Chapter 10 Dramatic Interruption #3
Darcy flicked his eyes up for a split second, perhaps asking for permission or showing her that, while inflamed with desire, he was in control.
Whichever the impetus for diverting his attention from the rapt focus upon her breast, Lizzy had no time to respond before he had returned to his provocative scrutiny.
In truth, if given several minutes, she would not have been able to formulate a coherent thought.
Undoubtedly, her glassy eyes and parted lips were all the reply he needed anyway.
Undeterred by the fabric layers, he nudged them past her shoulder and traced a slow path along the ribbon-edged bodice downward.
The wood sofa corner digging into her back and the air cooly wafting over her bared shoulder registered hazily upon Lizzy’s mind.
There were far too many pleasant sensations rushing through her body to bother over such trifles.
For instance, she was acutely aware that the fabric covering her left breast now perching dangerously close to her pebble-hard nipple.
She was even more aware of William’s fingertips steadily approaching the sensitive, virginal flesh.
Torn between closing her eyes and enjoying the unique thrills of pleasure, she kept them half-open to enhance the bliss with the visual.
The sight of his strong hand, tanned golden from the sun, brushing over the creamy skin of her chest was bizarrely erotic.
His long, elegantly shaped fingers stroked firmly, the mildly calloused pads intensifying the emotions.
Fire flooding her veins, Lizzy was amazed that her skin wasn’t red as a ripe cherry.
She focused all her energy on not squirming in desire, hands pressed harshly into the sofa seat for support.
What will he do next? The possible options flashing through her dazzled brain unprepared her for the reality.
Reaching the swell of her left breast, he hesitated for a moment, warring, she suspected, with the urge to push the fabric aside.
The merest prod of his thumb would free the rosy tip aching for his touch.
Instead, he drifted up and over, until poised at the shadowy crevice separating her bosom.
Dipping the end of his index finger halfway into the narrow gap, he then splayed his hand fully onto the soft pillow.
Simultaneously, he dropped his head and pressed his mouth to her bared, as-yet-untouched right breast.
Lizzy gasped. Succumbing to the escalating euphoria, eyes closed and head weakly flopped onto the sofa back. Her hands, which had at some point knotted into fists and dug into the cushion, uncurled and jerked upward to clutch his upper arms.
Darcy did not move. No increase in the pressure of his mouth.
No parting of the moist lips on her chest. No probing or squeezing with his right hand.
He simply maintained the contact for what seemed like hours but was only a minute or two.
Finally, after the faintest nuzzle of his face against her breast, he pulled away, shaky hands readjusting her bodice in the process.
Once satisfied she was reclothed to proper modesty levels, he sat up straight and met her eyes.
The expression he wore would forever be indelibly painted upon her mind, yet she would never be able to adequately put the look into words. Rapturous joy and transcendent love were as close as she could describe, although that wasn’t nearly accurate.
“I believe that shall tide me over for the week ahead and give me something sweet to dream about. I shall pray the same for you, my darling. So very soon we shall be able to enjoy each other to the fullest, without any reservations.”
Smiling, he clasped her hands and stood, bringing her with him.
Placing their hands upon his chest, he bent for a chaste kiss on her lips.
“I will be counting the days until I am again in your arms, Elizabeth,” he whispered against her mouth.
Withdrawing, he peered earnestly into her eyes.
“I am more bewitched by you than I was when I proposed. I love you, Elizabeth, with all my body, heart, and soul.”
“I love you, William—”
Her declaration was cut short by an abrupt, bone-crunching hug. “I will miss you terribly. Stay safe, my heart.”
Releasing her as abruptly as he’d embraced her, Darcy pivoted and lurched toward the door, tossing, “I will be back on Saturday,” over his shoulder. In a flash, he was gone.
* * *
Eventually, Lizzy regained her breath and composure.
Able to face the day in better spirits than initially anticipated, she was pleased Jane had followed through on Mary’s suggestion to visit with the Lucases.
Before they finished lunch, a return message from Lucas Lodge assured them they were welcome, and a wonderful afternoon respite was enjoyed by all—excepting Mrs. Bennet.
Pleading lethargy, overwrought nerves, and symptoms of an oncoming cold, she decided to stay at Longbourn.
