Mr. Darcy's Refuge (43 page)

His brother-in-law did not miss the lack of a denial of his accusation. “As I said, you are an old fraud. Come, let us go to my study. I purchased some fine port for the occasion.”

“As long as it is not barley broth, I will drink anything! I hope to never see another drop of that in my life.”

Mr. Gardiner clapped him on the shoulder. “Well, then, if you are
very
good, perhaps you can even have some solid food, since you have made such a miraculous recovery. And this way we will not have to watch the
new
set of lovebirds bill and coo.”

***

Darcy could hardly believe it. Mr. Bennet had looked so hale that Darcy had steeled himself for the possibility that he would change his mind and refuse to allow the wedding to proceed. But Mr. Bennet had not rescinded his permission at the last minute, and Elizabeth was now his wife. He had not breathed easily until the vows were said, and then the entire world seemed a much finer place to him.

Now she was sitting beside him in the curricle. Hoping to be able to kiss his new bride, Darcy had planned to use a closed carriage to give them privacy, but the morning had dawned unusually hot and humid, and a closed carriage would have been oppressively close. Nothing, though, could keep him from touching her hand or tracing a finger down the exposed skin of her arm, and it aroused him mightily when she shivered despite the sun burning down on them.

A little conversation might be the only thing to keep him sane on the journey to Darcy House. “Your father looked well this morning.”

“I noticed that as well, although I admit to having a few distractions.” Elizabeth gave him an arch smile.

“Do you know how long he plans to stay in London?”

“He has not said, but I assume he plans to remain until after Lydia’s wedding next week.”

Darcy was even feeling beneficent toward Lydia Bennet today. Through all the trouble she had created, she was ultimately responsible for Mr. Bennet’s change of heart, and that had saved Darcy four long months of separation from Elizabeth. Yes, while he detested the connection to Wickham, right now he could not even muster annoyance with Lydia.

“Will we still be able to stay at Netherfield for a time, do you think?”

The same question had crossed his mind several times since hearing his cousin’s news. “It might be best not to depend upon it. Bingley was unhappy with me already, and having had his hopes raised only to be dashed will not help.”

“Surely he cannot blame you for failing to know Jane’s true sentiments!”

“That he would likely forgive, but the conclusion he drew from our engagement was a different one. He believes that I discouraged him from marrying Jane because I did not think him good enough to marry my future sister.”

“But that is ridiculous! You had not even thought of offering for me at that point.”

“Oh, I had
thought
of it far too often; I was just able to convince myself that I would be able to forget you after I left Netherfield. By the time I saw you at Rosings, I knew the fallacy of that. I could not forget you no matter how hard I tried. Still, while Bingley’s suppositions are far from the truth, I cannot prove that to him, and the fact that my cousin swooped in and engaged Jane’s affections just when Bingley decided to return may confirm his suspicions.” In a few days, Bingley’s defection would no doubt be painful, but he would not let it ruin today. “I made a very serious mistake, and Bingley is paying for it.”

“
You
made a very serious mistake? I may disagree with the advice you gave him, but it was just that: advice. Bingley is the one who made the mistake, not you.”

“I knew he would follow my advice. Bingley is most unaffectedly modest. His diffidence prevented his depending on his own judgment, but his reliance on mine made everything easy.”

“Yes, and your propensity is to take responsibility for everything, no matter whether it is in your purview or not. Your aunt’s tenants, Jenny, Wickham, Bingley – as soon as someone crosses your path, they become your responsibility, and if anything happens to them, it is your fault. Pardon me, but Mr. Bingley is a grown man, and it was his choice to follow your advice and not his own heart.”

“Are we having an argument not two hours after our wedding?” he asked mildly.

Elizabeth laughed. “If we are, I predict it is one we will have on a regular basis. I admire your sense of responsibility, but sometimes you do carry it to an extreme. You will have to accustom yourself to being teased about it. From time to time it is acceptable to do what you wish rather than what you think you ought to do.”

“You are not the first person to say that, I admit. Very well, I will strive to do better.” And very soon indeed, he thought smugly.

He reined in the horses in front of Darcy House. “Welcome home, my love.”

Elizabeth tilted her head backward to examine the townhouse façade as Darcy handed her out of the curricle. The front door was already opening; his butler had clearly been watching for them in hopes of impressing the new mistress. Darcy ignored him, however. Instead, when they reached the doorway, he said in Elizabeth’s ear, “The
responsible
thing for me to do now would be to take you on a tour of the house, introduce you to the staff, and allow them to serve us the elegant dinner they have no doubt been working hard to produce. But since you wish me to practice less responsibility, I am forced instead to do what I
wish
.”

He swept her up in his arms and carried her across the threshold, but did not stop there. Over his shoulder, he said to the startled butler, “This is Mrs. Darcy. We do
not
wish to be disturbed.”

“Of course, sir,” the butler murmured.

