to a large bedroom decorated in shades of blue. A maid stood in the corner, clearly awaiting her. She explored the room briefly, hardly able to believe that she would be staying in such elegance. Running her finger along the intricately carved edge of the vanity, she smiled at Darcy.

“I hope you will be comfortable here,” he said, standing stiffly just outside the door.

“How could I be anything else? It is truly lovely.”

“Blue was my mother’s favorite colour, but of course you may prefer to redecorate it.” He seemed somehow larger in this setting.

Elizabeth started. She had assumed it was a guest room. Her mouth grew dry at the thought that tomorrow night he would be coming to her there, and her breasts ached for his touch. Her instinct was to run into his arms, but she knew she could not obey it. “It reminds me of the sky on a summer’s day.” Or perhaps it was the heat burning inside her that made her think of summer. How was she to say goodnight to him?

“My room is on the other side.” He pointed to another door off the sitting room. “If you find yourself in need of anything, just ring and one of the servants will come.”

She walked closer to him and took his hand. “You are very kind.”

He drew her aside a step, out of the view of the maid. “Elizabeth, once your maid leaves, I want you to lock the door.”

She touched his lips with one finger that trembled slightly. “I have no concerns.”

He drew in a sharp breath. “Have I not told you that you tempt me quite beyond reason? There is only so much a man can bear, no matter how good his intentions.”

She stood on tiptoe and brushed her lips against his lingeringly. “I will bid you good night, then.”

“Damn the servants,” he muttered. He pulled her into his arms, kissing her with such thoroughness that Elizabeth felt her knees grow weak. His tongue danced with hers, sending a shock of desire straight to her most secret places. The kiss lasted only a minute, though it could have been an hour and it would still not have been long enough.

Darcy, breathing heavily, took several steps back. If he did not let her go this instant, he would drag her into his bedroom and make her his in every way. The image of Elizabeth in his bed, every inch of her displayed for his view, her face drugged with desire, her hair spread across the pillow was almost his undoing. He clenched his hands into fists and made a proper bow to her.

He could hardly bear it as the door closed behind her. Such a permeable barrier, just a door, but it must stand. He should be grateful that Elizabeth was here and would be his tomorrow. His loins ached painfully with need.

He gritted his teeth as he turned to his room. He allowed his valet to assist him in removing his frock coat and boots, but then dismissed him. His condition was all too apparent in his tight breeches without exposing himself further. He threw himself into his favorite chair and stared into the fire, trying to force himself to think of anything but Elizabeth only a room away, in the room that he had always dreamed would be hers.

Then he laughed suddenly. His sufferings now, such as they were, were nothing to what he had felt only a few hours earlier, believing that Elizabeth had run off with another man, and he would never see her again. To have had his hopes raised in Hertfordshire, only to have them demolished, leaving him worse off than before. Now Elizabeth was his, and she would be his wife in a matter of hours. Elizabeth, his sweetest, loveliest Elizabeth. And all he needed to do was to make it through a night of frustrated desire!

He had to admit it was
very
frustrated desire. Having had his dreams of Elizabeth snatched away so many times before, part of him could not believe that it would not happen again. But he would not let himself think that way. Instead, he remembered how she had kissed him.

He poured himself a generous glass of brandy and took up the book he had been reading, but then he set it down unread. He could not have taken in a word it said. Instead, he leaned back and sipped his brandy, staring into the fire and thinking of Elizabeth.

He must have drifted off to sleep. He was having the most marvelous dream. Elizabeth, clad in nothing more than a nightgown that did nothing to disguise her form, her curls tumbling in loose glory over her shoulders, leaned over him, her hand on his wrist. He breathed deeply of her fragrance of lavender and womanhood as it drifted past him. Odd, he did not recall dreaming of scents in the past.

Suddenly he was awake. It was no dream. It was the real Elizabeth, more lovely and desirable than ever. Automatically he averted his eyes from her, then a moment later they swerved back. If heaven was going to send him an opportunity to enjoy the sight Elizabeth in a flimsy shift, he was going to appreciate every second of it.

“Is anything amiss?” he managed to say.

“Only that I missed you, and you fell asleep in your chair. And
you
did not lock
your
door.”

“You should not be here.”

“So everyone would say. But this last fortnight has been dreadful for me, not knowing what had happened to you or why you had not come after me, and wondering if you had a change of heart. Now that I am finally here, I find I cannot bear to be parted from you.”