When they returned late in the afternoon, she was lying on the couch with a flushed face and fanning herself vigorously.
However, no amount of peakedness or upset nerves prevented her insisting they repeat the conversations word for word.
“Jane dear, was Lady Lucas able to solve the problem with Mrs. Goulding’s lady’s maid?”
“I believe we shall have a positive outcome, Mama. Lady Lucas is amazingly skilled at such matters, I daresay. She spoke with Mrs. Goulding over tea twice this past week. By the end, Mrs. Goulding was praising her maid and weeping at the very idea of losing her but insisting she be given as a ‘gift’ for the new lady of Netherfield!” Jane laughed while shaking her head.
“I know not how she accomplished it, but I am to meet with the woman, a Miss Peyton, on Wednesday. I think I will ask Mrs. Nicholls to join me. She is new as Netherfield’s housekeeper but has years of experience and, Mr. Bingley informed me the other day, served as a lady’s maid herself.
Her insights will prove valuable. Better than mine, of that, there is no question. ”
Mary paused in her piano practice, a puzzled frown creasing her brow. “I never fathomed selecting a servant who laces up stays and fixes hair would be such an ordeal.”
“I thought the same, Mary. Much ado about nothing, if you ask me.”
Jane gently admonished, “You can say that, Kitty dear, because you leave your hair loose most of the time and, sweet Mary, you only dress your beautiful, black hair into a severe knot. Perhaps once Lizzy and I are gone, Betsy will be able to focus her skills on you two.”
Kitty had immediately lifted her hands to fluff the thick, tawny curls falling in a wave down her back and swayed her head side to side so that the tresses bounced prettily.
“I maintain it is a travesty to conceal and restrain these lush locks, which God gave me, may I remind. Besides, all the pulling and tugging, and those pins stuck into my scalp give me a headache.”
Mary’s expression transformed from baffled to prudish disapproval at Kitty’s words and antics, and then to borderline panic—probably from the vision of an ostentatious coiffure à la Betsy.
Fearing Kitty would next launch into another anti-corset tirade, they let the topic alone, opting instead to relive the hours at Lucas Lodge minute by minute while answering Mrs. Bennet’s questions.
What did they serve as refreshments? How were preparations for the autumn ball coming along? Did Lady Lucas have any town gossip to report? Not that Mrs. Bennet asked this directly, preferring the code phrase “news from the village of vital importance.”
Did Maria Lucas have any suitors calling?
This was asked because nothing would be worse than for Miss Lucas to become engaged to a gentleman of greater worth or prestige than Mr. Bingley or Mr. Darcy!
As unlikely as the possibility of this was for Maria Lucas especially, or anyone in the area for that matter, Mrs. Bennet conveyed her anxiety over such a horrific development at least twice a week.
Once relieved on that count, it was essential to verify that Lady Lucas had asked about the wedding plans, which the girls assured she had, at length.
Whether this was entirely accurate is debatable, but Mrs. Bennet was content.
“How was your visit with Charlotte, Lizzy?”
“Wonderful. We truly enjoyed our company, almost as if the past year had never happened. Of course, it helped not having Mr. Collins lurking in the background in hopes of overhearing something to report to Lady Catherine.”
“Really, Lizzy, do you think he does that?”
“I am sure of it, Mama. When I visited with Charlotte the last time, after we returned from London, I told her about the necklace Mr. Darcy gave me for the wedding. Why you should have seen how his eyes bugged! I thought he was far enough away not to hear our conversation, but he must have hearing like a dog.”
“Makes sense,” Kitty interrupted. “He is the old harpy’s pet dog, after all.”
“Kitty! For shame!” Mrs. Bennet exclaimed, waving her fan furiously. Kitty shrugged, unashamed.
“Well, be that as it may,” Lizzy resumed after winking at her younger sister, “Mr. Collins jumped out of his chair and scurried from the room. Charlotte whispered, and this is verbatim, ‘He has gone to write that down before he forgets. Lady Catherine will be furious!’ We shared a good laugh, I confess without a bit of remorse.”
“Poor Charlotte,” Jane said sorrowfully.
Mrs. Bennet’s fan snapped closed. “Why ‘poor Charlotte’? She has a house of her own and security. We all thought she was doomed to be an old maid! To be saved from that fate is a cause for rejoicing, not pity. My word!”