Darcy was already carrying the laughing Elizabeth up the grand staircase and directly through his anteroom into his bedroom. He kicked the door closed behind them, then deposited his bride directly on the bed.

“You do not waste time, sir!” Elizabeth teased, but he could sense a hint of nervousness behind it.˝

“I am following your instructions, my dear,” he said with mock austerity. “And right now what I wish to do is to show you what I would have done that day in the hollow at Pemberley had I trusted my self-control more. I have given this matter
substantial
thought.” In fact, he had played it out in his mind more times than he could count.

Elizabeth raised a dubious eyebrow. “And you trust your self-control more now?”

He lost no time in joining her on the bed, raising himself on one elbow as he trailed his finger lightly from her chin to the base of her neck, and then lower until it was poised just above the neckline of her dress. “Yes.” He plunged his finger between the delicious softness of her breasts, eliciting a gasp from her, then continued in a softer, more intimate tone. “Self-control will be much easier since this time I know I will not have to stop. Now, if you will be so kind as to cast your mind back to that day….”

“Very well, but your bed is much softer than the ground, and there is not a stick poking into my back.”

He stopped her teasing mouth with a probing kiss as he removed his finger, but only in order to curve his hand around the temptation of her breast. “Perhaps you remember this part,” he said conversationally as he allowed his lips to drift to her throat, planting light, tantalizing kisses along the sensitive skin until Elizabeth’s breath was ragged and she tipped her head back, exposing more of herself to his explorations and mutely inviting him to turn his attentions lower.

God, he had dreamed of this so often since that day, of tasting the slight salt tang of the top of her breasts as his nostrils filled with the scent of rosewater and Elizabeth. Intoxicated by her nearness, he skimmed his thumb over the tip of her breast, feeling it tighten and grow hard. Her moan was all the invitation he needed to take advantage of her response, his fingers now toying with her nipple through the smooth silk of her dress, squeezing and rolling it until her body began to move involuntarily.

Seeing her response was not enough. He needed to feel her beneath him. Trapping her legs with his, he moved over her, brushing against her sensitized breasts, feeling the shock of it even through all the layers of clothing that separated them. Her hips rocked up to meet him. The motion against his hardness made him long to stop this slow seduction and take her right then and there, but he wanted to give her more than that.

And Elizabeth wanted more. No, she needed more, was desperate for more. Then she was kissing him as desperately as he was kissing her, his hands exploring her body, touching her in ways no man had ever touched her before, setting her every nerve afire. Her hands clutched him to her, digging into the firm muscles of his back as he nudged her legs apart with his knee, then took his place between them. She knew full well that her skirts and his breeches stood between them, but still she was overwhelmed by an odd mixture of intimate vulnerability and anticipation. Then his hardness rocked against her, rhythmically rubbing against her most private places, each movement sending through her a shock of pleasure so pure that it made her writhe against him. Instinctively she raised her knees to open herself more fully to him and the intoxicating sensations he was creating in her. It built and built until she felt as if there was nothing left of her but a well of exquisite need.

The intimacy of the moment was so great that it was almost a shock to look into his eyes, bare inches from hers. Her chest heaved as if she had been running a race. She tried to calm herself and let the storm inside her ebb, but then it intensified as Darcy laid his hand against the naked skin of her thigh. With a shuddering breath, she discovered that her skirts had pooled above her knees, exposing much of her legs to his view. What was more shocking was that she did not care. In fact, the heat in his eyes as he inspected them kindled a new fire inside her.

Without removing his hand, he settled himself beside her, lightly caressing her thigh. Then he spoke, in a voice no longer steady. “Had my self-control not begun to fail me, and had my conscience allowed it, this was where I would have asked to be allowed to satisfy you.”

She laughed shakily. “You would have seduced me after all, then?”

His slow smile seemed to hold an enticing wickedness. “No, not that, just to give you pleasure. It will not violate you; you will still be a virgin, at least for the moment, if not precisely… untouched. And it would have helped you… ease the tension.” His fingers traced burning circles on the sensitive skin of her inner thigh. “That is what I plan to do now.”

Awash in need, Elizabeth could not think of anything that might ease her tension short of being struck in the head by a brick, and certainly did not see how more of this temptation could possibly improve matters.

The corners of his lips turned up, then he covered her mouth with a passionate kiss. But how could she focus on his kiss when his fingers were trailing up her inner thigh and then – oh, goodness – directly over her private parts. She was sure that she ought to want him to stop, but her body did not seem to agree, instead straining those same parts against his hand as if begging for more. She made the astonishing discovery that mere pressure was a torture of a new sort, sending her need for his touch spiraling. How could this possibly
relax
her, of all things?

He seemed to sense her need, his nimble fingers continuing their journey of discovery until finding a spot where his caresses elicited blinding waves of pleasure. Unable to help herself, she moaned, and Darcy ceased his kiss just long enough to whisper, “Oh, yes, Elizabeth, yes.”